This is the scene that awaited me when the car finally pulled through the gates of La Bamba de Areco Estancia.

It is the staff of the estancia, waiting to greet me.

Seriously, how cool is that?

Each and every one of the staff introduced themselves and shook my hand.

I felt like visiting royalty.

Before I go on, a word about the estancia.

es-tan-cia
[esˈtansja]

“Estancia” is a Spanish term describing a large rural estate with similarities to the English term “ranch.” An estancia, most typically located in the southern South American grasslands, the pampas, has historically always been a livestock estate.

The estancia’s ranch worker on horseback, the gaucho, is of similar importance to national folklore and identity to the cowboy in North America.

La Bamba is one of the oldest estancias in Argentina . . . originally built around 1830 just outside the town of San Antonio de Areco, it was one of the houses on the “Camino Real” (Royal Road) that linked Buenos Aires to the north of the country.

The name La Bamba, derived from the Celtic word, “Bahamba,” means “place of rest and hospitality.”

I’ll vouch for that.

La Bamba’s main building and guard tower (a look-out for native attacks) opened to the public in the 1980′s, and has recently been restored to its former glory.

I was there at the end of August, which is winter in Argentina, so it turned out that I was the ONLY GUEST.

Yup, I had the place to myself.

Emilia (in tan fleece, at the end of the receiving line in photo above) would be my host for the stay. First order of business: She led me to the office to check me in.

This place is a designer’s gold mine. My eyes were popping out of my head.

Even the smooth stones along the edge of the brick veranda were the epitome of “functional and beautiful.”

I have very little idea of what Emilia told me while we were inside the office, because there were so many enticing design details that I couldn’t concentrate.

The floor is made of blocks of wood. (It’s caldén wood, from the same trees in La Pampa.)

Under the window is a gorgeous antique wooden trunk with an equally gorgeous leather bag perched on top. (I spent a few minutes coveting the bag.)

A woven rattan pendant light hung from the ceiling above heavy wood shelving holding neat and tidy binders, with perfect vintage “props” on top. I couldn’t have styled it better myself.

Room keys, attached to wooden replicas of a San Antonio de Areco gaucho’s horse stirrups, are hanging on the wall in a handmade wooden box.

Then it was time for the tour . . . we walked back into the main building through a courtyard that was pretty even in the rain.

Inside the center hall, an immense ebony table, with carved pedestal, holds glossy art books and a bronze bull.

Hand-woven gaucho ponchos hang under the stairs. I love the graphic patterns of red and black and cream.

In the opposite corner, gaucho riding equipment hangs on hooks, including vintage stirrups that the guest room key rings were patterned after.

Through French doors, the spectacular sitting room occupies one half of the estancia, front to back. Period colonial armchairs and white linen slipcovered sofas make up comfortable seating, with the perfect balance of old and new tables and accessories. Brown and cream woven textiles, accented with touches of russet, on a flawless polished wood floor.

In a place of honor sits the 2009 gold cup won by the La Bamba de Areco polo team. The artwork above the mantle and on the walls are stylized paintings of polo players in motion by Alejandro Moy.

Relics of the estancia’s past fill shelves and sit on side tables.

Through another set of French doors with ornamental iron hinges, is the dining room.

A glossy-surfaced table stands in the center of the room under a magnificent iron chandelier.

On the wall at the end is a dramatic photograph of an elderly gaucho by Argentinian photographer, Aldo Sessa . . . stunning. 

The cocoa-colored leather chairs are embellished with decorative antiqued brass tacks.

The tour continues . . . Emilia has just informed me that an asada, a traditional Argentine barbecue, is being prepared for me.

We went out to see what was cooking on the parilla.

On the way there, I am presented with a tray of fresh, hot, flaky empanadas, filled with spicy beef, onions, and herbs. Did I mention feeling like royalty?

Speaking of which, see this feast on the grill? There’s beef (of course . . . it’s Argentina), chicken, pork, chorizo, and vegetables on the grill.

All for me.

(No I didn’t eat it all . . . Emilia, my hostess, and Guillermo, La Bamba’s general manager, joined me for lunch.)

The La Bamba “B” hangs on the wall above the parilla.

When its summer, and there’s a crowd, the asada is served right here.

While we wait for lunch, we head over to the Pulperia. Dating back to the 18th century, the building was formerly a stable and carriage house.

