The first things my eyes are drawn to as I practically collapse into the lobby of Mollie's Motel aren’t the plump Mid-Century-style sofas and bum-hugging Conran armchairs. Nor the bar of free house-blend filter coffee and luxe brand tea. Or, for that matter, the top shelf spirits and menu of wicked-good sounding cocktails.
No. I am called by the sugar buffet. Having endured several days at another joint with no hot water (I woe is me, I had to wash my hair with a kettle in the sink), and with three hours stuck on the M5 under my belt, the glimmer of foil peeking from under bars of Tony’s Chocolonely, and glossy packets of Candy Kittens of the motel’s front desk ‘shop’ call to me.
Their appearance points to what the Mollie's brand (from the folk behind trendy Soho House) stands for. Fun. Quality. Simple pleasures.
I am by this point, frankly, in dire need of all three.
Perched just north of Bristol city centre off the Cribbs Causeway, Mollie's Bristol (and her sister destination in Oxfordshire) are surely the first of what could be many such hotels that change the way budget travel looks in the UK.
I’ve stayed in a few so-proclaimed motels over the years, lured by the ‘M’ word and all the kitschness encapsulated by it, drawn from a lifetime watching American movies.
But, until now, they’ve been meagre, ersatz impressionists, whose neon signage and dinky vintage details could barely make up for the back-breaking beds, flimsy curtains and mildew swiped shower cubicles.
Mollie's fills a gap in the market. She’s not as ‘shouty’ as the Premier Inns and Travelodges you’ll encounter roadside. In fact, beyond her glitzy red name tag, there’s little given away by her dark exterior.
But she’s sleeker, with a bit more swagger than her competitors – without delving into pretence.
Our room, 42, is at first appearances rather humble. A mish-mash on Scandi and Japanese super-minimalism. The toilet and shower space is concealed behind a pocket door. A vanity unit sits within the room itself (a joy for my teen daughter who can do her make-up without waiting for whoever to finish in the loo). Four beds are arranged as bunks, opposite a large TV. There are, joy, Candy Kittens perched on a bench.
It's not until you look closer that you notice the details. The yummy-scented Cowshed products beneath a powerful rainforest head shower. a Dyson hairdryer and GHD hair tongs inset beside the vanity unit. Yielding custom-designed Hypnos mattresses and soft bedding. The way the beds are lipped to block out beams from each one’s individual night lights. The fact there’s phone charging and a mini, bed-length shelf inside every bunk.
Tea and coffee are provided - the only concession being hot water is accessed via a machine in the corridor.
Scrubbed up, but still feeling bedraggled, we step outside to admire the Mollie's terraced garden, before limping over to her diner, where we’re greeted by bright smiles, Cadillac-style dining booths, and a flurry of activity from the open kitchen. My son is disproportionately amused by the fact our table’s got a built-in wireless phone charger. Handy.
Mollie's Diner’s menu pays homage to Americana, and doesn’t resort to the kind of silly prices you usually encounter roadside. A steak with trimmings, for example, comes in at under £17.
I forget to take their names, but every single person who serves us is wonderful. Full of warmth and utterly clued up on the menu.
We’re encouraged to try a few of the nibbles to get us started, and as we wait, get stuck into a pint of locally-made beer, a thick chocolate milkshake frothing with a cloud of sweet cream, a booze-free elderflower spritz, and a subtly boozy English Garden cocktail (one of my faves) swishing together gin, elderflower liqueur, apple juice and cucumber. It’s just what this mama needs.
We’ve barely made an imprint on the booth before our snacks arrive. And good they are too. Panko-crumbed bites of chicken with a smoky barbecue sauce. A moreish tower of tender wings doused in a beautifully balanced, on-the-right-side-of-hot homemade hot sauce. And dreamy mozzarella sticks, almost like leggy Spanish croquetas, with the molten, stringy cheese collapsing into a peppery bechamel.
