Cottagers Bottom with Chickens, Bovina


kuća za stanovanje (cijeli prostor); domaćin je Julian

4 gosta, 3 spavaće sobe, 3 kreveta, 1 kupaonica
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Cottager's Bottom: an eccentric 3-bedroom cottage in the village of Bovina, with land rolling down to a private stream, views across fields, 6 chickens, their eggs, and a rooster. Restored with appropriate peculiarity, retaining the vernacular of what was once a tannery, a telephone operator's house and now, family home. It's an original. Private, yet steps from the village store and the sleepy life of this Catskills village. Cook, eat, gather, watch movies and, for a moment, live here.

Built in the 1850's, Cottager's Bottom was cobbled together from two little houses that met in the village and decided to spend the rest of their lives with each other. Being stuck together, their layout and character owe little to the traditional village home. Rooms turn up where they're not expected, combine, stumble into one another. It's a little maze of doors and corridors, with its own whimsical narrative; a paean to living creatively.

The heart of the house is a vaulted room consisting of a rustic, open-plan kitchen which rolls down an accidental slope into a cosy living room with a massive couch, wood-burning stove, heaps of books, 1970's turntable, amp and speakers. An iPhone plays just fine over the wireless Apple TV network, but we hope you'll lose heart trying and put on a record instead. We have records. And in lieu of television, there's a wall-sized screen that deploys in front of the window when needed, turning the room into a fireside movie theatre. Use our Criterion Collection, Mubi, Netflix and Hulu accounts or any other account you have on that there telephone gadget of yours.

The front door opens directly into the kitchen, which has the semblance of a workshop. Counters are iron-edged bowling-alley lanes.Shelves are from a decommissioned factory in New Jersey. The sink was stolen from Kai and John. The kitchen table has been with us for 20 years and is etched with the names of friends and a few strangers. The stove is a 4 burner Viking, the fridge a SMEG from Italy. The floors are wood and frequently not perpendicular to the floor. Drop anything spherical and you'll find it a few minutes later in the southwest corner of the living room. There are no cupboards, just shelves; everything is visible, to hand, ready to be used. By you as well as us. Which is emblematic of the experience of staying here. It's a home, not a hotel or sterile holiday rental. We move out, you move in. Everything that was ours is now yours. And vice-versa at the end. Shelves and mason jars are full of supplies, spices, condiments. The stuff you'd expect to find in your own kitchen is here too. There are copper saucepans, steel frying pans, iron skillets, dutch ovens and every tool and implement you'd expect in a well-used kitchen. Appliances include a stand-mixer, food processor, Vitamix, rice-cooker, toaster, stovetop espresso makers, Italian ice-cream maker, donabe, coffee grinder. Plates, bowls, cups, glasses, flatware have been gathered along the way and woven into their own storyline. We leave coffee and Yorkshire teabags from England, (as well as WWII teapots to brew them in). We'll also have local milk and eggs waiting for you. If you're looking for a lifeless rental with six IKEA bowls and a plastic corkscrew, this isn't it.

High-speed Fios wireless internet throughout. Movies stream instantly.

The kitchen has a door onto an unheated three-season interior porch, fashioned from old planks, salvaged stained-glass windows, mirrors and clown paintings. It's the perfect room for reading or composing your screenplay about glassy-eyed people from the city who move to the country and whose lives fall to pieces. Pass through a door taken from a catholic girl's school in Elmira onto the open deck, which feels vaguely like the prow of a ship overlooking Bovina's vaunted fields and hills. Sip coffee at the beer-garden table or scrape off the ceramic grill and start BBQ-ing stuff from local farms. Wander down the hill to the stream and fields. There's loads of mint in the stream for lamb or mojitos (or lamb mojitos) and a picnic table by the water which threatens every year to be swept away by the floods, but was there last time we looked. Dangle your feet in the water, gaze across open fields past cows to the barns and roofs of the old creamery.

The gable-end wall of the kitchen constitutes the end of one little house and the beginning of another. The attached building is a full floor higher. At ground-level there is an open office/library, old windows facing north and east. An steel workbench serves as a desk, there's an IBM electric typewriter and Apple display (which you're welcome to plug your laptop into), a wall of books, old, new, rare, odd and a wall-length collage culled from Joe Orton and Kenneth Halliwell before the catastrophe. This room has its own front door to the path and adjoins:

Dusty's bedroom - cosy, like a ship's cabin, with elevated double bed, cubbies and it's own little built-in desk area looking down the fields to the stream.

In all cases mattresses are great, bedding and towels from Muji are, of course, provided. Each bedroom has an additional portable electric heater for flatlanders who run chilly in the morning.

The library adjoins the bathroom (proudly the only one in the house) with antique claw-foot tub and shower, an old pedestal sink and heated Toto 'washlet' toilet - a unique sensory undercarriage experience. There's plenty of towels, a hairdryer, and a window that looks south to the hills. There's also soap, shampoo, toilet paper, naturally.

Between the kitchen and library, narrow, steep stairs take you up to two bedrooms:

Winnie's bedroom is open-plan, with a full-size old iron bed. Pass through this to:

The big bedroom with views to the south, the stream, fields, hills and beyond. The sound of running water at night (and birdsong in the morning) are abiding characteristics of sleeping in this room. Starlings are determined nesters above the windows, so no, that scratching is not a Victorian child trapped in the attic. The room has a king-size bed with redwood plank headboard, zinc shelves and cupboard. it also also has its own free-standing clawfoot tub, for languid bathing privacy and a rustic frisson of romance. The tub, full of hot water, goes well with a spritz Campari.

The basement is rough and unfinished, but has a washer and dryer which are yours to use.

Beyond the basement is our built in chicken coop containing 7 chickens and a rooster with their own small collection of books and records. Yes, you're living in a Breughel painting. It'll be up to feed, water and handle them, as well as let them out in the morning, put them to sleep at night (if you like). Their eggs are yours to collect, eat, take home.

There's dry, seasoned firewood stacked in front of the house for use in the wood stove. And off-road parking for 3 cars, as well as an old wooden garage which we use for storage.

The village of Bovina preens itself on being the destination of choice in the northwestern Catskills. It's a pretty, tiny, no-stoplight hamlet. The only businesses are the village store, Russell's (which we have to point out, is pretty great) and Brushland Eating House, with a locally sourced dinner menu, wine and beer. Bothare a quiet, relaxing meander down Main Street. Bovina has trails, streams, hills, a tiny library, a museum that opens once a year or not at all, and a playground. And that's it.

This is spectacular biking country. Whatever you're looking for, it's here. Undulating, quiet roads with good climbs. Dirt roads into the hills. Old, rough fire trails for the truly manly. There's a great indoor swimming pool and gym over Bovina Mountain in Arkville, open all day every day.

But eating, farmstanding, antiquing aside, the main reason to stay here is to kick back, hang out, cook, belong, wander down to the stream and treat the house as your home. We're not encouraging you to wander or to go out at all, actually. Once you've gathered vegetables and speared a bison, we suggest you don't get in your car again until you leave. Instead, stay home the entire time and listen to Serge Gainsbourg, flipping the record every 24 minutes whilst slow-braising local pork shoulder and perfecting your absinthe-tinged Manhattan. With a trunkful of groceries, wine and beer, there's not a lot of reasons to roam.

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Bovina Center, New York, Sjedinjene Američke Države

Domaćin je Julian

Član od veljača 2012.
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Ancient Greek man, withered crone with penis and breasts, doomed for a certain term to walk the Catskills until the foul crimes done in his days of nature are burnt and purged away. 2 daughters - 22 and 15.

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