Once I came very, very close to buying a cottage in the country. Quite what prompted this I can no longer recall. Perhaps I had been reading too much in the way of Mary Wesley, spending too many Saturdays to Mondays with friends in Sussex or, most likely, seduced by the glossy photographs to be found on the property pages of 'Country Life'. Whatever, my mind was made up. I should forsake the noise and tension of town for the rural idyll.
And so it was that I found, fell in love with, and determined upon Nantiago. It was, after all, irresistible. Situated on the Shropshire Powys border, in a glorious blend of hills and valleys, an erstwhile rectory for the nearby village of Llanfair Waterdine, basking in the sunlight of early summer, a true cottage of content. Was I mad? Yes. Mad for the pillared entrance gates, mad for the many winking gables, mad for the Gothic windows, mad for the roses around the door, mad for the farmhouse kitchen complete with gleaming red Aga [I should soon learn to cook], and mad most of all for the policies, three acres of gardens and grounds.
Because it was there, centred upon the lake, that I thought to fulfil my wildest dreams. Along with the kingfishers and dippers for company, I should create my Utopia. Looking back now, over time, I see the impossibility, but then the steep sided hillside behind the house, the spinney and paddock would, with ease I felt, soon be transformed into the most wonderful of terraced gardens. For inspiration I looked no further than the gardens of Italy. Undaunted, I saw in my mind's eye the walks of the Villa Medici, the flower gardens of the Villa Pamfili and the unspoken grandeur of the Villa d'Este transported into the Welsh Marches.
Viewed from the hall door, the lake beckoned. In an instant I knew that there should be gaily painted Venetian poles to which, absurd as it is in the telling, there would be moored some form of rowing skiff, a gondola even, in which, during the lengthening shadows of midsummer, jolly friends, released from city cares, and I would explore the upper reaches of the Iago Brook.
The Iago Brook. Was there ever such an apparently innocent little stream so well named? For that treacherous flow of water became the undoing of a dream. A full structural survey of the house revealed, with no place at all for error, that that traitor of a brook fed not simply my [already mine!] lovely lake but also the cellars where, dark and dank, deep water idly slapped against the descending stairs. Moreover, every room silently expired dampness. And did I know of the falling plaster, of the peeling stucco, of the rotting floors, of the creeping fungus?
I fled!
P.S. My photograph shows the front elevation of Nantiago together with the lake fed by the Iago Brook. It is taken from the sale particulars of the time prepared by Knight Frank and Rutley International, now restyled simply Knight Frank.
94 comments:
Oh Edith, what a great pity you didn't get to own that wonderful place...it's so moreish!
Dear Kerry, Thank you for your comment. All now, as they say, water under the bridge [or house in this case]. I am not at all sure that I would ever have been up to the wet/dry rot, not to mention the ongoing expense.
Oh, I know it well, this love affair with houses. Only my small bank balance has kept me from making a fool of myself at various times in my life. But some places do entrance you into an immediate mental occupation, redecorating, planting borders, dreaming of the canopy under which you will entertain in summer months. Been there, got the tee-shirt!
Rosemary.
Dear Rosemary, Thank you very much for your 'understanding' comment. Oh yes, there have been other Nantiagos since those days but none ever quite as serious. Now I am relieved not to have the work and worry!
It looks so idyllic in that picture, but having in my past one house whose basement filled with water on a regular basis, you were right to run. I'm guessing that Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater holds no appeal for you either?
hi edith,
what a beautiful property. although i do miss the "naked truth" picture already.
i cannot count how many homes i have almost bought. i've lost track. i finally settled on this little place i'm now in and am quite happy.
water damage or the threat of it scares me to death. i'm not a big fan of damp, musty smells either.
thank you for sharing your wonderful story.
~janet
Dear Cyndy, Thank you so much for your comment. You are probably right, Fallingwater would most likely lose its appeal for me immediately I was left to face the maintenance bills. Happily it can be viewed from afar with no worry on that score.
Dear Janet, Thank you so much for your comment. All good things, as you well know, must come to an end and today it is a return to that staple of life, plain old 'bricks and mortar'.
Like you, I favour dry houses and do not care for that horrid damp which seeps its way stealthily into everything - rather like living in a wet bath towel.
