Across the garden
The bathhouse
Steam, cold water,
and no clock on the wall.
A low building of lime plaster and pale stone on the far side of the kitchen garden. A hot room that smells of cedar, a plunge the temperature of the sea in March, two deep tubs, and a bench against the south wall for afterwards. Phones stay in the basket by the door.
Inside
Four rooms,
one temperature at a time.
The hot room first, as long as you can. The plunge second, quicker than you'd like. The tubs third, as long as you want. The bench last, wrapped in wool, watching the garden do nothing in particular.
Towels, robes and salt scrub are in the anteroom; nothing to carry over but yourself.
Mornings shared, evenings booked
The evening hour is yours alone — ask at the kitchen for the slate.
- Mornings, 7–11
- Open house for guests, swimsuits worn
- Afternoons
- The stove rests, the tubs stay warm
- Evenings, 6–10
- Private hours, one room's guests at a time
- To book an hour
- Chalk your room on the slate by the kitchen door
- Cost
- None. It is part of the house.
Cold water is voluntary. The bench is not — everyone ends up on the bench.