There was a time Newquay was so raucous (and risque) the local authority had to ban thong-style ‘mankinis’, as popularised by Sacha Baron Cohen’s comedy creation Borat.

That was in 2009. Back then, the surfer’s town had turned full-on stag and hen party destination, becoming so synonymous with under-age drinking and strip clubs it was dubbed ‘Britain’s Magaluf’.

But since the local ‘inappropriate clothing’ ban came into effect – ruling out the mankinis and inflatable penises (which had also caught on) – reports of anti-social behaviour have plummeted.

The Cornish resort has, to the great relief of locals, turned a corner. Could Newquay even be on the brink of turning posh?

The arrival of a new Nici hotel suggests: maybe. 

The three-strong boutique chain, also with popular properties in Bournemouth and the New Forest, is aimed squarely at the Soho House crowd who fancy glamorous trips to the seaside and will fork out £500 a night for a suite.

The Nici Newquay opened this July, perched on the cliff above Great Western Beach, a pretty stretch of blonde sand. It’s in a building that was previously The Victoria, one of the town’s oldest and most iconic, but tired, hotels.

Now, however, the once gloomy eyesore has been reimagined in fresh pastel colours to give it a Miami-inspired art deco energy that is Nici’s signature look.

Inside, everything feels upbeat and bright: light teal walls, glass chandeliers and swirling shell art. 

The Italian-inspired Amalfi restaurant, popping with vivid colours and blown-up pictures of the Italian coast, opens to a wide terrace facing the coast.

There are 82 bedrooms in creamy whites, with lemon-print chairs, yellow-and-green surfboard decorations and floor-to-ceiling French doors leading to balconies; the best with views to Porth Island and Lusty Glaze. Expect Nespresso machines, mini-bars, monsoon showers and vast beds.

Daily cinema screenings are held. There’s a spa with an indoor pool, hydrotherapy pool, sauna and steam room. 

The hotel also offers a whole range of free seaside activities including beach yoga, boardwalk runs, sea swims and surf lessons. 

On my visit, my friend’s daughter took up the latter, spending two happy hours thrashing about in the waves.

Guests can borrow surfboards, paddleboards, bodyboards, snorkel sets and wetsuits for free. No one, however, can promise you a spot on the public beach, which was heaving when we arrived soon after the grand opening.

If the Nici has the vibe of a fashionable member’s club, it has prices to match. It’s £69 for a bottle of Cornish Camel Valley sparkling wine, £80 for Moet. The lobster spaghetti was scrumptious but set you back £55. That said, pizzas were from a reasonable £14.

Everything was delicious, especially the hot stack of fluffy pancakes with bacon drenched in maple syrup for breakfast in bed.

Meanwhile, the wonderful ‘wild divine’ oil massage at the spa was phenomenal – but at £135, steep. Outside the refined confines of the Nici, Newquay itself was a mixed bag.

We arrived on Friday afternoon to find the high street bustling with topless tattooed men and loud families heading for slot machines. The sweet smell of weed drifted here and there.

The song ‘Fame’ pumped out from surf shops. Tat shops offered shell mobiles and BB guns. A man passed by on a mobility scooter with two skull and crossbones flags flying off the back. 

The posh Nici felt a little rather out of sync, although there were green shoots of hipster-style gentrification: the Whistlefish Gallery with its Cornish prints; the Clover Club bar and restaurant famous for its bottomless brunch; and Good Lyfe organic zero-waste shop.

Then you have the gem in the crown of Newquay’s reinvention, chef Adam Handling’s Ugly Butterfly restaurant at Headland Hotel. It opened in July 2025 to such acclaim it earned a Michelin star in four months.

We tucked into a 12-course tasting menu of innovative dishes featuring local ingredients: tuna tartare fashioned to look like an oyster; fresh seabass wrapped in kohlrabi; lobster with mussel butter; beef fillet seasoned with herbs foraged from nearby cliffs.

As we dined, we watched the sun setting over Fistral Beach, famous for its reliable surfing waves. Posh? Most definitely. Not a mankini in sight.