The House on the Hill

Of all of the houses I had seen online, there was one in Slovenia that seemed to be very promising. Running Man (RM) had actually visited the house with the real estate agent to see if it looked as good in reality as it appeared on my computer screen. The house was in Dolena Trebusa (dough-laynuh tray-boo-shuh) and it was in the process of being "renewed." That's the term used here when you basically take the house down to the stone walls and rebuild it from there. RM reported that while not everything looked quite as great as it seemed, the house had potential and was certainly worth seeing.

I had communicated with the agent via email and he'd gladly sent me more photos than those already posted on the site. I spent hours examining those photos, enlarging them to see small details. By the time I left the States, I had the house memorized. On my second day in Europe, I saw Trebusa, as we called it, up close and personal. We drove to the house, winding our way along a main road to a much higher elevation. RM told me to be ready and then, I spied it, towering above the road, looking just as it had in the photo. The driveway was angled in such a way that we had to drive past it, find a spot along the road to turn around, then hit the driveway going in the other direction. Not a great feature for a house or a B&B but we could work on that. 

Trebusa came with approximately 16 acres of land, including a tiny strip along the little river that ran on the opposite side of the road. Since the road dropped straight down 20 feet to the river, that wasn't much of a selling feature but you could say you owned a riverfront property. I had been intrigued by the amount of land that came with the property. But seeing it for myself, I knew the owner was just throwing it in for good measure. The house was built into the side of the wooded mountain and the land was so steep I had little hope for even a decent garden spot. But goats would thrive there. Cheese, anyone?

The farmhouse architecture was heavily influenced by the Austrians.You saw four floors from the front of the house, but by the time you reached the back, the only thing you could see was a flight of concrete stairs and a double set of doors leading into the attic. Near the house was a lovely but decrepit Slovenian hayrack. I would rebuild it with its sweeping views of forest and in it, put the outdoor kitchen and dining room. Well, that part of the property was perfect.

We started our tour inside the house through the attic. It was large and open with a skylight. The roof was brand new as were the stucco finish on the outside, the windows and walkways and the interior finishes. The attic would be where I would have to put my living space -- library/office, bedroom and bathroom. The extreme slope of the roof on both of the long sides of the room would make that challenging but, once again, doable.

A flight of alpine stairs -- two pine trees angled down to the lower floor with open steps that were wider on one side than the other, forcing you to place your feet in the correct alteration of left to right to move up or down them -- led down to the next floor. Here were three bedrooms and two bathrooms. That's right. Two bathrooms. In fact, this house had two full baths and one half bath and that was another reason I had taken such an interest in it. The master suite featured a spacious room with windows on two sides with great views, and a large en suite bathroom. At the bottom of the stairs was another good-sized full bath that would have to serve the other two bedrooms. Those, however, were tiny. It would be tough to fit a queen-size bed in the room with anything else but, yep, again, doable.

The stairs to the lower floor were enclosed and tiled. Two steps down took you to a landing and a door that led out to the upper terrace. It was tiled but not yet surrounded by anything to keep you from tumbling below. The wooded views were breathtaking and the air was fresh and clean. Back inside, you walked down to another landing. To the right was a small space for the laundry. To the left was the dining room. It was beautifully tiled with two glass doors that led out to the lower terrace, also tiled but unfinished. Off the dining room was the entry foyer and a tiny room. I had thought this was the unfinished kitchen but it was the size of a walk-in pantry.

"No, no," the agent said. "Here's the kitchenette." He pointed to the bare wall that ran perpendicular to the stairs. Leaving enough room to dismount the stairs and enter the room would allow enough space for a very small refrigerator, tiny stove and small single sink. That's it. I immediately started investigating the wall that separated the area from the little pantry. In my amateur estimation, that wall could come out and at least I could fit in a little storage and counter space. Little, very little.

Also off the dining room was a vestibule -- pretty much wasted square footage -- from which you entered the water closet as well as the day room (or half-bath and family room in our vernacular). The former was tiled and had new fixtures. The day room was open and bright with pine floors, ceilings and beams, and windows along two sides. I could see my guests here, enjoying the view, sipping a glass of wine, laughing about the day's events and commenting on the wonderful smells coming from my kitchen. Er, kitchenette.

I liked what I saw but would have to make some changes to accommodate a B&B. I had to admit that after seeing the ancient farmhouse the day before, Trebusa was a breath of fresh air in its state of remodel. It had a central heating system and two cisterns to collect water which, I was told, wouldn't be a problem at this altitude and hillside position. But there was a trade-off. While the forested views of Trebusa were gorgeous I longed for the vineyard views I had seen in Kojsko.
 
As we drove away, I started tearing down walls and building others in my mind. I could enclose the terrace off the dining room and some of the upper terrace to create a new dining room and stairs up to the guestrooms. That would leave me with the existing dining room and pantry for my kitchen and a set of "back stairs" I could use to access the laundry and the guestrooms.

I also decided the alpine stairs from the attic would need to be replaced with folding stairs that could hide away in the ceiling of that floor and under a strategically placed rug in the attic. I would just have to use the outside steps and enter the rest of the house through the front door when I had guests. But removing the stairs would give me privacy above and a little more open space below between the guestrooms.

My mind was filled with details, pictures, questions, answers, possibilities and more questions. I could make it work, but I would have to negotiate a lower purchase price and that would be tough. As someone who has built a house, I knew the owner had put more money into the renewal than the house was really worth. There was much left to finish of his remodel. Throw in all of the changes I would need to make to serve for a B&B and I was way over budget.

I really wanted this house, but I had more houses to see. Even more, I had Slovenia to see. I had to be patient and allow the fate that had somehow brought me here continue to move me. Surely, I would know the place when I saw it. I just had to be patient.