Gallery and guest reviews
Do you remember those holidays that seemed to last forever?
Blue skies, winding lanes, cattle inquisitive at the field gate… cake for tea, log fires, and rolling the dice in a game of Cluedo. A walk in the rain. Swimming in the sea. Tearing about on the beach.
You found pine cones, interesting stones, fossils, and brought them home. There were grasshoppers to try and catch, and someone showed you how to make a blade of grass squeal between your cupped hands.
Perhaps there was croquet — with everyone cheating, just a little. Or tennis, if you could muster a doubles game. Something cooking gently for supper in the Aga; fresh eggs for breakfast from the farm up the road. A game of Consequences, certainly. And always a good book — on the stairs, or curled into a sofa by the fire.
You might call it nostalgia. But a part of you knows better.
At Rushay, we have set out to create a house where those holidays can still happen.
Of course, there are differences. Superfast WiFi runs throughout the house — as essential now as water or heat. There is a television, with all the usual services, though not in the sitting room. The Aga, purring like a contented cat, is joined by an induction hob and electric ovens (two, in fact — the cottage kitchen has its own). There are en suite showers, an American-style fridge freezer, fluffy towels, DAB radios.
But the emphasis is elsewhere: on letting days and nights unspool at their own pace. Letting grown-ups unwind. Letting children roam, invent, and discover the simple freedoms of a country house and garden.
Dorset is that kind of place — the only county in England without a motorway. There is space here for adventure: the sweep of Chesil Beach, hill forts, second-hand bookshops, the Cobb at Lyme Regis, excellent food, lively markets in Bridport.
Unwind your way.
Guests love Rushay’s well-equipped kitchens — though we can also recommend someone to prepare a celebratory meal, if you prefer.
By the kitchen, there is one long table where everyone can gather. Bookcases are crammed with everything from Dickens (and Enid Blyton) to thrillers and biographies, with more by every bedside. A cupboard holds board games, jigsaws, and cards for rainy afternoons.
And outside, when the weather holds — as it often does — there is a hard tennis court (racquets and balls provided), an Argentinian asado barbecue, and a west-facing terrace for long meals as the sun slips behind the hills.
Charmouth beach lies just a mile away, reached on foot across the fields — a shoreline known the world over for its Jurassic fossils. Closer to home, paths are mown through the grass between the trees.
Dogs are welcome. Fires can be lit. Logs are provided. Kindling can be gathered.
And as time slows, something else happens too.
You begin to gather memories.
