When you check into your accommodation at Retreat East, after you’ve laid down your bags, and uttered the obligatory ‘wow’, you’ll notice a basket of goodies. Nestled in the welcome pack are locally-made crisps, soap and chocolate...alongside a letter with all you need to know about the site.

Most essentially, this letter invites you to pull up a pew, lay back, forget the outside world and...ahh...relax.

Believe me, conjuring inner bliss isn’t hard when you’re lucky enough to find yourself at a location as lovely as this.

Minutes from the A14, and a short drive or taxi ride from Ipswich, Needham Market or Stowmarket, it’s easy to miss Retreat East’s enigmatic wooden sign. I drove past about three times on my first visit. I can say though, once you DO find it, you won’t want to leave.

The clutch of painstakingly renovated farm buildings and newly created lodges feel a million miles from anywhere, sinking into a landscape of fields, woodlands and kitchen gardens – your only neighbours being other guests, ponies and the odd rogue chicken.

Arriving with my friend Rach, we soon got a handle on the clientele of this place. Lovers zipped about on the site’s provided bikes. Gaggles of ladies donning robes and slippers shuffled between the restaurant and spa area. And there were a few mixed groups about to embark on one of the many walks from the site with their pooches (mostly the de rigour sausage dog). Retreat East is very dog-friendly. Four-legged friends are welcome in accommodation and the Great Barn restaurant, there are treats in reception...there’s even, for goodness sake, a dog shower!

Check in (because we’d already done it online) was as simple as picking up our keys. And on to The Granary.

Owner Dominic personally furnished each of the properties, we’re told, and he clearly has a keen eye. The attention to detail and sheer quality of every element of The Granary is wonderful. There’s a sense everything has been restored with genuine love and care – from the original brick floor, to treatment of the former dairy’s beams. Even the door latches are beautiful.

A long, single-level space, The Granary boasts three sets of double doors, one leading from each room to a lengthy terrace offering private, uninterrupted views.

Inside, the nosy interior design lovers that we are, Rach and I were soon Googling the bits and pieces we adored about the place. The Grind coffee machine in the kitchen, with its compostable pods. The pendant light over the dining room table. A rustic metal drinks tray in the living area, with its large telly, slouchy sofas draped in blankets and puffy cushions, and chunky lamps.

Everything you need is here. Readers will know I’m a keen cook – so inspecting the kitchen was a first port of call. It’s equipped with everything you might need to rustle up a meal (not just the odd token frying pan and wooden spoon).

Rach (more of a domestic goddess than me) found an iron and ironing board, and (essential for her) hairdryer in the bedroom, where robes and slippers hung in a full-size wardrobe, and where a king size bed had been smothered in cushions.

There are two shower rooms, and a separate WC, all designed to the highest spec. Our only gripe was the lack of USB points. I’m notorious for forgetting the charging plug for my phone. Mind you...being cut off from the outside world for a bit isn’t the worst thing in the world.

In the week or so before our trip we were invited to book sessions in the spa during our stay. Guests can pick a slot for the hot tub, and another for the spa suite for each day of their break.

It’s like having your very own personal spa. And we revelled in having the place to ourselves. No worrying about cellulite (mine) and tummy rolls (again, mine) as we navigated the spearmint-scented steam room, sauna and rainforest showers. I recommend booking a night time slot for the hot tub. We managed to bagsy 9-10pm on a clear night, spending the hour wrapped in balmy 30C-plus water, stargazing.

Dinner on both nights was an early affair. It seems word is spreading about new executive head chef Adam Spicer’s food, because although the Great Barn was eerily quiet when we first sat down, it was soon buzzing but, critically, not too full. One of the young waiting staff told us she loves working there as they don’t overbook, meaning they can give the level of service they want to.

I’m going to be upfront here. I loved the food. I thought it was stunning. Easily three AA Rosette standard. So good we abandoned our plans for our second night, and returned to the barn where candles and lamplight are used to transform the capacious space into something really rather intimate and cosy.

On our first foray we got stuck into the tasting menu (£69pp) and wine flight (£30) enthusiastically explained to us by front of house manager Tom, who clearly knows his stuff, and is keen on showcasing English and lesser-known bottles.

