Art Deco Under The Sun: Vintage Decadence At Burgh Island Hotel

Perched on a tiny island off the coast of South Devon and cut off from the mainland at high tide, the Burgh Island Hotel is more than a gem of Art Deco architecture; it's a symbol of the sumptuous inter-war life enjoyed by such names as Wallis Simpson, Noël Coward and Agatha Christie, who would base two of her famous murder mysteries on the island after staying at the luxury hotel.

Under its first guise, the hotel was little more than a wooden hut built in the image of a Swiss chalet at the turn of the century by a music hall star of questionable taste (George H Chirgwin's most famed act was that of a blacked-up minstrel). In 1927 the island was sold and the infinitely grander Art Deco structure was realised - according to Tony Porter, who helped to restore the hotel to its former glory in the 1980s - after a local architect was commissioned to build a 'great white palace'. 

It would remain a fixture in the social lives of many Bright Young Things escaping the hubbub of London for a weekend in Devon throughout the 1930s. Reached at high-tide by a purpose-built sea-tractor (a descendent of which still operates today) and dubbed the 'smartest hotel west of the Ritz', an invitation to Burgh Island was considered the most prestigious invitation to receive, darling. Throughout these golden years it would see many hundreds of parties, with flapper girls dancing in the grand Ballroom and cocktails flowing in the Ganges Restaurant until the early hours - Harry Roy and his band even performed the Charleston from a floodlit stage which floated in the middle of the seawater rock pool. A man who had been a holidaymaker at a nearby town in his youth would later tell how his parents had forbidden him to venture onto the island as its reputation was considered too 'racy'.

But by the end of the decade, war had reached Britain and had even cast its shadow as far as Burgh Island; the first sign of the changing times was the destruction of the popular Jacob's ladder, which featured in Agatha Christie's 'Evil Under the Sun' and by which visitors could reach one of the loveliest beaches via a steep cliff-face, because it was feared that German troops might use it to stage a secret landing and thus be able to reach the mainland. The glamorous, carefree guests left the hotel and the public was barred from the island as the army took it over: officers were billeted at the hotel itself, while their men moved into the music-hall star's wooden Swiss-style chalet; anti-tank scaffolding traps were set in the sandy causeway between the island and mainland Devon. During the war, the hotel was used as a convalescence centre for wounded RAF pilots and in 1942, it was bombed, destroying the two uppermost floors of the beautiful Art Deco structure. 

The 'great white palace' continued to suffer even in peacetime - in 1948, it was purchased once more and rebuilt to the original design. But thereafter, it was passed from pillar to post and was eventually driven into bankruptcy in 1955. It had, though, become famous once again in the interlude, but for all the wrong reasons. A particularly feckless manager had set about recreating the decadent, luxurious reputation that the hotel had had before the war, advertising in Tatler and Punch; he handed out free cigars and cocktails to guests and, instead of washing up crockery and cutlery, it was simply thrown away, wracking up enormous debts. 

For the next few decades, the hotel's fate seemed to be sealed and its glory days long gone. Successive owners ripped the original structure apart, converting it into self-catering flats, which were advertised on the building's own façade in fluorescent paint, defacing the delicate mint-green and white colour scheme. One particularly shocking plan was to carve up the hotel into timeshare apartments, knocking out the original French windows to replace them with double-glazing and demolishing the once-radiant Sun Lounge to make way for a brand-spanking-new swimming pool. Burgh Island's former residents and locals alike were horrified and, thankfully, the company's endeavours transpired to be an extortionately expensive failure.

Now the ruined shell of what had been a luxurious hotel and an exquisite example of vintage architecture lay abandoned on its island. But, after so many years of being mistreated and manhandled by a succession of perhaps well-meaning but hapless owners, things would soon look up for Burgh Island. During the late 1980s and early 1990s, the island and its hotel were restored to the height of their glamour and glory by the aforementioned Tony Porter and his wife Beatrice, (and who incidentally founded London Fashion Week and spent time working for Biba, a London fashion house and a style staple during the '60s and '70s). Tony documents the arduous journey of the hotel's renovation in his book, which takes its title from the building's nickname, 'The Great White Palace'.

Today, the Burgh Island Hotel has had yet another set of owners since 2006, but they have continued to restore this magical place in a loving manner and one that is sensitive to the original design. The hotel's unique style now once more draws visitors from far and wide to enjoy a Devon cream tea or even, if one visits for one of the frequently-held jazz shows held in the grand Ballroom, a cheeky cocktail! Vintage-style murder mystery parties and decadent balls also feature on the social calendar as they once would have done in Noël Coward's day - and he enjoyed these events so much that, although he only intended to stay for three nights, he remained at the hotel for three weeks.

When one takes in the incredible elegance of Burgh Island, it isn't difficult to see why Mr Coward found it so hard to leave. After the years of hard work put into the place, it is again worthy of the rich and famous of days gone by and is still enjoyed by those who seek an opportunity to turn back time and soak up the vintage glamour.