The Bavarian Hut - Snippets and clues

We learnt that the previous couple were born in Bavaria and that they named the property, The Bavarian Hut with large white letters on a timber frame at the entrance. They bought the property formerly a tea house and continued to serve tea and scones while she seemed to live for her painting.  Eerily, evidence of this was everywhere and brightly coloured child like paintings filled the rooms.  Once I had removed the masses of oil paintings together with a macabre life size rag doll complete with adult clothing, I felt I may have the strength to complete the enormous tidy up.  Maybe I had been watching too much television on renovation projects!

I asked neighbours if there was anyone who may like the paintings because it was apparent that the two adult sons were going to leave most of the items. One lived in Germany and the other in Northern New South Wales.  I had hoped that the place would be cleaned up even slightly before we took it over but the house remained neglected with the dirty dishes still left in the sink and chaos everywhere.  Unemptied suitcases and boxes stood while we tried to grasp and prioritise our steps before starting to renovate.  Eventually I put the paintings in a pile in the garage hoping that someone from her family or one of her friends would claim them. It seemed very sad to me that no one wanted them...

My thoughts jumped to South Africa where I visited after my own mother died and left behind her personal possesions.  I remembered the nostalgia I felt when carefully touching my mother's hand embroided cloths.  She had sewn most of them in East Africa where she sat in the heat with a wet handkerchief in her hands working the fine thread expertly.  Each flower was delicately woven and worked seamlessly.  The difference was that both my brother and I wanted the cloths that reminded us of her although I knew that both of us may not ever actually use them and they would be put away carefully in a chest or at the back of a cupboard.

Going through a heavily painted sideboard, I was shocked to find a death certificate of the previous owner and later I found out that he had died suddenly in a road accident in which no one else was involved.  Apparently he had a heart attack and left his wife living alone at the Bavarian Hut.  She lived there apparently on her own for months until her neighbours were able to stay with her for short periods of time.

Brisbane-a world away from the Bavarian Hut

Back in Brisbane, our thoughts constantly returned to the Bavarian Hut and we wasted no time in seeing our bank manager before heading up to Lower Beechmont again.  Days later our offer was accepted while we tried to explain to our daughters our motivation.  Gen, our eldest, became pensive and puzzled as she realized how determined her parents were and despite reassuring her that we were doing the right thing, she remained unconvinced.  Nat was encouraging but worried that we were taking on too much.  I knew we were too, but it was as if we were unable to stop the powerful set of motions that was now in place.

Our Tibetan Spaniels, Jessie and Bruno patiently waited while we continued to travel up every weekend.  Skips were ordered and filled, then reordered and filled again.  I did not admit to many people how overwhelmed I felt because the more stuff I sorted and threw out, the bigger the pile seemed to grow. I found a double cupboard filled with plastic bags and as I threw them out I saw at the bottom a rats nest complete with dead rat.  Grimacing I had to walk away - the stench was appalling.  I knew that once the tradespeople arrived, I would have to live at the Bavarian Hut while Bruce joined me every weekend.

I did not revel in this idea.  Leaving my beautiful three story home with my dogs, husband and daughters.  How would I cope with living in squalor with holes in the walls and the neglected lifestyle of the previous owners. Somehow although the paperwork showed that we had bought all three houses, outbuildings, land and all the contents of the houses, I felt like an unwelcome visitor.  Strange to have the consent to go through other peoples personal possesions.  Didn't they want any of it?  Weren't their children wanting a part of their parents history?

Backbreak Shed and outbuildings

Leaving the Hillton behind us, we stepped carefully past the overgrown garden.  Pausing in front of a door which was labelled Backbreak Shed gave us insight into the previous owners lives.  Inside cobwebs covered masses of tools which had been hung all along the walls.  Shelves contained interesting glass bottles and plastic containers filled with screws, nuts and bolts. 

Bruce's eyes widened as he looked around numerous old farm implements covered with dust which sat alongside expensive looking new boxes, waiting for him to discover.

Above us hung work boots and aprons, as if all the equipment was waiting for the return of the owners.  Outside we lost track of all that was included in the sale of this property. We counted a caravan, two boats, two tractors and numerous valuable farm implements which at this stage I was not able to identify their uses.