I guess you can't judge a book by its cover. From the outside, it looks ideal and sounds like a wonderful lifestyle. I would have enjoyed the scenery with a dream in mind and fled, as well. :)
Dear Amy, Thank you for your comment.Yes, this certainly was a case of 'Buyer Beware!! Looking back, I can see that it was just a dream and I no longer have any regrets.
Love at first sight, everything is wonderful. Yes I have experienced it, and I am talking about houses now. Our house is over 100 years old, but it was love at first sight. This house was full of surprises, but we have coped and lived here over 15 years already.
Your post was oh so interesting. Thank you.
Dear Metscan, Thank you very much for your kind comment. Can anything ever match one's first romance, and houses are, in this sense, not so very different from people?! Your own house sounds lovely, which I am sure it is.
Hi Edith,
First of all I would like to thank you for you sweet comments on my blog. I want you to know that I always look forward to them!
You had me laughing out loud, while reading your story. This is because you remind me a lot of 'me'!
Like you I can be carried away by dreams and see something that is not really there appear right in front of my eyes. Luckily I have a very down to earth husband who can pull me down if necessary.
So sad your dreamhouse turned out to be a house of horrors. It looks beautiful on your photos. Hope you will frind it in time.
Have a good evening!
Lieve groet, Madelief
Dear Madelief, Thank you so much for your comment. Alas, although I do still flick through the property pages of 'Country Life' where the most desirable of houses are advertised, I really think that I do not have the energy required for a major move. And, when all is said and done, I am not really, deep down,a country person, much as I love it in theory.
What a beautiful, idyllic setting! It is such a charming house. Really too bad about the structural issues. For decades, I've longed for such a place myself. Could there have been a better situation to bring up children? We have always been stuck in city townhouses or the ubiquitous suburban plot. Even here in the midst of the bucolic boonies, we have that mere half-acre. I must stand in my garden daily and view the three-acre expanse that belongs to my next-door neighbor. (Nice views, though.) As for damp cellars, our Florida minds cannot comprehend such entities (cellars are not built here), but it does sound less than ideal. But yes, I can fully understand the problem with structural defects. I had my heart set on a five-acre plot, complete with pond and wood, but the house was a shambles, and the one we sit in now, on the measly half acre, was $20K cheaper and sound.
Dear FG, Thank you very much for your comment. We are instructed not to covet, but we do!! It seems to me now that your half an acre is more than enough to manage and you, very obviously, do far more than manage it. Indeed, I know that you have created a wonderful garden which is full of interest and colour, and creatures!, and I am sure is a million times nicer than that of your neighbour.
As for cellars, damp or otherwise, I now would rather not know.
Dear Edith, such a beautiful place! How can one look upon a cottage and not think of having gardens, terraced and even perhaps leading to the water's edge?
Apparently you made the correct choices along the way. ;)
Dear Edith - I fell in love with Nantiago with each word of your beautiful narrative. I assumed there must be a sting in the tale or rather a dampener on your dreams, else who would not want to leave London for such a paradise.
Laura
Dear Diana, Thank you so much for your comment. I fear that the problem with Nantiago was that it was a little too close to the water and I hesitate to think what it might have been like in winter. Wellington boots in the drawing room, I suspect!
Dear Laura, Thank you so much for your dryly amusing comment! It was, probably is still, a lovely house and, at the time, I very much wanted it. Now I am glad not to have the worry of maintaining three acres - not usually available in Maida Vale!
Dear Edith, how wise of you to flee the dampness of that house. I work out in the wind and the rain and it matters not just as long as I have a warm and cosy home to go back to at night and a bowl of hot stew...all we need really....
Just don't give up! Keep dreaming.
Dear Michael, Thank you so much for your warming comment. I do so agree with your sentiment that our needs are few in order to be content, but, oh, how wonderful it is to dream......
Dear Jutka, Thank you for your comment. I fear, dear Jutka, that I have no trouble dreaming......it is reality that I seem to have problems with!!
Hi Edith, it is always wonderful to have a charming house but never fun to own a money pit.
It is obvious you made the right decision.
Eileen
Dear Eileen, Thank you for your wise comment for it would, I am sure, have become a constant drain on one's resources. However, at the time it all seemed possible, and then it wasn't.
