Classic Virginia Wine Country Inns

More than one friend seemed perplexed when I announced my plans to visit Virginia wine country. Their bafflement is understandable, as few Virginia wines make it out of the state. The fact that they are so hard to find gives oenophiles all the more reason to visit the vineyards in person. And not only are the estates picturesque, they are surrounded by some of the most historically significant countryside in the United States.

Thomas Jefferson attempted to start a commercial wine industry in 1774, planting vines at what is now Jefferson Vineyards and experimenting with viticulture at Monticello. To the north stands Montpelier, where James Madison laid the groundwork for the Constitution. And just south is Ash Lawn-Highland, the home of James Monroe. All of these historical riches lie within an hour’s drive of one another amid cool woods, rolling fields and white-fenced horse farms backdropped by the forested Blue Ridge Mountains.

We had a splendid time winding our way through this delightful landscape, alternating stops at famous plantation homes with tastings at notable wineries. Bordeaux varieties do particularly well here, and Virginia Viognier has also started to acquire quite a reputation. In addition to Jefferson Vineyards, which makes an array of elegant reds, we most enjoyed our stops at Pippin Hill Farm for its glorious views, Barboursville Vineyards for its fine restaurant, Horton Vineyards for its fearless experimentation, and Keswick Vineyards for its well- structured wines with big fruit and impressive finesse. Even Donald Trump now owns a Virginia winery, the former Kluge Estate, which crafts some refined sparkling wines. But the wines of the neighboring Blenheim Vineyards, owned by rock musician Dave Matthews, were generally too acidic for my taste.

Concerned by reports of wear from readers, we first checked into palatial Keswick Hall, built in 1912 as a residence for Mr. and Mrs. Robert Crawford. Although the property now includes a country club and an unusually scenic golf course, it’s not hard to imagine oneself a houseguest of the Crawfords, especially over a quiet early-morning coffee at the antique dining table in the library.

Keswick Hall impressed from the outset, with an allée of hydrangea bushes leading to the main entrance loggia flanked by spiraling topiary. The lobby-lounge seemed at once luxurious and inviting, with Oriental rugs, wingback chairs and porcelain table lamps. Our room wasn’t ready when we arrived, but we passed a pleasant 45 minutes on the patio overlooking the horizon pool, which faces the golf course and the gently rolling mountains beyond. (Later, a complimentary wine tasting in the clubby bar adjacent to the pool was great fun; the bartender alternated Virginia vintages with California wines of the same varieties, making for some enlightening comparisons.)

We had reserved a Deluxe Balcony Room, which would be more accurately described as a junior suite with a terrace. A comfortable seating arrangement cozied up to the decorative fireplace, and a canopied king bed faced an antique armoire (the room’s only storage space). Brass floor lamps with Corinthian capitals illuminated 19th-century-style oil paintings, and a small carved lion’s head glowered from the top of the writing desk. The terrace had a lounger as well as a table with four chairs, and pleasing views over the golf course.

We enjoyed ourselves immensely at Keswick Hall and found the staff to be universally congenial, but regrettably, the reports of wear are not without foundation. In the lobby-lounge, for example, the backs of several of the pink- upholstered chairs had greyish-black tops from people running their hands across them. In our room, several significant dents and cracks marred the bathroom floor tile, and the underside of the canopy over our bed had frayed fabric flourishes held together in places by safety pins. Some freshening of this otherwise commendable property is clearly overdue.

Keswick Hall 92 Deluxe Room, $405; Deluxe Balcony Room, $725.

Wine lovers who are indifferent to a swimming pool, spa or golf course should consider basing themselves at The 1804 Inn at Barboursville Vineyards instead. This grand bed-and-breakfast originally served as the offices of Virginia Gov. James Barbour. His neighboring mansion was designed by Thomas Jefferson, but was later gutted by fire. The ruins were never torn down, and they still stand in romantic decay just a few feet from the inn. When the Zonins, a famed Italian winemaking family, purchased the estate to create Barboursville Vineyards in 1976, the Barbour offices became their Virginia home. They still are today, but for the majority of the year, the Zonins are not in residence and The 1804 Inn accepts guests.

