When Mongolian rough-houser Genghis Kahn decided his back yard was a little on the wee side, he set about expanding his Northeast Asian borders using less-than-polite measures. Times were lean – hell it was the 12th and 13th centuries – but according to history boffins he controlled his empire from a mobile yurt nine metres in diameter and pulled by 22 oxen.

The yurts at Daleacres are a little shy of that size, and thankfully they're fixed to the ground. Nor are they covered in the skins of many slaughtered beasts, as was common during the time of Mr Kahn and his violent land-grab. This is also a plus.

History is a little hazy about the contents of Kahn's yurt (or 'ger' to give it its Mongolian term, for it originated in these parts) but it's unlikely the restless conqueror was welcomed by the king-sized bed plumped up with white linen and soft pillows revealed on lifting the door flap on Daleacres' structures. There's also a sofa which turns into a couple of single beds for our small people, Master Twelve and Miss Ten. (Naughty Kahn had about 500 wives and a shedload of accompanying offspring, so even in his giant yurt belting across the desert, a family game of Scrabble was troublesome.) A barbecue, toaster, microwave, fridge, kettle and semi-romantic LEDs shove this accommodation well into the outdoor district of 'glamping'. Don't be ashamed of the term, even hardened, snobbish campers such as ourselves were battered into comfortable submission by this utterly welcoming setup.

Daleacres sits close to the Kentish coast in West Hythe, a brief jaunt from a sensational beach at Dymchurch. Word to the wise, however: research your tides before visiting. Get them wrong and one is met by a sea wall and some rather snotty water lashing at its steps. But when it recedes, it does so with gusto, revealing about 800-odd metres of soft sand from wall to water.

Half an hour's drive east takes you to the White Cliffs of Dover. Kahn never made it that far (lazy...), and Nat Burton decided against including this fact in his lyrics to the song made famous by Vera Lynn. A lost opportunity, if you ask me. On the way to Dover, feel free to wave heartily at the truck drivers stuck in astonishingly long queues to cross the Channel. They really appreciate the love.

Half an hour's drive north and you've got Canterbury. There's a viciously walled-off cathedral there for those willing to stump up, and some nicely restored city walls nearby for others who aren't. The city-centre retailers do suffer from a paucity of quality 'squishies' according to Miss Ten, but that's not an acceptable reason to cross it off your visit list as far as I'm concerned.

Slightly more than half-an-hour's drive (enough to get deeper into the tracklist of Now 100 than was agreed) in a more westerly direction is Hastings, a site of such historical brutality it'd make Genghis do a little dance.

But to be honest, I wouldn't blame you for simply staying put. Sure there's interesting stuff in the area (with an apparently poor selection of squashable toys) but, grab some supplies, and the fridge and barbecue will provide all for your soft, unfeasibly comfortable stay. It's more than a tent, it's less than a cabin – but it folds together the finest parts of each.

And if a certain historical horseman had been provided with such comforts, perhaps he wouldn't have ended up such a cranky-pants prone to murderous unification.


Prices for a stay in the Daleacres yurts start from £69 per night subject to time of year, and require a minimum of two nights' stay

Supplements apply for weekend stays.

The Yurts can sleep up to two adults and two children.

For more information and to book visit www.experincefreedom.co.uk