Wonder who DOES live there now? Presume they have sorted the damp. And done what to Your Garden Plans? Somehow the Edith Hope we meet in this blog lives in the city, and visits the country ;>)
Dear Diana of EE, Thank you very much for your comment. I have never returned to Nantiago so have no idea at all what finally happened. Certainly, I am sure it was sold and, doubtless, the new owners, with greater courage than I had, tackled the damp.
But you are right. I do not think that when all is said and done I am a country person and probably would, in a short while, have pined to be back in London. We shall never know!!
I live among falling plaster, peeling stucco, rotting floors and creeping fungus. And I love every charming minute of it! ;^)
Dear Willow, Thank you for your comment which made me smile. It is perhaps a well worn phrase but, in my case at least, although the girl could be taken from the city, the city could not be taken from the girl!!
I am thankful for the structural surveys even though they smash our dreams and bring us sadly back to reality. And that property was certainly worthy of your dreams! We had a survey done before purchasing our property six years ago and it revealed all kinds of problems - fortunately they were easily remedied problems and because of the survey we were able to convince the seller to reduce the price enough to afford having them fixed.
Dear Edith
We call it 'real estate fever,' and I'm so glad you gleaned the salient facts before the close of escrow.
I very nearly purchased a weekend getaway on Lake Michigan before we moved to California.
Although I had once gone all the way, and had, in fact, bought a place in a historic country town - too charming for words, circa 1850, no heating or plumbing indoors.
During that experience, I learned that I loathed being 4 hours away the the vibrant culture of Chicago. And did not wish to renovate for 5 years. Still, I came close to doing the same thing, but in a lakeside setting.
Thankfully, the fever abated in time to scrap the notion. And here I am, living in a paradise that is Marin County.
Dear Ginny, Thank you so much for your comment. What you say is so very true, the structural surveys do smash one's dreams but, possibly, from time to time that is no bad thing and one needs to be reminded of the real world, however harsh that may appear to be.
You certainly seem to have done well with your own house and I suspect that six years on the original problems have long since been sorted and forgotten.
Dear Alice, Thank you very much for your comment. Your 1850s house sounds wonderful. Already, in my imagination, ignoring all of the problems you speak of, I am inhabiting it. But, of course, real life is very different from living a dream. Oh, the relief when one is able to get shot of one's property mistakes!
Where you live now sounds to be near perfect. Keep with it!!
Edith what a great story and although Nantiago looks picture perfect I read the relief you had of not purchasing it in the end. And how lucky you were to run.
Before we bought this place 20 years ago, Bob really had his heart set on one we looked at just before this. The closer we got to getting it the more worried I became because somehow I just didn't feel right about it. I finally worked up the nerve to tell him and we've been glad ever since. Not because of anything we found out later but because we found this one. This one was a horror itself but we saw the possibilites. It had a horse path up to the house, thistles big enough to log, they shoved the ground back just far enough to build the house that no one ever loved enough to do anything with. No flowers, no landscaping, nothing. Guess you might say we got a blank slate, sort of. Ha! We're out in the country surrounded by huge Douglas Fir trees, a half hour in either direction to a town with more than a mini mart or small grocery store but we love it. Sure has been a lot of work and still is but o'well at least we didn't buy the first one.
Dear Edith, You made the right choice ... dankness can put a damper on charm very quickly and constant repairs can be a burden on ones patience and pocketbook. I am speaking from a two hundred year old house... I love it but sometimes I dream of flying away. I can see why your were tempted though ... lovely setting. ;>)
Dear Edith,
What a love story! It's funny how blind we can be when we have a dream. (yikes! Hopefully, not in my case!) We tried to have wide open eyes when we bought our castle but, we were also, very wide eyed, if you know what I mean. Tom and I couldn't sleep for a couple of weeks after we first saw it. I had butterflies in my stomach. It all felt vaguely familiar. Then, I realized that I actually had a "crush" on this house. We, now, also, have an extremely damp basement that is giving us headaches. (I am required to say that but, in reality, the damp is making the floor buckle and I am dreaming of the front hall's ugly geometric slate's demise! It's been chipping up a little.) Anyway, your Nantiago sounds better suited to Jeremy Fisher who, you probably remember, really liked to get his feet wet.
