Room 305

Cliff and I have just returned from an amazing two weeks in Italy. We began in Venice where we took a cooking class in a professional chef's apartment, joined the Backroads gang for an exceptional e-biking trip through the lush valleys and meandering rivers of the Dolomites, and finally finished in Lake Como at a stunning hotel on the water's edge, complete with a sweet balcony that overlooked the sparkling glacier-fed lake below.

​All in all, it was a fantastic vacation . . . with the exception of one glaring misstep at Castel Fragsburg in the charming town of Meran on the first night of our bicycling journey.​

Defined as a "5-star luxury hotel," room 305 failed to meet the description.

"When you get off the the elevator on the third floor," Cliff's text message read, "you'll find rooms 301, 302, 303, & 304. Climb the steep stairs to the right; I'm in the attic."

And so he was.

Instead of the stately rooms the rest of the group had been assigned, Cliff and I found ourselves in a dark and tiny split-level garret on three floors. The first space (6'x8') was barely large enough for a love seat and our two suitcases. The stair's landing housed a claw-footed tub with a plastic shower curtain (NO privacy!). And the third contained a shabby queen-sized bed tightly tucked under the attic's head-bumping eaves.

It was odd, to say the least, and very out of character for Backroads, but it was also completely disappointing after a full day of exercise. In other words, not exactly the accommodations we'd been promised in the brochure OR in the published itinerary.

"I'm sorry," I said to the receptionist, before heading down to the pool, "We're going to need to be moved tomorrow if possible. That room simply isn't going to work for our aging knees . . . "

"I can move you today," she kindly responded, acknowledging that the room was "particular." (You think?) "We have one other room available; would you like me to send up the bellhop?"

YES, PLEASE!

At which point I raced back to the attic and instructed Cliff to pack his bags.

Here's the thing, tiny rooms are NEVER a good idea, even if they're wrapped in the guise of "particular" or "quaint."

Too often, Sarah and I visit homes where expensive renovations have left the original walls in place, back to a time when kitchens were intentionally smaller and purposely meant to be tucked away. Given that today's modern family prefers a far more open floor plan (preferably with an attached family room) before you spend tens-of-thousands to remodel a too-small kitchen, consider expanding the space by capturing the breakfast room, maid's room, or butler's pantry. Additionally, incorporating the infrequently used formal dining room can offer tremendous opportunities to open up the house and make it exponentially more functional. In other words, think BIG, even if the house is small. In fact, especially if the house is SMALL. (Smaller homes that live large are in much higher demand than large homes that live small.) 

With kitchens now serving as the most utilized space in the home, as well as the gathering spot for all things "family," they are also the most important selling feature come time to sell. (Primary bathrooms come in second.)

"But what if this is a load-bearing wall?" clients ask with deep concern.

It probably is, but even so, a good architect, engineer, or contractor can usually redirect the load with headers and beams. (All things are possible within reason.) Don't let the unknown dissuade you from expanding the kitchen to make the space both more accommodating and inviting.

In a community where the vast majority of homes are more than 100 years old, and families no longer have live-in maids (or butlers), AND where digital lifestyles have replaced formal ones, our homes inevitably need to evolve to meet today's more demanding needs and standards.

Because, unless you're visiting a historic castle in Europe, there's no reason to stay cemented to the architectural past.

How can we help you?

PS- This was our 7th trip with Backroads and each has been prettier than the last. We're already planning our 8th so all kidding aside, I highly recommend Backroads which caters to empty-nesters (like us), as well as young adults and growing families. They're a terrific organization that has its roots right here in Berkeley.