Bouncy homemade treacle and rye bread with miso butter (so good) came with a quintet of snacks, based around prime British meat and fish, and vegetables grown on site.

A crisp, delicate gougere brimmed with whipped cod’s roe. Fresh peas, pea puree and trufle shavings tumbled from a paper-thin tartlet case. Pickled kohlrabi was turned into a ‘taco’ of sunflower seed ricotta and pickled chilli. The charred edges of an octopus and pork skewer gleamed with burnished hoi sin. And perched on a cushion of dainty, tiny shells, was a single oyster, dressed in house floral elderflower vinegar and frozen strawberry shavings.

Other highlights included spanking fresh sea bass over a warm tartare spiked with dill oil and keta caviar, crowned with a golden fried oyster and seaweed dust; a bowl of mooli ‘noodles’ in laksa broth with barbecued carrot; pink breast of Creedy Carver duck with a confit duck and offal spring roll, spiky cherry hot sauce, sesame carrot and glossy duck sauce; and a wedge of expertly-made Tosier chocolate tart, shimmering by candlelight, and cut through with a sea buckthorn sorbet.

The meal was completed with a box of handmade petite fours – the sour cherry pate de fruits being spectacularly good.

Each wine pairing was spot on. A couple of bottles I have to recommend are Blackbook Winery’s Seyval Blanc, and the Simpson Estate’s Rabbit Hole Pinot Noir – both shining examples of where English wine is heading (and that’s in the right direction).

The Seyval Blanc is a cloudy sparkler, bright with waxy, candied lemon and hints of elderflower. While the Pinot Noir shows off just what we can achieve with reds in this country, being a touch smoky, with an essence of violet and understated jammy notes.

A meal that was practically perfect in every way. Made even more so by the dulcet tones of a session singer, who appeared on both nights with his guitar.

After dinner you can chill on one of the barn’s sofas with a cocktail, or challenge one another to a game of billiards in the bar.

We slinked back to The Granary, a bit giggly from the wine, and a lot full from dinner, and spent the ultimate rock and roll night reading books under a blanket with 8 out of 10 Cats Does Countdown on the telly.

Sleep came easily, thanks our bedroom’s heavy drapes, and we didn’t have to shift for a long time in the morning as breakfast is offered until the luxuriously late time of 11am. What a treat!

In daytime sunlight bursts through the Great Barn, where a long central table is laid out with freshly baked pastries, bread for toast, Tiptree preserves, fresh fruit, banana bread muffins, yoghurt and cereal – all included.

Hot dishes cost between £8 and £13, and include one of the nicest full English plates I’ve had in a long time. One where every element had been carefully thought about. We're talking thick, hand-cut treacle cured bacon, sausage, eggs as you like them, homemade black pudding (a touch more heat required for me), buttery mushrooms, house beans, sourdough, cherry tomatoes, and a slice of golden potato terrine. Just yum.

Seeking to burn off the million calories we’d consumed in the restaurant, we picked up a walk leaflet from reception, where staff are ready to point out routes depending on what you fancy – be it a long dog stroll, quick shake of the legs, or flat ground for cycling. One of the most bizarre interviews I’ve ever conducted was at nearby Shrubland Hall, so I couldn’t resist a bound along the marked footpaths here, where you can just about get a peek of the once-famous spa/hotel, ensconced in mature parkland and trees.

The circular walk (about 30-45 minutes) crosses back through fields and copses to Retreat East, and teems with wildlife. We were surrounded by damselflies, and deer gambolled through cut hay along a stretch of the route.

Packing up on Sunday, we left feeling nourished, nurtured and very very well fed. There are places to go nearby, from Helmingham Hall to Needham Lake, but honestly, once you’re in, you won’t want to leave...and you definitely won’t forget where to find it.

Book your stay

Accommodation at Retreat East (in Hemingstone) starts at around £300 per night including a continental breakfast. The restaurant is open to non-residents for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and the spa also welcomes day visitors.

Find out more at retreateast.co.uk