We’re not judging. There’s not a damn thing wrong with that. There are hotels where it’s all about dressing up and showing out and having sparkling conversation and stiff drinks (or stiff conversations and sparkling drinks) in the lobby.
Again, we’re not judging (see above). And then there are hotels where there’s so much stuff to do you almost need a secretary to run your stay.
Birch is such a thing. Located so ‘just’ out of London you can actually take the Overground and then jump a five-minute Uber, Birch has taken over an historic mansion in the country (well, it seems like the country when you’re there) and made it a playground for the young, the not-so-young and anyone that has any young part of their brain left.