A Restorative Weekend Getaway

at Tanglewood Farm B&B in Southern Pines

A Restorative Weekend Getaway at Tanglewood Farm B&B in Southern Pines

By Hayley Hutson

 

I’m no stranger to mini adventures. Living in North Carolina, there’s certainly no shortage of charming towns to satisfy any craving I might want to give in to without hopping on a plane. When I’m missing the ocean’s salty breeze, I can drive to Wilmington or the Outer Banks. If I’m in the mood to spend time hiking and bar hopping in the mountains, I have Boone and Asheville to choose between. And when I’m feeling particularly stressed or overwhelmed and want to escape the Queen City for a while, the Sandhills region is a perfect respite.

 

“But what does a freelance writer have to be stressed about?” Cue the thunderous roars of laughter of freelance writers everywhere. I love what I do, but if you think it’s all free trips and relaxation, I will happily guide you to the cavernous pit of rejection that I spend the majority of my time tap-dancing in. After a particularly taxing week for us both, my boyfriend and I could not have been more ready to run away for a weekend. Our temporary sanctuary? Tanglewood Farm Bed and Breakfast in Southern Pines. Set on a 10-acre horse farm, this unique bed and breakfast boasts all the peacefulness of a secluded hideaway with the convenience of being located just a few minutes from downtown Southern Pines.

Not Your Average Bed and Breakfast

As we weaved down the country road that leads to the bed and breakfast, we almost drove right past it. Luckily, the horses mozying around out front let us know that we had arrived. Our host, Lindsay O’Reilly, greeted us out front with a big smile as we pulled up to the Fox Den Suite, our humble abode for the weekend. She introduced herself and let us know that she was always a text away if we needed anything, and then she was on her way to let us get settled in. The suites at Tanglewood Farms are more like apartments, each with its own private entrance, kitchen, living area, bathroom, and bedroom.

When you think of a bed and breakfast, you typically picture Victorian-era vibes with lace doilies galore. Instead, our fully-equipped suite had all the amenities one would expect in an Airbnb – kitchen supplies, a flat-screen TV with a DVD player, WiFi, toiletries, and a library filled with books and movies. My favorite part – without question – was the adjoining patio with our own table and chairs. As I opened the patio door to check out the rest of our digs, I was met with the tiny faces of our new neighbors. Over the course of the weekend, these chickens would become one of the best things about this farm bed and breakfast.

 

They were timid at first, keeping a safe distance while inspecting the two of us – no doubt checking to see if we had any food to toss their way. Upon reading through the thorough welcome binder that Lindsay had left for us, I learned that the chickens loved blueberries and we were more than welcome to feed them some. Mission accepted. Once we were settled in, we ventured out to grab groceries at the nearby Harris Teeter before returning to enjoy some wine on the patio with our feathered friends. I can attest to the fact that they do indeed love blueberries. Food turned out to be the way to their hearts, something I can relate to, and the chickens quickly got comfortable getting closer and even letting us pet them.

The Pièce de Résistance: Tanglewood Farm Breakfast

Lindsay checked in to confirm that we were interested in the included breakfast that would be delivered to our door around 8:30 am on Saturday and Sunday morning. A deep dive into the property’s Google reviews let me know that I would be insane to turn down this breakfast, so naturally I was excited to see what all the fuss was about. After a delicious meal at Elliotts on Linden, we tucked in for a good night’s sleep in our king-sized bed.

 

When Lindsay knocked at the door the next morning with our breakfast, I was shocked by the amount of food on the tray. There were herby egg, cheese, and bacon sandwiches alongside strawberries & cream-filled puff pastries, parfaits with lemon butter cream and strawberry cake, and a tall pitcher of orange juice. I’m not usually a breakfast person, but I’m not exaggerating when I say that I savored and devoured every single bite. It might have been the best breakfast I’ve had in my life. That is, until I enjoyed an equally mouthwatering breakfast the following morning. If you get the chance to try Lindsay’s homemade pop-tarts, do yourself a favor and take it.

A Perfectly Relaxing Weekend at Tanglewood Farm

 

The rest of our weekend consisted of long walks through Reservoir Park, drinks at Pinehurst Brewing, ice cream and live music at Red’s Corner, and plenty of time relaxing on our quiet patio at Tanglewood Farm. We enjoyed every second of our time in Southern Pines, a wonderful pause from our fast-paced lives back in Charlotte. Before this weekend getaway, I had never stayed at a farm bed and breakfast. Now, I can’t imagine having stayed anywhere else during this adventure.

 

Tanglewood Farm was the pinnacle of our trip and a key contributor to the level of peace and relaxation we were lucky enough to experience in the Pinehurst area. There was such a soothing energy about the property, one that allowed us to fully embrace our mini vacation and let go of the stresses we had been holding onto prior to our arrival. Lindsay and her team know what they’re doing and have curated an environment that is inviting, restful, and simply a joy to be a part of. Weeks later, I’m still salivating at the mere thought of those breakfasts and eagerly anticipating my next trip back to Southern Pines.

 

Hayley Hutson is a freelance travel writer based in Charlotte. Channeling her passion for exploration into her work, she loves writing about everything from charming towns off the beaten path to luxury spa resorts in popular destinations. When she’s not on the road, you can often find her listening to a podcast or wheezing her way through a hot yoga class. Follow her on IG @haaayleyh.

 

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