I love a boutique hotel. The individual touches, the distinctive temperament that reveals itself whilst the eye lazily wanders… But my god, does that term get bandied about with loose regard.

I crave character (but much more than overt saccharine or, at the other end of the scale, forced edginess created just for a shot on Instagram), whimsy, and an ingrained atmosphere that narrates the building's story. I desire thoughtful details; the things even I didn’t know I needed to relax. I long for decor that inspires on my eventual return home (my perfectly curated sanctuary), the need to completely redecorate.

Living in a city that is fiercely independent and champions intimate glimmers in hospitality, I do feel spoiled for choice, and alongside regular travel, I know my expectations are high. When they are exceeded, it’s a thrilling feeling: A recent stay at The Falstaff in Canterbury, whilst specifically in town on a solo trip to visit the flagship store of English viticulture skincare brand, Pelegrims, more than affably delivered.

Stepping through the modern glass doors of a 15th-century coaching inn, just shy of Canterbury's Westgate, a slick, contemporary reception leads into a low-lit bar, clad in deep-toned wood with copper accents. A facing flint wall creates the spine of the building, leading the eye to a courtyard beyond.

Originally named the White Hart, The Falstaff gained its present namesake in the 17th century, from Shakespeare’s lovable rogue character, Sir John Falstaff. Expansion over time has meant it has spilt across the adjacent buildings, taking on a disused wood mill and neighbouring public house, to create a charming, sprawling hotel with 46 elegant rooms and plentiful unique spaces to enjoy alongside.

Making my way to my quarters, the building begins to slowly relinquish its history, as I pass through the lounge, where one might take afternoon tea, and exposed beams cradle a perfectly off-kilter ceiling, to climb a wide, original staircase enclosed by towering wood panelling. As I make my way along a winding hallway, posters of Shakespearean adaptations across the years grace the walls, betwixt kitsch artworks and floral displays.

Staying in one of their junior suites grants me a roll-top bath and a superking bed (others have romantic four-posters). Immaculate contemporary lighting meets endearing historical leaded windows to one side and a large oriel window to the other, as pouring afternoon light is softened by heavy voiles. Each room has its own scheme; here, a bold floral-print fabric crafts the headboard and scatter cushions, complementing the overall soft, demure tones throughout the walls (vice versa in other rooms); a meet-cute of classic and contemporary to create a restful yet invigorating space. Optional extras include Willie's Cacao chocolates or chilled champagne in the room on arrival.

A visit to Pelegrims is the focus of my trip to enjoy one of their vinotherapy rituals, a bespoke treatment crafted both for rejuvenation and respite, at their homestead in a listed building on St Margaret Street. I wander the town, discovering the craft micro-restaurant Mr Coffee, a real gem for decadent cakes and exceptional coffee; past Roman walls, Gothic structures and medieval timber-frame stepped buildings, alongside narrow waterways.

As a UNESCO World Heritage Site hotspot, Canterbury bears evidence of many junctures in the history of Christianity in Britain. Besides the Gothic Cathedral, the city is also home to St Martin's Church and St Augustine's Abbey, the oldest church and abbey in the Anglosphere.

Passing Canterbury Cathedral around 5 pm is highly recommended, offering the chance to hear the warm-up for Choral Evensong at 5:30 pm, which is open to the public if you choose. The illumination of its Gothic form at night is incredibly impressive, too, if one doesn’t visit from 10 am to 5 pm.

Overall, the city's best eateries take a lingering French theme. Cafe St. Pierre is a must-visit for their pastries and stacked sandwiches. Whilst the new restaurant and wine bar Franc is a hot tip from the locals, their prix-fixe, weekly-rotating menu is a lunchtime-only affair of classical French cuisine using the finest local produce, with dishes such as oysters with mignonette or pork rillettes.

Returning to The Falstaff at 6 pm means happy hour for all guests at the cocktail bar, with a complimentary cheese board to accompany an incredibly thoughtful addition, seeing as the hotel doesn’t have an evening restaurant. Their seasonal cocktail menu and curated wines welcome you to the snug, where low ceilings invite private moments of conversation or contemplation for the single traveller, before heading out for dinner; the hotel partners with the nearby waterside restaurant Cafe De Soleil for overnight guests.

As I make my way back to my room for the night, I have quite specific wants from any stay. More specifically, I want to draw a deep bath or take a searing-hot, unfathomably steamy shower with products even more alluring than those I have thoughtfully packed (a full complement of Verdens products and a waffle robe await), with a nightcap from the porter menu. I wish to clamber up into a bed made of tightly tucked crisp white cotton and the most delicate feathers (check), levitate on a stout mattress fit for royalty, and to melt into the pillows like butter on hot toast (check, and check).

After an incredible slumber, I take a cafetiere of fresh coffee in my room (a rare find and glorious addition to any stay) before their breakfast room lures me with fresh juices and cooked breakfasts of pancakes or eggs Benedict. I leave feeling completely refreshed, yet slightly devastated that after the perfect single-night, single-traveller-stay, I can’t linger with a mimosa and do the whole previous day all over again.

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