YOU’RE sprawled on the sofa, tea— brought by the butler—at hand. Nearby, the fire crackles deliciously. You are at peace, in beautifully designed surroundings. Except it’s not your house. You’ve rented it and, at the end of the week, you’re free to go home and not worry about the gas bill. Welcome to the super-rental.
The concept of renting a country house for the holidays isn’t new; in 1881, Empress Elisabeth of Austria rented Combermere Abbey from Viscount Combermere for £600 a month, but an increasing number of estate owners have discovered the charm—and returns—of the high-end let. These are no ordinary holiday cottages, rather ‘exclusive use rentals, with privacy at their heart.
For 15 years, the Clifford family’s Frampton Court in Gloucestershire had been run as a bed and breakfast. After the first lockdown, it was time for change and, now, Frampton is available from £3,100 for a minimum three-night stay, having been renovated by Peter and Charlotte Clifford, who ‘took it in turns to sand floorboards at 11pm’. Together, they have created a cinema room, a games room, and gutted the kitchen, in which the Aga has been replaced with a periwinkle-blue Everhot and the table ‘made by a gentleman in the village out of a beam from one of the estate farmhouses’. When furnishings were needed for the downstairs rooms, Mrs Clifford explored the attics, finding a gold pelmet that once hung in the dining room. This now adorns the cinema room, with blue velvet curtains that ‘drape over the screen so it looks like a theatre’. When new wallpaper was needed, Mrs Clifford went to Lewis & Wood. Happily, the house is now fully booked for the rest of the year.
Denne historien er fra July 21, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra July 21, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
Allerede abonnent? Logg på
Save our family farms
IT Tremains to be seen whether the Government will listen to the more than 20,000 farming people who thronged Whitehall in central London on November 19 to protest against changes to inheritance tax that could destroy countless family farms, but the impact of the good-hearted, sombre crowds was immediate and positive.
A very good dog
THE Spanish Pointer (1766–68) by Stubbs, a landmark painting in that it is the artist’s first depiction of a dog, has only been exhibited once in the 250 years since it was painted.
The great astral sneeze
Aurora Borealis, linked to celestial reindeer, firefoxes and assassinations, is one of Nature's most mesmerising, if fickle displays and has made headlines this year. Harry Pearson finds out why
'What a good boy am I'
We think of them as the stuff of childhood, but nursery rhymes such as Little Jack Horner tell tales of decidedly adult carryings-on, discovers Ian Morton
Forever a chorister
The music-and way of living-of the cabaret performer Kit Hesketh-Harvey was rooted in his upbringing as a cathedral chorister, as his sister, Sarah Sands, discovered after his death
Best of British
In this collection of short (5,000-6,000-word) pen portraits, writes the author, 'I wanted to present a number of \"Great British Commanders\" as individuals; not because I am a devotee of the \"great man, or woman, school of history\", but simply because the task is interesting.' It is, and so are Michael Clarke's choices.
Old habits die hard
Once an antique dealer, always an antique dealer, even well into retirement age, as a crop of interesting sales past and future proves
It takes the biscuit
Biscuit tins, with their whimsical shapes and delightful motifs, spark nostalgic memories of grandmother's sweet tea, but they are a remarkably recent invention. Matthew Dennison pays tribute to the ingenious Victorians who devised them
It's always darkest before the dawn
After witnessing a particularly lacklustre and insipid dawn on a leaden November day, John Lewis-Stempel takes solace in the fleeting appearance of a rare black fox and a kestrel in hot pursuit of a pipistrelle bat
Tarrying in the mulberry shade
On a visit to the Gainsborough Museum in Sudbury, Suffolk, in August, I lost my husband for half an hour and began to get nervous. Fortunately, an attendant had spotted him vanishing under the cloak of the old mulberry tree in the garden.