The Federal-style mansion contains just three huge high-ceilinged suites, the best of which are “Octagon” (closest to the ruins) and “Malvaxia,” both on the second floor. We chose Octagon, which has original wood plank floors, Persian carpets, swaths of toile and an array of oil paintings and eye-catching antiques. The unique bath used to be a library, as evidenced by shelves bearing vintage books and turquoise Ball jars. A gas fireplace framed in Delft tiles warms the living room in winter, but during the balmy weather of our stay, we took advantage of the broad balcony running the length of the suite.

A cooked-to-order breakfast is served in the dining room, and guests have 24-hour access to a refrigerator with complimentary snacks. Otherwise, virtually nonexistent service reaffirms this property’s bed-and-breakfast status. Morning newspapers were unavailable, and when we requested access to the Internet, the innkeeper responded, “Sure! I have a computer in the office. Now, you won’t be long, will you?” We loved lodging in our own historic plantation home, but travelers requiring services beyond breakfast and an emergency cell phone number should book elsewhere. Avoid the cottage accommodations in any case.

The 1804 Inn Malvaxia Suite, $525; Octagon Suite, $550.

Twenty miles to the southwest, the gracious Clifton Inn provides 17 accommodations housed within an 18th-century mansion, a gourmet restaurant, a horizon swimming pool and grounds punctuated by specimen maples. The main house originally belonged to Thomas Jefferson’s daughter, whose husband served as governor of Virginia. Rather than being decorated in the traditional style of Keswick Hall and The 1804 Inn, Clifton successfully mixes antiques with contemporary touches, giving the property a distinct and stylish personality.

At Clifton, many of the rooms can be snug, making it important to reserve as large an accommodation as possible. Aside from the Carriage House with its lofted bedroom, the main building’s “Virginia” and “Washington” suite categories are the most spacious. We stayed in the Blue Ridge Suite, a Virginia accommodation. In its airy living room, a small flat-screen TV sat atop the canary-yellow writing table, and a decanter of Madeira occupied one of the bamboo end tables on either side of the sofa. The modern bath came with a single vanity and large, multi-head walk-in shower.

Clifton’s staff proved to be exceedingly warm and obliging. At check-in, the receptionist seemed genuinely pleased to see us and the engaging general manager, Niall Reid, took time to chat several times during our stay, recommending winery visits and stopping by our table at dinner. The restaurant manager and our waiter also impressed us with their knowledge of the menu and enthusiasm for the food.

The Clifton Inn is a sophisticated, full-service alternative for those seeking something cozier than Keswick Hall.

Clifton Inn 91 Washington suite, $415; Virginia suite, $525.

A Place to Avoid in Virginia's Wine Country

After winding through the idyllic countryside dotted with Civil War battlefields and former plantations, we arrived at The Tides Inn, set on a quiet cove off Chesapeake Bay. We approached the property with some expectation, as it had been among the top 500 Hotels of 2012, listed by a leading U.S. travel magazine.

We pulled up to an empty valet stand with an empty lemonade dispenser. After wandering about for a while, we tracked down the front desk and checked into our Vista Suite With Balcony in the garden Wing. Our living room was uninvitingly dark, but drawing the curtains only made things worse, as the light revealed a series of brown stains on the sheer drapes, as if someone had tossed a cup of coffee on them.

After finding faux-wood laminate peeling off the furniture and rust on the bathtub’s grab bar, we needed some fresh air. the balcony had a lovely water view, but its unappealing carpeting and cheap furniture sent us back inside to the telephone. We switched to a suite without a balcony in the main building, but here, mold had colonized the grout in the shower stall, and a large “k” done in blue crayon decorated the shade of a floor lamp.

The helpful front desk manager looked both pained and empathetic when we cut our stay short and checked out the next morning. She took my e-mail address and promised she would have the director of rooms get in touch with me about the dire condition of our accommodations. Needless to say, I have yet to hear a word from anyone.