On the veranda of the pulperia are big comfy rattan chairs that would be great to curl up in with a book if it wasn’t cold and rainy.

No problem . . . inside, it’s a welcoming hang out place where deep, comfortable sofas on one end, and an enormous wood table in front of a fireplace on the the other, make you want to settle in and never leave.

Remnants of the gauchos are everywhere. On the wall above a couple of saddle stands is another stunning Aldo Sessa photograph, of a farm worker’s hands holding a mate gourd. (Mate, pronounced “mah – teh” is a traditional Argentine hot herbal drink.)

Awaiting me on the giant coffee table is this beautiful board of artfully arranged meat, cheese, olives, breadsticks, and fresh-baked rolls. (Save this photo for your next dinner party, because it’s really the perfect hors d’oeuvre platter.)

After my snack, I went to see my room, back in the main building, where the guest rooms are located across the courtyard from the dining room.

This one’s mine. Heaven.

Scalloped ebony headboards and tall, slender bed posts frame a mattress so high there’s a tiny stool to get into bed. On the beds are homespun linen pillow shams, crisp Egyptian cotton sheets, and cozy blanket-stitched wool blankets.

Tall shuttered windows, hung with silk draperies, look out to the countryside. Even on this rainy day, it’s an awe-inspiring view.

I love how the black and white photographs look hanging above the antique colonial furniture, like this campaign chest in my room.

Check out the gorgeous black and white tiled bathroom. Vintage polo photos hang above the tub.

I (naturally) took a peek into the room next to me . . . a grand four-poster bed with intricate carvings sits next to an antique armoire, on the same dark polished wood floors.

Time for the asada . . . back to the pulperia.

The table in front of the fireplace is set for three.

A basket of those delicious home-baked rolls and breadsticks sits alongside a row of small bowls of salsa, mustard, ketchup, and the traditional Argentine chimichurri sauce (finely chopped parsley or cilantro, minced garlic, olive oil, oregano, red vinegar, red pepper flakes, and lime juice) . . . condiments for the asada.

Glass bowls fitted into rattan baskets, with horn serving spoons, held arugula salad, tomato salad, and roast potatoes.

Potatoes and salad were served with chorizo and, another traditional Argentinian food, provoleta, grilled provolone cheese topped with herbs.

Then the meat was served, with tomatoes and grilled vegetables. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you it was delicious.

I was enjoying my food so much, that I didn’t notice Federico, the chef, preparing the dessert by the fireplace. When I was told to “get my camera ready” I was confused, but did as I was told.

Here’s why:

A crepe filled with dulce de leche and covered with sugar was literally branded with a hot iron, creating a burnt sugar crust. It was served with homemade vanilla ice-cream.

The most dramatic and delicious dessert I’ve ever had.

After lunch, I borrowed a pair of rain boots, and wandered around the grounds, serene and breathtaking even in the winter.

Along with the wind, the sounds of chimangos (a type of hawk) circling overhead, and cotorras (parakeets) in the trees, were the “soundtrack” for my walk.

I went back to the main building, and up into the guard tower.  Once used to watch out for danger, it is now a peaceful library.

Custom made braid replicating the pattern on a gaucho poncho, trims the linen draperies.

As if I haven’t eaten enough yet today . . . it’s tea time. Back to the pulperia, where homemade scones, and dishes of jam and dulce de leche await.

After tea, it was time to see the stables, and the polo horses that belong to La Bamba.

I’ll be honest, I’m not much of a horse person . . . but these horses, in this setting, were very photogenic. This is my favorite horse picture.

At this point, I took a cue from the dog and decided to hunker down and relax.

Several hours later it was, guess what, dinner time.  Wine was served in the sitting room, which was now lit with candles. 

The girl who was serving was dressed in traditional gaucho-girl garb.  How much do you love that belt?

The dining room table was set with pillar candles in a wooden tray down the center, rattan plate chargers, horn sauce bowls, linen napkins, and steak knives with woven lanyard handles.

The first course is bruschetta with a perfectly poached egg on top, drizzled with balsamic and olive oil.

For the main course, panchetta-wrapped filet mignon was served with potatoes and chimichurri. 

Yes, my stomach is apparently a bottomless pit. 

No, I’ll never eat again.

If you thought the day couldn’t be topped, wait for it.

I had mentioned to Emilia during tea time (about 5:00 p.m.) that I’d had, and loved, dulce de leche ice cream in Buenos Aires.

