It will come as no surprise that the House & Garden team spends a fair bit of time daydreaming about beautiful buildings – and, specifically, imagining what it would be like to live in them. Of course, we regularly find ourselves mentally moving in to the homes featured in the pages of this magazine, but when we’re feeling particularly aspirational (and in need of escapism), we like to picture ourselves setting up home in a storied historic house somewhere in the world. This might be a famous writer’s retreat, a royal palace or a large country estate steeped in history. Yes, many of these are now galleries and museums and, no, they are not up for grabs, but this does not stop us dreaming. Some of us have even decided we would like not just one fantasty residence, but two, or even three. The only question that remains is, are you going to move in with one of us, or pick your own dream home?
Kettle’s Yard, Cambridge
I grew up (and my mum still lives) a short stroll away from Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge, and I used to visit quite often as a child in the 1980s. My memories are a bit blurry but I do remember a large crumpled white sofa that I would sit on when nobody was looking. There were pebbles I wanted to touch, a painting of a man in a nice jumper and a lovely cool brick floor. It was also very quiet and peaceful, and I wished – as my own house was full of a brother and lodgers – that my mum would forget and leave me there. – Eva Farrington, senior art editor
Nissim de Camondo, Paris
I’d move into the Nissim de Camondo house in Paris – it was built in the early 20th century and became a museum in 1936. It remains as it was when it was built, by Moise de Camondo and the architect René Sergent. Based on the Versailles Palace, it’s packed full of beautiful French textiles, colours and architectural details. The gardens back onto park Monceau – it’s spectacular! – Christabel Chubb, acting deputy digital editor
Cotehele, Cornwall
When it comes to choosing a dream home, one has to consider both the building itself and the location – and what could be better than a fortified manor house perched on a high bluff on the banks of a river? Architecturally, Cotehele – now in the care of the National Trust – is something of a hodgepodge of styles as its roots lie in the medieval period but it was predominantly rebuilt during Tudor times, which only adds to its rambling, atmospheric charm. I can see myself hosting some very fun dinner parties in the Great Hall – especially at Christmas, when a 60-foot garland made from thousands of flowers grown on the estate is suspended from the ceiling – and leading my guests on tours of the exquisite tapestries, beautiful antiques and eccentric artefacts that fill the rooms of the house (including a whale’s jawbones and a curious mechanical arm). And when I find myself in need of some peace and quiet, there are acres and acres of gardens and grounds to stroll through, a hidden chapel in the woods and the estate’s very own quay on the banks of the Tamar. – Rose Washbourn, digital writer
Palazzo Fortuny, Venice
Oh go on – I'll live in the Palazzo Fortuny if I absolutely have to. It’s now home to the Fortuny Museum, of course, but this Venetian Gothic masterpiece, dating back to the 16th century, retains some of its original rooms to show how Mariano Fortuny y Madrazo and his family lived from the early 20th century. The colours, the decoration and the acres and acres of silk – on the walls, at the windows, used in costume design which is also on display – all contrive to create a sumptuous, otherworldly interior. One of my current favourite rooms ever is the Winter Garden, with three walls covered in a hemp cloth painted mural with trompe l’oeil scenes of allegorical figures, exotic animals and plant motifs. It is perfectly executed high campery. What is not to like? – David Nicholls, former deputy editor
The Maharawal Palace, Rajasthan
There are so many achingly romantic houses around the world that I can semi-visualise myself living a parallel life in. The Maharawal Palace in Jaisalmer in Rajasthan is now a museum, but the elaborately pierced and engraved sandstone outer walls and balconies have a permanent place in my mind’s eye, and I dream of a secret life within them, able to see out when nobody can see me. – Fiona McKenzie Johnston, contributing editor
Charles Jencks’ Cosmic House, Holland Park, London
Though, ultimately, I’d get too hot living in the Indian desert, and I’m actually not terribly sociable and often prefer an early night with a book, so perhaps it had better be a larger house in London than the one we used to have, in the same area, so Charles Jencks’ Cosmic House on Landsdowne Walk, W11. Also, I’m genuinely a fan of post-modernism, and would hugely enjoy having a Piers Gough-designed Jacuzzi that is based on the upended Renaissance dome of Borromini (it’s never worked, but I’m sure that could be remedied), a cantilevered concrete spiral staircase with a black hole mosaic by Eduardo Paolozzi at the bottom, and sleeping in a bedroom that is designed around the subdivided square motif. I even love the decidedly kitsch kitchen, which has been criticised for putting form over function, but when you live in a city with such good Deliveroo options, why would that matter? – FMJ
Hanford, Dorset
But if I could truly choose anywhere at all, anywhere in the world, it would be Hanford, a Jacobean manor house in Dorset. It’s the extraordinarily beautiful – and happy – girls’ boarding school that I went to between the ages of seven and 12, and then lived in as a teenager when my parents started working there, and I know every loose floorboard, every chip on the shell-headed niches in the entrance passage, every sloped step and vase finial of the oak staircase. I know which the warmest rooms are in winter (in truth, not many of them would be thus described) and where to sit in the summer to feel the breeze coming off the box gardens. I can conjure up the paintings that hang in the garden hall, and feel the springs in the sagging sofa that used to be under a wisteria-surrounded window in the dining room. It was never mine, but it was my first great love – along with my pony, Rainbow, who lived there with me – and I’ve never entirely got over it. – FMJ
