Property Of The Week: 6 Desaumarez St, Kensington Park, SA
An inviting character home heads to auction.
An inviting character home heads to auction.
Located on the quiet, English Oak tree-lined Desaumarez street in the eastern suburbs hot spot of Adelaide’s Kensington Park is this warm, character residence reborn.
Built circa 1926, the home has been extensively renovated and sees 3-bedrooms, 2-bathrooms and 1-garage.
On arrival, one notes the privacy offered through manicured hedges and the handbuilt wooden slate gate. Here, entering into the driveway is a Japanese inspired, professionally landscaped garden, replete with Volcanic Basalt pavers, walls and feature boulders.
Upon entry, the home’s charm and immediate warmth is apparent – provided by the polished Tasmanian Oak floorboards and the sunny aspect.
The home meanders from room to room – echoing the kind of serenity found in the gardens. Here, a wide entrance – replete with feature lighting – guides one through to the dining area, which overlooks the established gardens.
The main living spaces are home to a custom “library wall”, gas fireplace in the main lounge, and German designed Paarhammer custom tilt-and turn windows.
It’s also here the kitchen lands, complete with Falcon gas cooker, oven, overhead pot filler and Miele appliances.
A Sonos audio system serves the rear garden, kitchen and dining area, bathroom and main bedroom.
The home is also privy to three bedrooms, with the master bedroom complete with built-in robe, more custom joinery (which houses VAF speakers).
Kensington Park is close to The Parade’s boutique shops, cafes, cinemas, Burnside Village, Marryatville shopping precinct and elite schools including Pembroke, Marryatville and Norwood Morialta.
The listing is headed to auction on June 5 and is managed by Stephanie Williams (+61 413 874 888) of Williams Real Estate. Williamsproperty.com.au
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Many luxury hotels only build on their gilded reputations with each passing decade. But others are less fortunate. Here are five long-gone grandes dames that fell from grace—and one that persists, but in a significantly diminished form.
A magnet for celebrities, the Garden of Allah was once the scene-making equivalent of today’s Chateau Marmont. Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardner’s affair allegedly started there and Humphrey Bogart lived in one of its bungalows for a time.
Crimean expat Alla Nazimova leased a grand home in Hollywood after World War I, but soon turned it into a hotel, where she prioritised glamorous clientele. Others risked being ejected by guards and a fearsome dog dubbed the Hound of the Baskervilles. Demolished in the 1950s, the site’s now a parking lot.
The Astor family hoped to repeat their success when they opened this sequel to their megahit Waldorf Astoria hotel in 1904. It became an anchor of the nascent Theater District, buzzy (and naughty) enough to inspire Cole Porter to write in “High Society”: “Have you heard that Mimsie Starr…got pinched in the Astor Bar?”
That bar soon gained another reputation. “Gentlemen who preferred the company of other gentlemen would meet in a certain section of the bar,” said travel expert Henry Harteveldt of consulting firm Atmosphere Research. By the 1960s, the hotel had lost its lustre and was demolished; the 54-storey One Astor Plaza skyscraper was built in its place.
In the 1950s, colonial officers around Africa treated Mozambique as an off-duty playground. They flocked, in particular, to the Santa Carolina, a five-star hotel on a gorgeous archipelago off the country’s southern coast.
Run by a Portuguese businessman and his wife, the resort included an airstrip that ferried visitors in and out. Ask locals why the place was eventually reduced to rubble, and some whisper that the couple were cursed—and that’s why no one wanted to take over when the business collapsed in the ’70s. Today, seeing the abandoned, crumbled ruins and murals bleached by the sun, it’s hard to dismiss their superstitions entirely.
The overwater bungalow, a shorthand for barefoot luxury around the world, began in French Polynesia—but not with the locals. Instead, it was a marketing gimmick cooked up by a trio of rascally Americans. They moved to French Polynesia in the late 1950s, and soon tried to capitalise on the newly built international airport and a looming tourism boom.
That proved difficult because their five-room hotel on the island of Raiatea lacked a beach. They devised a fix: building rooms on pontoons above the water. They were an instant phenomenon, spreading around the islands and the world—per fan site OverwaterBungalows.net , there are now more than 9,000 worldwide, from the Maldives to Mexico. That first property, though, is no more.
The Ricker family started out as innkeepers, running a stagecoach stop in Maine in the 1790s. When Hiram Ricker took over the operation, the family expanded into the business by which it would make its fortune: water. Thanks to savvy marketing, by the 1870s, doctors were prescribing Poland Spring mineral water and die-hards were making pilgrimages to the source.
The Rickers opened the Poland Spring House in 1876, and eventually expanded it to include one of the earliest resort-based golf courses in the country, a barber shop, dance studio and music hall. By the turn of the century, it was among the most glamorous resort complexes in New England.
Mismanagement eventually forced its sale in 1962, and both the water operation and hospitality holdings went through several owners and operators. While the water venture retains its prominence, the hotel has weathered less well, becoming a pleasant—but far from luxurious—mid-market resort. Former NYU hospitality professor Bjorn Hanson says attempts at upgrading over the decades have been futile. “I was a consultant to a developer in the 1970s to return the resort to its ‘former glory,’ but it never happened.”