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BY DHALIA RAYMOND OUT OF TOWNoo

To the Manor Born: Butterfly HouseLondon in January is vile. Ever the proverbial ‘morning after’ to our Dickensian Christmas and rapturous celebration of the New Year, January – a.k.a. the eternal night – tends to offer little more than a bitterly cold and rain-sodden purgatory, with only a glimmer of cheerfulness in the form of gingerbread lattes getting us through to spring.

With this in mind I am always keen to huddle my good friends around me (for warmth as much as anything else) and brainstorm some sort of antidote to this perennially misery inducing month. Unsurprisingly, a collective, ‘Get me out of here!’ rings in the air and so begins the coma-inducing troll through last minute flights and desert island fancies. Why as a nation we decided to sack-off travel agents will forever astonish me, with all the fuss and bother of international travel, who on earth has the time these days?

If only at a moment’s notice I could pack an overnight bag with a pot of Patum Peperium, some Darjeeling tea and a cracking book, zoom off into the Friday evening traffic – heroically flying in the face of all that incoming city nonsense – knowing full well I was headed directly for green

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and pleasant and private land. If only I had a country pile.

Sometimes things are easier said than done, but then again, sometimes things are just easy. It turns out that you don’t actually have to beg, steal, borrow or inherit a stately bolthole these days; you can simply rent one for the weekend instead. How does a private lake house in the Cotswalds suit you sir? Perhaps an eighteen bedroom manor house in Burford is more your thing? There’s always a castle in Yorkshire? And would you like your residence staffed M’lady?

I didn’t want staff; I wanted to feel completely at home in my new mansion. And so it was that me, and seven of my nearest and dearest friends, set off for the Butterfly House in Dorset.

The Cannonball Run with friends is always highly amusing and all the dismally marked country roads and flickering mobile signals simply conspired to fill the arrival at our destination with that much more sweet relief.

Butterfly House (so named because at one stage it housed a butterfly farm) is an impressive sight to behold. A long gravel drive wraps around the entire estate leading up to the West Wing and the house itself is constructed in mid-16th century style with hamstone elevations, crenellated parapets and a slate roof.

Once inside you’d need four of the tallest individuals to stand on each other’s shoulders before they had any hope of touching the ceiling, but for all this light and space the rooms stayed warm and inviting.

A gargantuan kitchen dining room, complete with two ovens and every other mod-con a seasoned chef could dare to dream up, is bathed in light from the oversized bay windows which makes it a pleasure to cook and eat in. This leads onto the rather sizeable library room boasting deep feather-cushioned sofas and a fireplace that could have served just as well as a walk-in wardrobe. Once we had set this ablaze it was on to explore the seven bedrooms, two of which are super-kings – that’s a three bedroom flat to you and me. There are four bathrooms – three ensuite, with huge mirrors, oversized shower enclosures behind free-standing glass screens and roll-top baths. And then, just when we thought it couldn’t get any better we hit the jackpot with the discovery of a sumptuous cinema room tucked away on the far side of the house.

Much to my dismay, it is apparently a sin not to wander the countryside, if you find yourself in it, and for those who do like to ramble there is ample opportunity and space surrounding the Butterfly House. We were given various

maps and walking options ranging from 50 minutes to a very respectable if not extremely chilly three hours. I’m all for curling up by the fireplace myself.

On our 30 minute walk we happened upon a treat you don’t often find off the beaten path in the form of Trencherman’s Deli. This is a private member’s shop serving only those who live on the estate and in surrounding hamlets. It is an Aladdin’s cave of herbs and spices, fine confectionary, well chosen wines and delicious cold-cuts. If you forgot to bring it with you need not worry, you’ll probably find whatever it is in here.

Of course two nights is never enough but sadly all a weekend

has to offer. As our stay came to a close we bid goodbye to the beautiful house, pointed our motors in the direction of London and stopped only to sample the delights of a Sunday roast (highly recommended) at the Queen’s Arms in Corten Denham. I suppose I’ll have to resign myself to reality then, no more crackling fires or sparkly chandeliers, aperitifs in the library or being called Lady Raymond. But only until next weekend...

Butterfly House: Sleeps 10 adults and 4 childrenNr Sherborne, DorsetT: 01637 881942 W: www.butterflyhouse.uniquehomestays.com

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