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The Monk’s House, Sussex
Because I’m both greedy and indecisive, I’m picking two houses. The first of my two is Monk’s House, the 16th-century cottage that once belonged to Virginia Woolf. Tucked away in rural Sussex, Virginia chose the house for the ‘fertility and wildness of the garden’; I’ve chosen it because of her. Monk’s House is not too grand, but it is perfectly formed, with a writing lodge in the garden where she wrote some of her most celebrated works. Just down the road from the house is Charleston, the beating heart of the Bloomsbury group, and the former home of Virginia’s sister. It’s certainly the more famous of the two houses, but something about Monk’s House just speaks to me in a way that certain spaces do. The palette of Monk’s House is mostly arsenic green, with splashes of rich red and blue. There are tiny nods to the Bloomsbury group – painted tiles around the fireplace, decorated panels – without it being overwhelming. Apologies if this makes me sound like a heathen, but I’d find it difficult to actually live in a house where every surface is so decorated. – Arabella Bowes, commerce editor
Keats’ House, Hampstead, London
The second house is also steeped in literary history, and arguably even more Romantic. It is the home of John Keats, who lived there for a few years before leaving for Rome in an unsuccessful attempt to cure his tuberculosis. Keats is one of my all time favourite poets, but even if he weren’t, I’d undoubtedly still be hankering after a Regency villa slap bang in the middle of Hampstead. – AB
Villa Necchi Campiglio, Milan
I know I am not the first person to say that I think I could lead an excellent life in Villa Necchi Campiglio, a city-centre Villa, built in 1930s Milan, which balances classical layouts with a modernist sensibility. For me, it shimmers with romance, while never feeling stuffed with stuff; the living feels modern, easy and convenient, and yet the materials and finishes are beautifully precious and antique. Maybe the most internet-famous room is the veranda, with large, brass-framed windows, heavily planted up from the outside; green, curved sofas and geometric marble floor. But what stays in my mind – beyond the rosewood lobby – is the layout of the first floor, where each of the original residents has their own apartment, with bathrooms that I adore. Each bathroom has its own style and materiality, but is laid out in the same way: one cubicle for showering and one for a loo, with a bathtub stretched between the two, opposite double sinks and a dressing table, all lined in mirror and marble. Even the housekeeper’s bathroom is understated but chic, with black, gloss tiles and a porthole mirror. The breezy gardens and swimming pool will help me lead this beautiful life, for sure, but in every room this house gives absolutely flawless living. One thing though: without staff, I just might need to move the kitchen up from the basement. – Ruth Sleightholme, former style director
2 Willow Road, Hampstead, London
If we’re fantasising, I’ll have a city pied-à-terre and a country house, thank you, and the former would be 2 Willow Road in Hampstead, the former home of the architect Ernő Goldfinger, who designed the terrace it sits in, and much of the furniture within it. Modernist houses are so beautifully designed for modern life (unsurprisingly), and I love the way light streams in and its the cleverly configured rooms (the main living area has a partition you can fold back for parties). With its huge windows, spacious rooms and uncluttered aesthetic, it is a wonderfully soothing place to be. Plus it has a fantastic art collection that includes works by Henry Moore, and it’s practically on Hampstead Heath. – Virginia Clark, digital director
Willy Lott’s House, Suffolk
Heading for the country, it would be the completely charming Willy Lott’s House at Flatford in the Dedham Vale. Immortalised in Constable’s painting The Haywain, the house was first built in the 16th century and extended in the 17th, and occupies a delightful situation next to the River Stour. The whole site is now run by the National Trust, so I’d have to remove the café and so on (sorry, general public!), but I’d be left with wonderfully secluded house from where I could walk up and down the river, perhaps go for a swim, and explore the Suffolk countryside. I don't think there’s much going on in the interior these days, but I'm not averse to a (fantasy) project. – VC
The Octagon Room of Orleans House, Twickenham, London
In contrast to my rather lavish colleagues, I'm choosing a single room to occupy: the Octagon Room of Orleans House. In all honesty, the reason I am only getting a single room in this fantasy is because the rest of the house sadly no longer exists, and it was only the baroque beauty of the Octagon Room that survived dereliction over the 20th century. Thank goodness, because it a thing of beauty and the unique shape makes the rather small – though very lofty – room seem endless. It's a grand room, that's for sure, and it was designed in the early 1700s to be a place where James Johnston, joint Secretary of State for Scotland, could entertain on a large scale and impress the royal court. It worked, but that's not what drew me to it. There are windows on five on the eight facets, a huge marble fireplace, gilding and the most perfect chequerboard floor, all of which work within the scale of the room to make it feel utterly, totally peaceful. It helps that it is set on the Thames and surrounded by trees, so everywhere you look, you see nature and feel removed from daily life. Now, however, it forms part of Orleans House Gallery and so is frequented either by those seeking culture or the very smart in-the-know people who marry in the opulent setting. I'd happily kick them out, put an antique futon in the middle of the room and keep it as my space to think. – Charlotte McCaughan-Hawes, deputy digital editor
