Hillview Heritage Estate, Sutton Forest: dream holiday that's close to home
History is writ large at these storied lodgings.
It smells like history,” announces my fellow book-clubber. Six of us, giddy from sundowner champagnes as well as the delight of being on our annual winter getaway from Sydney, laugh as we sink into Hillview’s sofas and armchairs. We know exactly what she means.
We’ve swept up the 60ha property’s historic carriageway, dramatically lined with English elms and Lombardy poplars, to settle into Hillview Heritage Estate, a former vice-regal retreat in the NSW Southern Highlands that crowns a hillock at Sutton Forest. Given its la-di-da gubernatorial heritage, the plantings surrounding and sheltering the Victorian-era complex are well-documented. Horticulture enthusiasts could spend their stay clocking the Himalayan cedars, evergreen oaks, rare purple-leaved Dutch elm, beauty bush, honeysuckles and old-fashioned shrubbery.
For us, the gardens can wait as we settle into five of the eight cottages. Two of the gentle-ladies are sharing the two-bedroom Lord Carrington cottage where high ceilings hint at its former life as a laundry. Considering we barely see the lord of the manor — proprietor Damien Miller — or other guests, it feels as if we have this property with its splendid, kangaroo-dotted vistas pretty much to ourselves.
Cottages are similarly priced but vary enormously in layout, size and aspect. Rambling like roses around the 19th-century, two-storey main residence, they once housed up to 35 staff. My cottage, Baron Wakehurst (one of the 16 NSW governors who stayed during Hillview’s time as an official country residence between 1882 and 1957), incorporates a wall panel and bellringer that once summoned staff up to the main house.
Yet we don’t gather at mine. The Baron, squeezed between other cottages, offers neither view nor ambience. We’re celebrating a milestone, too, and the birthday madam is installed in the Earl Beauchamp cottage, a standout with its sun-soaked veranda, convivial communal space, statement fireplace and contemporary bathroom with his-and-hers vanities.
Earl of Jersey, bathed in morning sunshine and positioned towards a stretch-on-forever view, is another fine option. From these two boltholes, it’s a short amble down to a formal terrace where we take breakfast (English muffins, muesli, coffee, juice and spreads are supplied) over the newspapers (Moss Vale’s shops are 5km away).
Dinner is another matter. We want to spend our first night going precisely nowhere. To work around the super-basic kitchen set-up of most cottages (microwave, kettle, bar fridge, no sink, with only the two-bedroom Sir Admiral Rawson cottage featuring a fuller kitchen), one culinary wizard has brought cooked pasta and a slow-cooker packed with saucy meatballs. The evening passes in a haze of comfort food and delicious wines.
Highland wineries are on our Saturday to-do list but this would require leaving our bliss bubble. Instead, we wander among Hillview’s photogenic sculptures (see In the Know), inspect the neighbouring cows, give our doggy companions walks galore (with a refreshing lack of restrictions, Hillview’s pet-friendliness is next-level) and devour leftovers for lunch. A bottle of Tertini dessert wine emerges from my luggage; I’ve brought the Mittagong winery to us. It pairs well with the remainder of last night’s flourless chocolate mousse cake (a decadent concoction from the local Gumnut Patisserie) and is the perfect accompaniment to several rounds of trivia. Eventually we flop into lawn chairs with mimosas in hand. The afternoon could not be more languid.
We rouse ourselves to tour the main house with Damien. The property was given to NSW in 1990, and he is the lessee for the next 30 years. The ground floor includes drawing and dining rooms, a billiards room with cleverly disguised ceiling vents that whisked away cigar smoke, and other spaces where you can only imagine the hobnobbing that must have gone on. We fancy a fabulous party where our frocks sweep the floor, jewels sparkle at our throats and the champagne never runs out.
On that note, it’s time to primp for dinner at Berrima’s Eschalot. A maxi-cab whisks us through the dark, depositing us at the restaurant near Old Berrima Gaol, built by convict work gangs and pre-dating even Hillview. After stuffing ourselves with roast lamb, swordfish and fried chicken, we head for home, passing ghostly moonlit trees knocked askew by persistent winds.
Foodies are spoilt for choice in this region. On the way to Hillview, I nabbed a lunch booking at Mittagong’s Paste Australia. It opened only in June but is packed thanks to the Michelin-starred reputation of chef Bongkoch “Bee” Satongun. I bump into three colleagues and we order watermelon salad with shredded salmon, roast duck on rice crackers, smoky southern crab curry, a passionfruit-glazed chocolate dome and so much more.
To wrap up the weekend, bibliophiles and hounds head for the Box Vale Walking Track within Mount Alexandra Reserve. Half of us reach the 84m-long tunnel, a remnant of a coalmining tramway, while the rest stop to smell the eucalypts. Our final stop is Berrima’s Bendooley Estate, a cellar door, restaurant and bookstore. There’s no more appropriate place for a hungry book club to gather than around a table within the Berkelouw Book Barn (patriarch Leo Berkelouw bought Bendooley in 1977). It’s also quite a scene, with sunshine highlighting the Chanel handbags dangling from patio chairs and sports cars prowling the parking lot.
For us, the weekend has sparkled in every respect. Of all the places our book club has stayed through the years — friends’ houses, Airbnbs, city and country hotels, an orchard turned winery — Hillview somehow beats them all. It fires the imagination and inspires Jane Austenesque fantasies. Forget Mr Darcy, though; our object of desire is Hillview itself.