Still, what a lovely dream!
Love, Me
P.S. I LOVED your "note". Time is crunched this week and I don't know how I'll be able to answer you back Part of this is because I will be double digging the soil in the border near the stone wall. Wish me luck! We've hired a young man from our church to help. He may need a pick axe (wince) but, hopefully, it will be gorgeous dirt when we're through with it!
Ah Edith, I had such an experience myself, a mental love affair with a wonderful old home. There she was, sitting on 40 beautiful acres with a clear running stream and 200 year old trees gracing her drive. The only difference is.... I bought her. I spent many years repairing her rotting floorboards, fighting the mildew and mold which grew lovely mushrooms in the walls and learning to live with the scent of sulfur springs that surround the property. Although the old gal will never be 100%, I love her dearly. She has fulfilled all my best imaginings from long ago when first we met.
Never was a brook so deftly named. I love this story, Edith. It's all metaphor!
Dear RG, Thank you so much for your comment. What you say is very true, one does, if one is honest, know if something is right or not as was the case of the house you did not buy. Your present one does, though, sound lovely and is clearly right out in the country and probably as far from the 'madding crowd' as it is possible to be. I imagine that by now you have done something about taming those thistles!!
Dearest Carol, Thank you so much for your comment. Now I know for a fact that what you have, all 200 years worth, is very special indeed and, what is more, you are surrounded with the most glorious countryside. Of course, we all have those odd moments when we should wish to be elsewhere but, as we both know, they quickly pass.
Dearest Katy, Thank you so very much for your comment. I am well able to imagine how you fell in love with your beautiful house and its situation. Which of us would not have done the same? And I know that although it represents a very big project, and much in the way of time, hard work and expense, you will succeed.
The 'note' does not require a reply - I do not wish to give you further work so do not worry at all. Good luck with the stone wall borders. Whip that helper into action!!
Dear Jeri, Thank you very much for your very sympathetic and understanding comment. Your house is, very obviously, a dream come true and how very sensible you are to accept that it will probably never be completely perfect. Nothing, of course, in life ever is and we are none the worse for that. I love the voice of content which comes through what you write.
Dear Charlotte, Thank you so much for your very kind comment. I am, of course, delighted that you have picked up on the Othello connection. Strange that the brook was named Iago and the house Nantiago!
Dear Edith, Living in the countryside has a charm of its own, away from the humdrum of the city life, amidst the comforts of sprawling greens. What more can one ask for ... if the location is close to a water body. Divine Bliss!
Its always a pleasure to read your blogs, as your words, storytelling prowess brighten my day. Looking fwd to readin more n more
PS:Thank you for stopping by and all your get well soon wishes. Regards, Radhika @ Evergreen Tree
Dear Radhika, Thank you so much for your very generous and kind comment. To garden where there is a ready supply of water, and surrounded by wonderful countryside, is indeed close to perfection. Sadly, in this case it was not to be.
I am so happy to know that you are making progress.
Nant in Welsh, I have learned since living here, means brook, so the naming of the house after the brook that indeed runs through its very roots is very apt indeed! A beautiful house and dream, though.
Dear Sara, Thank you so much for your informative comment. I had thought that the name must have some meaning but, never having investigated, was unaware as to what it might be. It is really good to know.
As you say, in th light of this most aptly named!!
Ah, the seduction of a lovely looking house. We almost went down that road ourselves with an old manse. Fortunately, our inspector cleared the cobwebs from our eyes.
I've heard some say that buying a house is like a marriage, so best to find out before the you commit your heart, soul and pocketbook.
(And like a marriage, it's usually the ones who require less maintenance who are more pleasurable to be with in the long term!) :)
Dear MsS, Thank you so much for your comment. Your analogy of houses being rather like marriage I thought to be not only very amusing, but also most apt. And I think that you are so right about long term maintenance!
You are such a lovely writer. Whatever the story you write, I always enjoy reading it. Sometimes it is so well written I am not sure if it's fiction or truth! Well, books do seem to have that aire about them.
~Randy
Dear Randy, Thank you so very, very much for such a kind comment. It has really touched me. I am fortunate to have had, and be having, a very varied life in which there is always something to be written about, whether people or places. Nantiago was very real at the time, but not sadly destined for me.
