Is The Dirty Weekend Dead? How To Reclaim The Romantic Tryst In 2026

The trouble with living in a sexually-liberated society is that it does rather take the edge off clandestine liaisons. Will the non-binary millennials who preach the virtues of ‘consensual non-monogamy’ ever know the delectable vice of a dirty weekend? Are they too caught up with their smartphones and social media? Have we all become too obsessed with yoga and wellbeing post-Covid to properly indulge in bunking off with our best beloved for two nights of champagne and erotic self-indulgence? I’ve also found my Gen X friends can be so indulgent towards grown children that they sweep them away on every break, rather than prioritising their own intimacy.

Of course, in the strictest traditions of the dirty weekend, your beloved would be married to someone else and you’d simply be borrowing them for two days of horizontal frolics. The wanton tradition traces its origins to the late 18th-century excursions made to Brighton by the then Prince Regent (George IV to be) with his mistress Maria Fitzherbert. The seaside town has kept its crown as the naughty liaison capital of Britain ever since, with excellent rail links making it a dream destination for London adulterers. By common assent, the Pelirocco Hotel on Regency Square acts like catnip for bohemians, while less showy lovers favour the seafront Grand.

For true wilds, it’s hard to beat Galway’s Ballynahinch Castle Hotel.

But I like to think you can enjoy an away-day tryst with your spouse, so long as you switch your mindset to pure hedonism. One long-wed couple I know share a pact to escape to a different seaside hotel twice a year but employ strict rules to shed their everyday personas. They book a double room in just one of their names and travel separately, before ‘accidentally’ colliding in the hotel bar. The duo then indulge in outrageous flirtation before retreating upstairs. The jaunt is judged a big success if everyone in their vicinity believes them to be strangers.

My own notion of what elements make for the perfect sexy escape were set in aspic, decades ago, when I had a fling one winter with a dashing author, who juggled a clutch of romantic situations. He booked us a room with a bath at the 15th-century Mermaid Inn in Rye, which had a roaring fire in the bar and gorgeous beaches nearby. To this day, my idea of a perfect weekend involves freezing my mitts walking along wind-blasted sea before returning to drink Highland Park by an open fire, then retreating upstairs to get amorous in a bathtub.

The ideal scenario also means not running into anyone you know. In the early days of my courtship with my husband we bunked-off work on a Friday and went to the Swan Hotel at Southwold, only to find it filled with London media types. I even saw a friend’s ex, who was something of a conman, with a rich older woman who was picking up the tab. His cynicism cast a pall on our romanticism. The worst location for a dirty weekend IMHO is the country branch of a social members club, where you’ll be clocked by hundreds. Far better to take yourself off to true wilds. It’s hard to beat Galway’s Ballynahinch Castle Hotel, where passion is fuelled by a breakfast dripping in saturated animal fats. I can’t prove it, but I’ve long suspected vegans have less zest for friskiness than red meat-eaters.

At Edinburgh’s The Witchery, a sense of theatre brings out the exhibitionist in even the shyest lovers. (© David Cheskin)

When I canvassed naughty friends for top recommendations, one 50-something practiced rake said that people underestimate central London for hanky-panky: ‘No pressure to explore the museums, just explore each other while admiring the view from the 14th floor of the Hilton on Park Lane, a bargain at weekends.’ The most savvily-saucy escape artist I know, Amanda Zuydervelt, who founded the website Stylebible, also had firm opinions on the topic. She cited the Georgian luxe of Batty Langley’s in Shoreditch and similarly decadent The Witchery by the castle in Edinburgh: ‘with its seductive four-posters, velvet and candlelight’. We both agreed a sense of theatre brings out the exhibitionist in even the shyest lovers.

Do you need further encouragement? Escape your cares and book a gorgeous hotel room – cast of two – for a very private performance.

Rowan Pelling is a British journalist and broadcaster.

This feature appears in the 2026/27 Great British & Irish Hotel Guide.