There is many-a-convo one can hear while touring the Biltmore. I mean, it’s a great place for family and friends but sometimes you’ll overhear certain things from other visitors that stick in your mind just because they’re so prominent: like one older lady that seemed to proclaim to the entire courtyard “Well I haven’t been on my feet this much since nineteen-eighty-five!” Or the small child that lost his mind when news was broken to him that the lions by the front door didn’t come alive at night (a claim I can neither prove nor disprove myself).

It’s a grand time observing not just yourself in a space but watching other interact with it as well.

Having visited many times, especially in the last five years, I couldn’t leave the subject without a few more personal ticks and stories that make that estate feel special to me. Like I said, having a book and journal with me whenever I go it alone is important because, I mean, how many times can I string my eno in the backyard of a rich person’s house? Let alone a castle…

As a quick note, the two other books that I’ve read these past months along with Places of the Heart were two that I had on my list for a long time: Florence William’s The Nature Fix and Denise Kiernan’s The Last Castle, and they were joys to read.

Florence Williams presents a case for the healing powers of nature beautifully. We share a general depressive state whenever we come back from the mountains (she made a move from the ranges of Colorado to the crowded streets of D.C.), a little tidbit that I’m not just a crazy tree hugger. There’s a concept called “forest bathing” that I learned about; I learned of the effects of droning aircraft noises on my auditory systems; I read about fractals….meaning that I learned what they are and why they’re important to our minds.

I greatly recommend this book to the nature lover and the nature naysayer alike.

The Last Castle is a book that I had been dying to read for the past year. Due to school-related activities, I normally have to put pleasure-reading books on the cold, freezing, inactive back-burner, but I charged through this book in roughly two and half weeks. It’s. So. Interesting.

The lives of the Vanderbilts, and the families that came before and after, are detailed so perfectly, it feels like I know them (I do eye their stuff…and their house, so I’m surprised I didn’t feel that before). Their stories just come alive. They were tangled in tabloids, in sickness, in tribulations, depression, eagerness, adventure, and great charity. Through cute stories, like the moment George met Edith on a cruise ship, or crazy stories, like George’s best friend being murdered, you’ve got a great history of the Vanderbilts at your disposal.

Also. Highly recommended.

With that said, here are a few tidbits from my adventures to the Biltmore. Some interesting, some dull, some repetitive, but as someone who loves going back year after year, it seems that that kind of mentality is encouraged by the Company.

♣♣♣

My favorite room?

The library, hands down. The space is expansive and dark and somewhat lair-ish. Not only is it shrouded in gorgeous dark veneers but the lampposts, the original furniture, the perimeter balcony, and compact spiral stairs collectively add to the coziness of the space despite how huge it is. I could swing open the doors to the vine-covered awning if I wanted to let a mountain breeze pass through. I could, and this is a bit I learned of in The Last Castle, sneak down a set of stairs on an upper story hallway and emerge on the library balcony late at night with coffee in hand and a blaze in the fireplace. It would be past any reasonable time of night to consume literature (and caffeine) but it would be the best.

On the opposite side of the house sits a room I also love called the Gentleman’s lounge (along with the Billiards room), but I wouldn’t gather my friends there. We’d convene in the library if I inhabited Biltmore.

I favor also the French Salon room opposite the Winter Garden on the main floor. Sit there could I also for hours on end staring out at the mountains, possibly watching storm clouds sweep across the sky in the distance.

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Would I want to live in the Biltmore House?

Honestly, if that place were handed to me with no strings attached, of course I could. I think anyone could. But to say that I’d truly want to would be to me a kind of lie. Not a big one, but a lie nonetheless.

Now ask me if I wanted a small cabin on a hillside overlooking the house and grounds? I’m so there. I would be content for the rest of my days.

…when could I move?

♠♠♠

When I was younger, the film Richie Rich pictured me a lot of things that my small developing brain really wanted (at the time). One of such things was a roller coaster, on my property, to be used anytime I felt like it.

I thought the Estate had such a marvel. Disappointed was I, as a child, to learn that it didn’t exist, that roller coasters were for Six Flags and that hundred-year-old priceless artifacts were for museums. Elated am I, as an adult, that no such theme park ride, or anything like it, is on the Estate nor would I ever hope such a thing would stand to be erected there.

I’m pretty sure the Vanderbilts would be elated as well to know that Biltmore didn’t become the next Coney Island.

♣♣♣

The stonework is uh-mazing. There are elegant carvings everywhere and they’re beautifully crafted. They’re also creepy. Another reason why I probably couldn’t live there full time. Too many faces and angel wings and pupils everywhere I turn.

Creepy beauty (or beautiful creepiness?) aside, on the back of the house, above the loggia, tucked into the corner and underneath an overhang sits what I think is the only Griffon on the facade. It isn’t completely hidden but it is something you have to look for.

And he’s my favorite. Like anything I name, he is the Griffon Charlie and he’s awesome. I see him when I go.

◊◊◊

Becoming Jane with Anne Hathaway (surprised? A movie about one of the most famous authors?) is one of my most favorite of movies and in that movie is a scene where Jane plays cricket with the boys and accompanying that scene is a most wonderful composition. “A Game of Cricket” is a beautiful piece and one that I could listen to for days on repeat. Likewise, it’s fitting then that I think of that piece often while walking around the grounds of Biltmore. Being so lovely, the composition flows nicely in and out of crescendos and fortes kind of like the landscapes there on the Estate.

Plus, I could tour that place with Jane Austen all day long if it were possible.

Or Anne Hathaway for that matter, if we’re talking about imaginary dream scenarios.

♦♦♦

There are many thoughts that go through my head, almost all of them pleasant when I’m there. Either I can’t remember a lot at this moment or there are too many to name. So here’s a bullet list:

• Being on the roof above the staircase reminds me of being on a set of Phantom of the Opera. I can imagine Phantom hiding in the pitches of the gothic roof and amongst the gargoyles.
• I’ve bumped my head on the smaller spaces in the upper floor going out onto the roof. I’ve done it more than a few times, each one more spectacular (and noticeable) than the rest. Not everywhere in Biltmore House is large and grandiose, I’m here to tell you.
• It’s cool to think about the many movies that were filmed on the property. When I’m there, I have this consciousness that I’m treading on a movie set. And, technically I am. Literally.
• I’ve tried many times to photograph my car in the vicinity of the Esplanade. It never meets my apparently unobtainable vision, however.
• Most of the wine I have has come from Biltmore. It’s smooth and graceful and tastes so good.
• My family has probably seen The Private Eyes with Don Knotts and Tim Conway a hundred times. We can quote it to a tee. Our abilities are only heightened when at Biltmore.
• When I go, I normally get there by seven and stay till sunset. Some people would’ve fallen over by noon or sooner, but I save that for when I get back to my room. This is probably why my knees feel like they’ve got way more than twenty-three years on them. And my ankles.

A trip to tour the place is well worth your time, your money, and your energy. I can’t stress that enough. My dad shows me pictures from the eighties of his red Chevy down by the lagoon.

And I show him my hundreds of photos (guilty, yes) of my blue Honda down by the nearly same spot. House in the background on the hill, me behind the lens. Probably still smiling from ear-to-ear, eyes closed, A Game of Cricket rolling through my thoughts.

And being at peace.

…

Adrian Johnston—A Game of Cricket

Jared and the Mill—Feels Like

Josh Garrels—Train Song

Family and Friends—My Life, My Love

The Oh Hellos—Bitter Water

The Paper Kites—Featherstone

Tow’rs—Vanilla Pines