From the pictures of it who would not fall in love with a beautiful place like that. Certainly made for dreams and a gardeners delight. I am glad you found out that below all of that beauty laid something rotten LOL!
Dear Lona, Thank you for your comment. Nantiago certainly did have a dreamlike quality to it. But, as you say, good to have woken up before the dream became a nightmare!
Yes, Edith...I certainly know from ongoing experience that you were very wise not to fall into the temptation of the "rural idyll" of Nantiago: the historic charm, the "glorious blend of hills and valleys," the "roses around the door" (for me, the huge lilac bushes and the numerous apple trees), the "gleaming red Aga" (for me, the original crane in the fireplace), the lake, & etc.
Please don't misunderstand, I absolutely LOVE our farmhouse and long to be there much more than I am able, YET...
Tens of thousands $$$ later (the cost of lifting the historic farmhouse off its foundation and pouring a new concrete cellar in place of the former one, which literally had a "river running through it"), I must still squeegee water from its new concrete floors during each visit - that underground lake under our hill that is said to furnish water to the village below?!?! In addition, the thousand we spent on an exterminator last fall who supposedly removed all squirrels from our property (after we heard them scampering around in the rafters above our dining room and kitchen) was certainly money down the drain, as I spied and heard several busy little "eastern greys" running over our roof this summer - wonder where they will burrow inside this fall?!! And the legions of flies...who are wont to nest in old plaster walls and hatch out only to fly inside! Hopefully the "Fly Hotels" I recently installed on several windows will at least gather them out of sight! Then, there are the lovely little field mice, who before restoration had made the house their home for, I'm certain, the whole of its 180 years of existence - a charming little mousehole exists at the bottom corner of one of the original old plank doors! Beatrix Potter might have welcomed them, but the two I have actually found inside were quickly disposed of never to be nibbling again - AND any of their relatives will certainly meet a similar fate!
Yes, as Henny Youngman put it, "You can't buy love, but you can pay heavily for it." And, "Love is an ocean of emotions entirely surrounded by expenses." ~ Lord Dewar
Cassandra ♥
Dear Cassandra, Thank you so much for your wonderful comment and for taking the time and trouble to write in such detail. I am left not knowing whether to laugh or cry with you. Nantiago was, indeed, a lucky escape for me and you have certainly put into perspective the problems attached to owning one's dream house.
Your own country house,which I know a little of from glimpses afforded in your previous postings, does indeed sound a mixed blessing. Of course it is lovely and clearly full of many original features but the installation of new cellars creates in my mind a very alarming picture. How very brave of you and your husband to have carried on with such a project which will have ensured a future for the house, not simply for now but also for generations to come.
The livestock is something I should not be able to deal with very well but I suppose one learns to cope!!
Whatever, I do hope that you will have many, many years of enjoyment, and reducing expense!, from the house and hope, possibly, that it may occasionally feature in your weblog.
The picture is of a very beautiful house. It can be anybody's dream house. Your description is clear and vivid. It is a story well told. I have dream houses but it will reamin as dreams at the moment.
Dear Autumn Belle, Thank you so much for your comment. Nantiago was, ideed, a very pretty house but looking back there was too much which needed doing for it ever to have been anything but a worry. And the garden would have required, I now see, a small fortune.
Oh, Edith! I was very much caught up in your dream and felt the crashing disappointment! We once were going to build a home on an idyllic sight located along a babbling stream. Our dream was squashed however, when, after a torrential rain, the brook became a raging torrent that submerged the whole property under four feet of water. We had to let that one go, but now I have Deb's Garden.
Still, I think if I were you I might consider another, dryer country cottage!
Dear Deborah, Thank you for your comment. It would appear that either there is insufficient water or, as in the case of your dream home and Nantiago, far too much. Like you, I was dreadfully disappointed at the time but one does get over these things.
Well, right up until the submerged cellars, I admit to thinking you were quite mad not to have purchased Nantiago. Generally peeling paint and plaster can be repaired, however, altering Nature's course through your cellar, and rising through the walls, is not so easily fixed. As beautiful as Nantiago looks and sounds, I think you were very smart to flee! Perhaps though there's another Nantiago, somewhere, on higher ground?