Dessert was served.

Federico had made me dulce de leche ice cream.

With bits of chocolate, and presented in a spun sugar nest.

A lovely end to one spectacular day at La Bamba de Areco.

But that’s not the end of the story.

This is what I awoke to the next morning.

Before I left, I had the pleasure of seeing this glorious place in the light of a spectacular sunrise.

Fresh-baked croissants for breakfast, one last look, and I reluctantly said goodbye.

La Bamba de Areco.  Unforgettable.

La Bamba de Areco Estancia
San Antonio de Areco
Argentina
www.labambadeareco.com

“We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure. There is no end to the adventures we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open.”

Jawaharial Nehru (1889-1964) First prime minister of independent India

At the foot of a great mystical rock where sages have meditated, in the heart of a colorful Rajasthan village, sits Rawla Narlai, the 17th century villa used as a hunting lodge by the Maharaja of Jodhpur.  It’s now a charming boutique hotel, with cozy rooms opening onto a courtyard surrounded by cascading bougainvillea.

The Rawla Narlai sits within the ancient Aravalli Hills mountain range, said to be the oldest mountains on the planet.  The Rawla (which means villa) is a tranquil haven midway between the cities of Jodhpur and Udaipur.

Walk through a massive stone arch into a courtyard bordered with a restaurant and a small Hindu temple, and a view of that auspicious granite rock.

Groups of rattan chairs sit on the white gravel and provide a peaceful place to congregate with friends, and make new ones.  (I met a wonderful British couple here, traveling thoughout Rajasthan on their own, and ran into them again at the Jain temples of Ranakpur after we’d all left Narlai.)

Through another stone arch is the inner courtyard, and the guest rooms. 

Before I get to the guest rooms, I have to stop and tell you how divine it was to recline, and be served tea, on these day beds under the fuchsia bougainvillea…heaven.

Each distinct guest room is the perfect combination of historical and contemporary.  Modern conveniences blend seamlessly with relics of the past. 

Bedding and curtains are the lovely hand-blocked cottons of Brigitte Singh, an esteemed French designer who moved to India twenty years ago and runs a workshop in Jaipur.

Rooms open onto inner cloisters, and curtained verandas, furnished with antiques and family photographs that are a reminder of the Maharaja’s presence. 

Through French doors, the airy restaurant serves delicious Indian and continental food, on gray marble tables topped with Chilewich place mats…another example of how old and new merge harmoniously here. 

In the early morning, monkeys made a surprise appearance, leaping across the rooftops, and snacking on leaves and flowers.

The beautiful pool is enticing even at sunset. 

It’s tempting to just sit and relax on daybeds in the calm oasis of Rawla Narlai’s courtyards…but there’s a colorful village to explore, and horses to ride.

One of the most memorable events of my stay here was an early morning hike up the 750 steps to the top of the sacred rock.  Along the way are temples, both rustic and formal, and at the top a massive stone elephant stands watch over the village.

Looking out over the hills from the vantage point of that celebrated rock, I began to grasp its spiritual significance, and why the Maharaja chose to spend his leisure time in the enchanting villa below.

It is truly a magical place.

http://www.rawlanarlai.com

“Good design is a manifestation of the capacity of the human spirit to transcend its limitations.”

George Nelson (1908-1986) American industrial designer

For the next couple of months, I’m going to feature some of my favorite hotels.  Some I’ve posted before, some are new – all are unique, a few are unusual, several historical, and each one, naturally, an example of design perfection. 

The first of the series is Hotel Palacio de Villapanés in Seville, Spain.  Originally built as a private mansion for the Marques of Villapanés in the 18th century, it is now a luxury hotel.

A set of rose-colored marble steps lead to the stunning arched entrance, with a surround of elaborately filigreed ironwork.

The street is quiet, and unassuming, so it’s a surprise to find such a grandiose entrance.

The palace is built around a light-filled, marble-floored, balconied courtyard.

A grand staircase leads up to the balcony level.

Throughout the building, traditional historical elements are presented in a contemporary manner – like these lighted plexiglass panels resembling decorative tile.

Even the room numbers are silk-screened with a typical tile pattern.

The pattern of this wood parquet floor also resembles the famous tile patterns.

Actual Spanish azulejos cover a wall behind a contemporary leather chair.

An original mosaic stone altar is the focal point for this enclosed terrace.

