DURSLADE FARMHOUSE, BRUTON
New York, Hong Kong… Somerset? It’s not exactly the destination lineup you expect, but within minutes of arriving in Bruton I realise I need to expect the unexpected here. We’re staying in an 18th-century listed farmhouse that’s part of the portfolio of international art giants Hauser & Wirth, sharing its farm location with a thoroughly modern gallery – currently playing host to three artists in residence – as well as a sculpture garden, immaculately landscaped perpetual meadow, and a space-age pavilion that once graced the Serpentine Gallery.
We arrive late, hot and bothered, so it’s gratifying to find a delicious dinner waiting in the fridge – Moroccan lamb stew, couscous and fresh salad – courtesy of the on-site restaurant the Roth Bar & Grill, which caters to both gallery visitors and farmhouse guests. There’s nothing for us to do but pour a glass of wine, gaze at the hypnotic chandelier-esque video installation in the living room and listen to the almost deafening peace of the countryside.
The farmhouse itself is unlike anywhere I’ve stayed before. Outside, it’s completely innocuous, but inside no two rooms are even vaguely the same, from the comfortingly traditional farmhouse kitchen to the spacious and hectically muralled dining room
– and that’s before we’ve even got to the six unique bedrooms and bathrooms that make this house an ideal retreat for large groups. The airy master bedroom, complete with antique mahogany bed and grand stone fireplace, was tempting, but we opt for the Paul Mccarthy bedroom, which offers sunny views of the grassy courtyard beneath, a startlingly all-blue en suite, and the most entertainingly risqué wallpaper.
Courtesy of the farm, fresh eggs, home-made bread and jam await us in the morning. There’s also the art gallery to explore, as well as the rolling countryside around us. The cows seem to roam so freely I seriously regret not packing wellies instead of walking boots, but who cares? It’s so peaceful I can hear every insect buzz, and the mobile signal is almost nonexistent, so there’s not much to do but revel in the juxtaposition of the rural location and the modern art. Which, now I think about it, might just be what the owners had in mind all along. EMMA FRANKLIN