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...