Main courses are, again, swift, arriving in a flash despite the place being packed. I’m a sucker for chicken and waffles, and the diner’s version is a respectable one. The fried chicken is a tad on the dry side, but a drizzle of maple syrup soon sorts that out. And then there’s the smoke from the bacon.
My daughter declares her ribs, which actually are falling off the bone and over her fries, the best she’s ever had. And my husband, a self-proclaimed ‘burger expert’ is in raptures over his smashed patty, loaded with house sauce, cheese and salad. “It’s like a souped up Big Mac,” he tells me between bites as it oozes down his hands. In the middle of the table is plonked a cast iron dish of beef chilli fries which our server told us were a must. Bloody hell they’re good. I mean, I wasn’t going to have any, but my fork kept finding its way into the dish. The combination of gently spiced pulled beef chilli, melty cheese sauce and crunchy chips is so devilish it should be illegal.
We’ve scarcely got space for pud, but attempt a berry-filled cheesecake tiramisu, and a scrummy goblet of chocolate, caramel, cornflakes and cream.
Back at the bar/reception as the kids take advantage of the free Wifi and streaming Netflix from their phones to the telly in our room, we enjoy a bit of ‘grown-up time’...that is drinking (the Cobbler cocktail is awesome) while flicking through aspirational coffee table books strewn about the seating area.
Sleep comes easily and is only interrupted by the annoying tinkle of my work alarm. At night the room is silent (superb soundproofing even against the roar of the motorway), and the curtains block out almost every fraction of light.
After a stonking breakfast back at the diner, where they have eggs all ways, waffles and a very respectable full English (with homemade hash brown slices) as well as the option of unlimited filter coffee, we hit the road for back-to-school shopping en route to home.
The Mall Cribbs Causeway is moments away with lots of big stores. Also of note nearby is Aerospace Bristol, and The Wave outdoor surfing experience. Oh, and the park and ride is close by if you want to avoid the city’s congestion charges, due to come into force later in the autumn.
Even if you’re just using the break as a pitstop, it’s always worth a jaunt into Bristol itself too – especially if you’re a foodie. Wander the boutiques and upmarket eateries of Cliffton Village, and amble over the suspension bridge if you dare.
Or do as we did, and take a stroll along Gloucester Road and Stokes Croft, where you’ll discover over 100 indy stores – and even a Banksy (hardened fans will find several examples of the guerrilla artist’s work in his home town).
In the shopping quarter is the impressive Cabot Circus development. But my heart is drawn to Bristol’s harbour and wharf, and to St Nicholas Markets, where you can grab stonkingly good street food. Do not miss the pitta and falafel stall where, for £7.50 they’ll pile up a container with around 10 salads and pickles, falafel and your sauce of choice.
But my biggest, best must-do, possibly of the year, is Wake The Tiger. Cited as the world’s first ‘amazement park’, and designed by the creatives behind Boomtown festival, it has to be one of the most mesmerising experiences any of us has had – and it only cost £15 each (for over 13s), being a tenner for five to 12-year-olds and free for under-fives.
Lurking in an industrial estate warehouse, visitors are introduced to Meridia – a ‘premium’ apartment development, in an unassuming waiting room. Shout out to the eedjet who actually thought he was being sold an apartment and stopped proceedings at the beginning. You’d have thought the tongue-in-cheek toilet seat/fish tank/chopping board arrangement would give it away.
Anyway, once initiated, prospective tenants (you) are led to a door, behind which are magical, fantastical illusions, hidden rooms, enchanted forests, interactive elements and so so much more. Just when you think you’ve seen everything...bam, in comes another surprise. If you’re with teens, go around twice. Once for them to stimulate their Insta feed, and then again to examine the minutiae of what essentially one of the largest scale art installations on the planet. The details are astonishing. You really will feel like Alice in Wonderland.
And you know just the place to stay when you visit now, right?
Need to knows
Rooms at Mollie's start at £70 mollies.com
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