The Pensive Traveller - Grunberg House
When you’ve travelled the world, most of the places, faces, beaches and hotels blend into one fuzzy memory after a while. But certain things stick in your mind. For me, one such place is Grunberg House.
Back in September 1999 I was reaching the end of a road trip that had taken me all the way from Key West up to New England. I was due to fly home from New York in a week’s time so I had a few days to explore. It was Autumn time - the best season to see New England. The trees were a patchwork quilt of reds, browns and ochres; it was picture-postcard perfect.
I drove out of Montpelier into the Green Mountains of Vermont one quiet afternoon. I stopped to see Mount Mansfield and Camel’s Hump Mountain before finding a motel for the night. My accommodation throughout the trip had thus far involved the sort of all-American motel you see in road movies. A novelty at first, but I was quickly tiring of the monotony. So you can imagine my happiness when I drove past a sign painted in cheery German script - Grunberg House. Finally, a hotel that didn’t look like a 1940s pre-fab. I parked up and went to investigate.
Grunberg House rose out of the pines like a Tyrolean mirage. Dark wood beams, carved balconies and a chalet roof. It was beautiful. And, even better, they had a room for me. The inside of the chalet was like an Austrian living room. A piano with Bach music scores, shelves upon shelves of books, over-sized sofas..
I spent three nights at Grunberg House and all but forgot that I was in the United States. Sitting with my morning coffee on the back terrace, I felt as if I was staying at some quaint Tyrolean retreat. I guess that’s the beauty of travel - finding something completely out of the blue that stays with you forever.
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Find out more about Grunberg Haus here.