The guest rooms are beautifully designed to fit in with the setting, but have a contemporary edge that I love.

My room was reached by walking through another interior courtyard, filled with fragrant orange trees…

…and this is my glorious, early morning view. 

I loved Sevilla – the flamenco shows, the azulejos, the flea market, the people – and Hotel Palacio de Villapanés. 

Magnífico!

Alma Sevilla Hotel Palacio de Villepanés
Santiago, 31
41003 Sevilla
Spain
www.almasevilla.com

I was in the Madrid design studio of Spain’s doyenne d’intérieurs, Isabel López-Quesada, when I spotted the little bronze sculpture on her desk. 

I was obsessed. 

“Where is it from?” I asked.

Next stop, sculptor José G. Onieva. 

I hopped into a cab and gave the driver the address. 

Here we are.

I was confused.  The address led us to a closed gate on a residential street.  No sign of a gallery, or shop, or studio.  I had the driver wait while I phoned back to verify the address.

It was, indeed, the correct address.  I rang the bell, and walked through a small garden and up a set of steep steps to a pale blue door.  The figure of a frog perched atop a bronze doorknob.

Through a curtained door, in a cozy room filled with antique cupboards and a zebra print sofa, was José Onieva’s wonderful world of whimsical sculptures.

Onieva was born in Madrid and studied as an architect before immersing himself in art and sculpture in Italy.  When he returned to Madrid, he opened his own studio and established himself as a sculptor. 

For the past thirty years, he has produced bronze and steel sculptures of all shapes and sizes, including installations for public areas, architectural projects, and gardens.  Recently, his work was on exhibition at Madrid’s famous Parque del Retiro.

He wasn’t there the day I showed up unexpectedly, but I spoke with his wife, Mariana, and admired (okay, coveted) the gorgeous necklace he had made for her as a birthday gift.

I knew I wanted the small sculpture that I had seen at the design studio earlier, but as I scanned the room looking for it, I became captivated by everything.

There were trees, enameled with cobalt blue leaves.

A bronze rose doorknob led to a garden in which a metal palm tree sat amongst real ones.

Look closely at the top of the palm tree and you’ll see the figure of a sunbather, resting on a chair under a leafy umbrella.

Curved arms with shapes on their ends balance precariously on narrow posts.

My favorites were the ordinary objects cast in bronze.  Boxes tied with string, a crushed cigarette packet, a crumbled ball of paper, a paper hat, a wrapped candy.  How extraordinary that something so commonplace can become a work of art.

And there it was – the pajarita.  Origami cast in bronze. 

In Spain, the term “pajarita” means “little bird,” but also refers to the art of paper folding.  There’s even an organization dedicated to it.

www.pajarita.org

Even after finding the object I had interrupted my day to come looking for, I was tempted by the abundance of charming sculptures around me. 

I took one more look around, and then circled back to my precious pajarita. 

It’s home with me now, in a place where I can pick it up, feel its weight, and wonder at the cleverness of crafting an object in a material so vastly different from it’s original paper form.

It’s one of my most treasured objects.

www.escultoronieva.com

See my guest post about Portobello Road market on Shabby Apple‘s blog.

blog.shabbyapple.com

“We travel to seek other states, other lives, other souls.”

Anais Nin (1903-1977) French-born American author

Yes, it’s the same palace I snuck into – but I had only been able to see the gardens at that time.  The next day I went back to the Royal Alcázar of Seville to see the glorious arched, tiled, filigreed, crenulated, vibrantly colorful interior.

I am putting this post in Eye on Design, because this astounding palace is representative of multiple design styles. 

“The historical evolution of the city in the last millennium is held within its walls and gardens, amalgamating influences starting from the Arabic period, late Middle Ages Mudéjar right through to the Renaissance, Baroque and the XIX century.”
-www.alcazarsevilla.org

I admired Seville’s trademark radiant glazed azulejos. 

The geometric ironwork on windows and doors reflect the patterns of the tiles.

My favorite feature of all, though, was the spectacular Moorish arches…

…and the dramatic shadows they cast on the tiled walls.

I was so captivated that I walked around the palace three times before leaving through the cobblestoned passage.

Well worth the price of admission…and worth going in through the entrance.

www.alcazarsevilla.org

“Yet all experience is an arch where through
Gleams that untraveled world whose margin fades
Forever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As though to breathe were life!”

Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) British poet