Gnomes, birds, and other stone figures dotted the garden.  I was able to identify many rambling hibiscus and azalea plants and was exhilarated to hear that everything thrived up here on the mountain.  The rich volcanic soil waited for me ...

The Hillton

  Charmed by the cottage, we chatted about the last residence we were about to enter - incongruously named The Hillton.  The little red house stood alone with views across the mountains to Mt Warning.  The worn deck gave way to the front door which opened to an open plan lounge cum bedroom with the tiniest bathroom I had ever seen.

On its panelled walls hung two old oil paintings in heavy gold frames.  The man and woman looked unhappy to see us with downward curves of their mouths showing displeasure. 

We learnt that this building had once been a real estate agency and after that a video shop which the previous owner had managed.  He was a real estate agent who sold land in the area.

I wondered about the empty twin beds lying alongside each other seemingly waiting for visitors.  Someone had tried to make this a cosy home with flowered drapes and lace curtains hanging from timber rods.  Dusty dried flowers sitting on a mantelpiece completed the picture.  An air of expectancy seem to hang in the air and I wondered again about its occupants.  What would this house tell me of its story...

Rest of the Bavarian Cottage

Ahead of us lay a large room with striped yellowed wallpaper and leafy wall to wall carpet.  Littered around the room were small tables covered in flowered plastic tablecloths.  A massive sideboard handpainted in red and green stretched across the one wall. Against a window was an old fashioned sewing machine stand with 'Wertheim' in wrought iron written below it.  On top of this a mismatched modern sewing machine sat.

A beautiful gold gilt mirror hung timelessly on the yellowed wall

and above the doorway pink cherubs completed the odd picture.  Beyond lay built in cupboards painted green with yellow flowers cheerfully decorated on them.

A second bathroom  was splayed with flowered wallpaper which I remembered from the seventies. Bright blue bathroom accessories completed the look.

 We were finally hooked...

The Bavarian Cottage

As we left the Bavarian Hut and followed David past the quaint little buildings,sheds and water tanks,
we noticed a house hiding it seemed to us at the back of the property.  Intrigued we waited while the agent again struggled to find the key that belonged to this house. Propped up near its entrance stood a 70's style lavender sink complete with rusty taps.

This cottage although painted brown had green shutters on which someone had painted little red hearts.  The solid green door opened and finally allowed us in as we turned and entered a curtained off entrance.  In the middle of the room was a single bed with a double glass door leading to the living room area. Here we gazed around us at the warm glow of timber.  The country kitchen with its green and red flowers which adorned the timber doors looked onto a field which stretched as far as the eye could see. In the sink someone had carefully washed all the dishes and left them standing.

Next to the kitchen was an L shaped bench which stood against the timber wall panelling.  The floors gleamed in the sunlight as we stood in the living room looking out past the double glass sliding doors at the small deck. Beyond us a massive cactus tree snaked its way onto the roof dominating the other trees and shrubs.

Standing in the living room were two well worn leather armchairs. The television had been painted blue and had scattered silver stars glued around its rim. A dusty set of Encyclopaedia Britannica stood above an old desk.  Adjacent were long mirrors set in the timber panelling with a small balustrade up near the roof from which a rag doll hung limply.

In front of us a timber door was carefully painted with colourful birds.  Beyond this lay a bathroom with the most vibrant blue as its background.  Colourful fish and coral childishly stretched across the entire wall. 

Beneath lay a white spa bath encased in dark timber panelling with a separate shower and pink vanity.

Leaving the living room area and retracing our steps, we opened a door opposite the front door.  As we tried to adjust to the darkness, we saw a toilet which sat above a step.  Hanging above the toilet were pipes coming out of some white tiles.  Without trying to stifle a giggle we realised that the toilet had just been installed into a previous shower without making the usual adjustments of taking out the existing pipes. I was further charmed by a small basin with a Victorian mirror hanging by a chain above it. Who were the owners of this house and why had they left so suddenly?

Passing through...

From the Bavarian Hut restaurant we passed through the veranda at the front of the house where memorabilia abound.

Here, was further evidence of a life interrupted.

Entering the second bedroom our impression was once again  reinforced as to how suddenly it appeared that the previous owners had left with all their personal possessions abandoned. 

Entering into the main bedroom we were struck by more of the same.  Looking beyond that, however we took in the large size of the room, and the views of mountains right the way to the Tweed River mouth. 

