This isn’t one of those giant holiday parks with a water flume and a DJ playing until 2am. No, Englethwaite Hall is the calm friend who suggests a board game night instead of a rave. It’s surprisingly peaceful, with a lovely mix of open space and wooded edges that make you feel like you’re in a proper countryside hideout. You can hear the birds more than you hear your neighbour’s generator, which is a modern miracle in itself.
The facilities block is so clean you could almost eat your breakfast off the floor, though I wouldn’t recommend it. There’s a proper dishwashing area where you can have a chat with a stranger about the best way to remove baked beans from a camping stove. It’s these tiny, mundane connections—like the bloke who told me his secret to a perfectly brewed filter coffee—that make you feel part of a secret society of people who choose to sleep in a box on wheels.
The Dog Walking Chronicles
If you bring a dog, you’ve hit the jackpot. There’s a dedicated dog walk that’s basically a canine version of a spa day. My own mutt, a chaos agent disguised as a terrier, went absolutely bonkers for the scents of badgers and rabbits. I spent a good hour just watching him sniff a single patch of grass with the concentration of a philosopher. You can walk directly into the adjacent woodland, which feels like stepping into a fairy tale, albeit one where you’re constantly checking your pockets for poo bags.
Englethwaite Hall Club Campsite | The Caravan Club
One afternoon, I saw a woman trying to coax her stubborn Labrador back to the pitch. She was using a squeaky toy, a treat, and a voice that suggested she’d been doing this for 45 minutes. I nodded at her with a look that said, “I feel your pain, and I also have no advice.” That’s the vibe here: silent solidarity between frazzled pet owners.