What beautiful architecture on a gorgeous piece of property. Good you ran though. You would have had a costly mistake on your hands. The dampness alone would damper my dreams.
Dear Clare, Thank you so much for your comment. As you may well imagine, peeling plaster and paint hold no fears for me since I deal with them both on a very regular basis in both London and Budapest. However, as you so rightly point out, diverting water, especially when it is in torrential quantities, is not to be undertaken lightly. Not by me, at any rate!!
Dear GWGT, Thank you for your comment. Yes, you are so right, Nantiago did look wonderful. Too good to be true, perhaps. For me, fleeing was the only option although I walked away briskly rather than ran!!
I often look in Knight Frank's window and press my nose metaphorically against the glass and dream of what it might be like to live in one of their advertised country piles. Preferably a dry one mind.
Dear Kathy, Thank you for your comment. I know exactly what you mean. For me, it is the country house pages of Country Life, although far too many have the ubiquitous indoor pool for my liking. Come to think of it, that was the problem with Nantiago!!
If only Othello could have been so lucky to avoid his Iago. Great story!
Quite a dreamy story, dear Edith, with a sad/happy ending. What a nightmare that would have been ... you forgot black mold, which is a killer (our neighboring cottage spent a small fortune undoing the damage)! BTW, your word for cottage is quite different from mine ... Nantiago looks like a mansion!
Edith, we also had a dream home that didn't work out. With a forested area, backing on a river, it was a dream. And I am glad the dream didn't come true as there is a sub division being built on the vacant lot next door to it, that is a nightmare!
I read this post yesterday, but ran out of time to comment. What a beautiful place! My husband and I have talked many times about the thought of moving out to more of a country setting, as much as the open space appeals to me I'd miss being so close to a major city.
It sounds like it wasn't meant to be for the you and the house. I don't think I'd want to go into a house that needed that much work. I do have a friend and her husband bought a historical house here and the contractor told her it would be easier to knock the house down and start over. But the house has too much character to do that to it. I guess it takes a special type of person willing to do all those repairs to an old house.
Dear Edith,
Oh, what a lovely setting for a cottage. I wonder if it has an owner now and if they are dry or damp. I have grown to love your tales. You really must consider writing a book. I would buy it. [I missed you on my blog today; I posted about my PeeGees.]
Hope you are having a great week.
~ Julie
Dear Sarah, Thank you so much for your comment. I am delighted that you picked up on the Othello connection although I am not in the least surprised that you should.
Dearest Joey, Thank you very much for your comment. You are right, black mould is a killer - and does one ever really obliterate it? All in all I think that I had a very fortunate escape although I sometimes think about how the garden might have been. I think that Nantiago looks bigger than it really is. All the bedrooms are tucked into the roof, as I recall.
Dearest D, Thank you for your comment. What you say is so often the case, the dream can be shattered overnight by something happening, new building, etc., which is totally outside of one's control. Unless one can own an entire county, one can never be sure! However, I do think that you have struck lucky, or more likely bought wisely, at KG.
Dear Catherine, Thank you so much for your comment. The countryside has great appeal on a hot summer's day, less so in the middle of the coldest winter on record. Also, as in your case, with a young family growing up it becomes desperately inconvenient to be away from the town, particularly when they require transport at all hours!
Your friends do appear to have taken on something of a project!
Dear Julie, Thank you so much for your kind comment. I have never returned to that part of Shropshire and so do not know what actually happened to Nantiago. I imagine that it finally sold and I should like to think that the new owners have solved all of the many problems and are living happily ever after!
Dear Edith,
I can see why you fell hook,line, and sinker for it. Such an idyllic position and .....a lake. Something that my husband has always wanted but, something that was always out of reach for us.
I have seen a couple of Sarah Beeney's new series where she rescues houses that people have bought, usually without surveys, and have so much wrong with them. The misery and despair that damp, dry rot, mould and every other terrible misfortune that can be cast upon a house, causes the owners, is awful. A great escape I think Edith.
Also, I noticed the disappearance of Rutley. When I worked in Mayfair, many moons ago, they were the agents that my bosses used all the time. XXXX
Dear Jacqueline, Thank you so much for your comment. Yes, the disappearance of 'Rutley'. I was once told an extremely lewd rhyming slang for the estate agents when they were a trio, but, I fear, it cannot be repeated here in a public place.....it started with BITE....
