As a result of a couple of days off, I booked into the Buky House in Hancock Park, a part of LA that is nestled between Wilshire Boulevard and Melrose Avenue. I will always retain affection for Los Angeles because of its tucked away, historical quarters that elicit romantic notions of past glamour.
The B&B is in a quiet, residential neighborhood made up of tree-lined streets that were constructed during the 1920s. I was instantly drawn to the Buky House’s Mediterranean appearance: orangey bougainvillea and greenery climbed up walls around the heavy wooden front door and a small balcony with canvas-covered chairs. We arrived when Gail was out so she had left simple instructions and a key around the back. We let ourselves in, climbed the unglazed tile stairs and had a look around.
The spacious front rooms were a cool and welcoming respite from the August heat outside, with high arched ceilings and an intriguing collection of art pieces from around the world. The living area is replete with bar, fireplace, couches and chaise lounge. The dining room, where on this occasion sunflowers decorated a glass table; a massive oak sideboard took up one wall and an open door led to the balcony. Here I found Kokomo, the elderly and very friendly black cat, snoozing in the afternoon sunshine. The overall feeling is Spanishy from an earlier decade.
The tactile sisal carpeting in the halls and bedroom, and terracotta tiles in the kitchen encouraged being barefoot and the laissez-faire attitude toward breakfast in the morning (plates and cutlery stacked next to a bowl of fruit, a jar of cereal, hot coffee and the paper) spoke of relaxation and comfort; we were free to do as we pleased. Our purple-walled bedroom with its comfortable bed and crisp linens was just the sanctuary I needed after a week at the bland Holiday Inn in downtown LA, especially as I am particularly fond of the color, a hangover from childhood. However, I could definitely have done without the large clown painting and its equally childish nightmare associations.
The small, white-tiled bathroom leading off of the bedroom had a powerful, sun-filled shower that made up for the tiny sink from which I succeeded in getting more water on the floor than on my face. Our window looked out on a patch of grass and lounge chairs, and over the garage to pink stucco neighboring houses. How nice to have linen blinds moving in the evening breeze instead of being forced to inhale recirculated hotel air conditioning.
Buky House is well situated for most LA tourist pursuits such as shopping on Melrose and Wilshire, zipping down to Santa Monica, hiking in the hills, dining in Hollywood, or visiting the studios. Locally on La Brea are a handful of wacky antique shops and some decent restaurants. If you are in search of a low-key pad in which to chill out with absolutely no pretension, Buky House is just the place.