It appeared from the state of the paint that the rooms had not been painted for at least 40 years and were drab and desolate.

What were we considering letting ourselves in for -- could it get any worse? ...

Bavarian Hut Restaurant

The look of shocked disbelief passed as we entered through the door of the restaurant.  Cottage tables and chairs were still placed ready for diners...but all was quiet at the Bavarian Hut.  The place felt eerily abandoned with oil paintings and plates still adorning the walls. 

A decorative meat grinder sat on the timber bar and lace ruffles lined the tops of the windows. A large wood burner sat resolutely in the centre of the room and timber panelling gave character to its adjoining bright blue walls. 

We were transfixed as we sensed the potential as we moved into an extended part of the diningroom in which tables and benches remained with masses of paint brushes, pots, paints, old magazines and books littered its surface. An attractive old creamer sat in its corner with a side table beyond.  Both were painted in a deep green with red and white flowers completing the Bavarian look. As we gazed out of the windows, an overgrown garden stretched out amongst the backdrop of the skyscrapers of the Gold Coast below.  There were led further...

Stepping into the Bavarian Hut

The agent mentioned he would meet us there and I spent a sleepness night in anticipation.  The images from my computer flashed before me as I tried to picture the property.

We knew that there were at least three houses on an acre of flat ground, 2000 ft (600 m) above the Gold Coast and that the original house had been a restaurant.  The price indicated that the property was in dire need of tender care but nothing prepared us for the moment we actually stood on the property.

As we shook hands with David, the agent, I noticed an amused look on his face.  He told us a brief history of the property explaining what an icon it was and that people had arrived by helicopter to dine in its heyday. Struggling with the set of keys, I noticed the kitchen door had 'Private' emblazened on it before we stepped into the commercial kitchen.

It seemed as if the owners had simply walked out years ago, leaving the dishes in the sink ready to be washed... But they hadn't come back.  On the shelves, empty old jam jars had been collected and someone had carefully put herbs and spices in them.  Everywhere was an overwhelming sense of clutter.

Old pots hung above the stainless steel gas stove, dusty jugs carelessly washed with food spills, steam baskets piled, different basins in an array of condition, Kenwood mixers from the seventies (one orange, one white and one yellow) cups, mugs and utensils lined everywhere. 

Against the far wall, copper pipes wound their way ominously around the ancient commercial dishwasher.  Worn refrigerator doors opened into the dark cavities of the cooler rooms.  An impressive maze of wires with peeling paint stretched around the walls as our eyes opened wider.

Now I knew why the agent was amused to see us.  Who would be brave enough to take this project on?  I was increasingly doubtful it would be us...

Finding the Bavarian Hut

Back in Brisbane, I tried to focus on the present, but my thoughts kept escaping to the lower Beechmont with its rural setting and small friendly community.  Our daughters, Gen and Nat soon heard about our day trip as we animatedly spoke about our country drive.

I was soon on my laptop flicking through all the properties I could find in the area.  Resolutely I continued, noting a few had open homes for the following day.  None though really interested us until I saw the advertisement and photographs for one headlined the Dawning of a New Era.  As I read further I learnt that the property was known as the Bavarian Hut and after 70 years of serving fine food, it was on the market.

Searching...

As we drove from Nerang up the winding road to Lower Beechmont, I commented on the steep climb of six hundred metres.  Below us lay the occasional house precariously balancing among the steep terrain of trees.  As we climbed further we gasped at the sight of the Gold Coast with its tall buildings glittering in the midday sun. A day trip into the mountains was about to change our lives.

Approaching the quaint village of Lower Beechmont, we slowed down and stopped at a small cottage which had been converted into a restuarant.  This together with a real estate agency, general store and houses formed the small community.  Around us cows contentedly grazed amongst the lush grass and children climbed trees with reckless abandon.  As we sat at the sturdy timber benches, we relaxed while ordering our pies and chips.  My husband, Bruce and I observed the quietness of yesteryear as we eased into a different flow of life.

After our hearty country fare, we looked forward to the rest of our journey with renewed enthusiasm away from the city we had left behind. Ahead of us, we climbed further until the trees cleared and the expanse of the Gold Coast was below us.  Up we sped towards Beechmont and Binna Burra beyond.