March 29, 2009 |
Sheep dot green hills. Pheasants hop across country lanes. Quaint cottages sit next to a tiny stone church. Neighbors who've known each other since birth greet strangers warmly. And for about $32 million, this leafy, nostalgic slice of England could be yours. The village of Linkenholt's 21 cottages, grand manor house, lush green cricket pitch and accompanying pavilion are part of an estate that also encompasses 1,500 acres of farmland and an additional 425 acres of woods. The entire estate is for sale -- as a whole -- with the only part not on the block being St. Peter's, built on the site of a 12th century church.
August 2, 1987
My wife and I can attest to Michele and Tom Grimm's glowing description of the new Four Seasons Biltmore (July 19, Trip of the Week to Montecito). Our anniversary dinner in the La Marina dining room last week, celebrating a honeymoon at the Santa Barbara Biltmore 20 years ago, was first-rate. Yet we regret that the article failed to mention another of Montecito's historic resort hotels, Miramar-by-the-Sea. Under the bright blue roofs, so visible to and well-known by regular U.S. 101 travelers through Santa Barbara, lies a resort that is every bit as enjoyable as the others described in the article.
November 1, 1987 |
"The view from my front door is so lovely," a woman here told me, "I don't have to go to the films." I had an image of what I wanted--a small village on Ireland's west coast where I could spend a few days, a village picturesque but not overrun with tourists, a village full of character and characters. Furthermore, because I knew I would be tired by the time I landed at Shannon Airport, I wanted a destination I could reach easily within an hour or so by rental car.
CALIFORNIA | LOCAL
September 11, 1994 |
Frank Brace and his sons had ventured into the woods for day hikes before, but nothing in the youngsters' backwoods experience prepared them for the moment their father dropped dead on a rugged mountain miles from civilization. Unable to read their map--and having no compass--the boys scrambled five miles over rock-strewn slopes and across meadows, relying on landmarks and their sense of direction to find their way back to some cottages they had seen when they hiked in two days before.
October 27, 1985 |
My hometown was a serious city, sadly bereft of architectural folly. For most of the year its traditional facades and graceful streets were a source of civic pride, but the end of October always rendered its aesthetic conventions curiously deficient. At the time, my childhood Halloweens seemed entirely adequate; I completed a satisfactory tenure as trick-or-treater, masquerading alternately as Gypsy, princess, pirate, witch and vampire.
December 18, 1985 |
Several years ago I was telling Mrs. Fontaine, who lived in the bungalow next door, what I had heard about a house up the street, that its original cobblestone chimney had been replaced by a brick one. "Who told you that?" she demanded. "Mr. Wright over on Arbor." She laughed in scorn. "Why he's a newcomer." "He is? I thought he'd lived here a long time." "Heavens no. Only been here 25 years."
May 3, 1987 |
There's one thing better than being a tourist in Britain and that is being a guest, to be treated as a friend while gaining an insight into how your hosts live and spend their leisure hours. Friends in London, for instance, is just what the name implies. A group of well-organized people under the direction of Mary Bailey will take over all of your vacation planning from the moment you arrive--or before you leave home.
December 13, 2002 |
What I remember most about the place isn't the neatly aligned wood-and-brick cottages or the well-tended gardens, or even the colorful mosaic tiles that gleamed in the autumn sunlight. What I remember most are the eyes of the children that reflected needs beyond one's ability to measure.
CALIFORNIA | LOCAL
November 9, 2009 |
The lake is deserted, and the forest is quiet at the far end of Huntington Lodge Road. A breeze combs through the pines and the firs. It strips a ready leaf or two from the willows that grow by the water. Fall has come to the Sierra Nevada, this third weekend in October, and the cabins on the cul-de-sac are vacant. Most are boarded up for winter, cenotaphs to a time just weeks ago when they were open and alive to the coming and going of vacationing families. Summer is a short season in the mountains -- over, some say, before it begins -- and for the owners of these cabins, a small resort known as Lakeview Cottages, the clock is running down.