I rarely have a chance to see Sarah Beeney, being without a television, but do quite admire her slightly common touch which is punctuated with very sound advice!
Dear Edith, your words paint a beautiful picture to futher delight the senses upon viewing such a scene of peace and tranquility. Who would know such a tragedy of mold and dampness would permeate such an enchanting place? How wonderful that you have kept the memory of your desire to live there... but instead of wishes for "what could have been" thankfulness for "what wasn't".
Dear Meredehuit, Thank you so much for your comment. You are so right, looking back over time I think how very fortunate I am that Nantiago was never mine. One cannot, sensibly, live a dream and I feel that the cold and damp would, eventually, have got me down.
What a wonderful post....I would have fallen for the place too!
What a wonderful dream....I must admit that I share one such as yours. But, your sad ending just goes to show that appearances can be deceiving. I am so glad you were able to discover the problem before you bought your cottage and had it turn into a nightmare.
Dear Linda, Thank you so much for your comment. Nantiago was a lovely house set in the most beautiful countryside but that, I am afraid, is as far as it went!
Dear Noelle, Thank you very much for your comment. Some things, as I am sure you know too, are just not meant to be and Nantiago was definitely one of them.
Hi Edith, this post makes me think how often it's best to stick to dreaming ... cheers, catmint
Dear Catmint, Thank you for your comment. What you say is very true, and experience has taught me just that, and not only about houses.
Oh this one really resonated with me. We nearly bought a beautiful old rectory on the Powys Shropshire border with a wall that leaked down through its three stories. We didn't come to our sense, we just lost the house. Instead we bought a 400 year old farmhouse with two acres, for its view really. I said weakly "But there isn't really a garden." Husband said "You can make one." I had not appreciated quite how tricky that would be, never having had this much land, never having gardened high up on such stony soil on land where everything slopes. I love it though. People think I am sensible, perhaps because I used to be an accountant before I chucked my job in, but I am not.
Dear Elizabeth M, Thank you so much for your comment and for becoming a 'Follower'. What you describe here, gardening around a 400 year old house on a mountainside, does not sound at all sensible to me but wonderfully spontaneous. Two acres, when it has to be attended to, requires a great deal of time and commitment but I am sure that you have great fun too. And so much more satisfaction, perhaps, than adding up figures for other people.
Dear Edith
I can see why you fell in love with this beautiful home and surroundings.......but I must admit that I admire people who buy old homes and remodel it or homes with falling plaster, peeling stucco and rotting floors and repair and remodel it! I like you would have fled! Being married to an architect and building contractor would rather build my dream home from scratch but when it is done everything is new and in working order... Believe me, I love old romantic homes and dream about them but I don't think I have the energy to repair them......
What a lovely post!
I never knew that Hungary had all these sun flower fields....I so wish there are more documentary programs on countries like Hungary....I would love to visit Hungary one day...it is one of the places I would love to visit!
Enjoy your week-end!
I :)
Dear Ingrid, Thank you so much for your comment. Peeling plaster I live with every day but water flowing freely down walls is, for me at least, a step too far! I agree with you, one must admire others who are prepared to face the challenge. But, dear Ingrid, building your house from scratch....that is truly the stuff of nightmares!!
Edith, I can so relate to this experience. It took 4 years of intensive house hunting to find my historic southern home. Meanwhile I 'fell in love' with several and emotionally moved in.
My husband still tells the story of me enraptured with the most beautiful staircase I had ever seen while he was trying to free his foot from the termite infested floorboards.
Dear Sandra, Thank you so much for your comment. Is it possible that women see things from a very different perspective from men? I know that I too would overlook the termites in favour of the staircase, but then that is the undoing! Your own house does, though, sound very lovely.
Dear Edith
How did I miss this enchanting post?
My dear departed Daddy was a surveyor for a somewhat more sedate firm than Frank , Knight and Rutley.
Such tales he told of his youth when he used to tour such properties and make reports.....
Gosh, the bliss of the place
the nightmare of actually living there...
Dear Elizabeth, Thank you for your generous comment. As you say, the bliss and the nightmare, both represented in one wonderful house. I give thanks each day that I did not make it mine but I dream about it still.
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