Terrace by Asapuwa

An old house from 1930, recently refurbished by the country's leading architect, Channa Daswatte MICDA, has been my family's ancestral property. Rajasthan Room is a vibrant space which is next to my own bedroom. This room has direct access to the library and the lounge. When I am in the country I will be occupying my bedroom ( a few days of the year) and you will have to share the same bathroom (I assure you I keep it very clean !) You are free to use the whole house including the kitchen.,etc The space One is always reminiscent of one's childhood home, some more than others, even with Dickensian allusions to the minute details of the dark corners where memories lay buried. The Asapuwa, - a hermit’s lodge- my family home , a high-ceiling, colonial style inspired - yet more eclectic as a result of recent refurbishments - is a two storey twin house, built in late 1930s. In spite of its vintage feeling of the dry paint peeling off here and there from window frames, its historical charm elevates itself, considering the drab suburbia where every inch is brutally built, some with eye-sore, cement cell-blocks. Mine is a modest, yet grand place whose meticulous maintenance has allowed pleasant living for three generations. Yet, it is a tropical house in suburban Colombo where one may NOT have the pleasure of avoiding a trail of ants creeping even up along the hem of the bed spread, gekho goverend age old rafters and an ocasional spider. Hence anybody entertaining the the idea of Northeren European sanitised living should look for another alternative. Guest access The Asapuwa is multifaceted. You enter through a well-manicured frothy patch of green where you can sit and enjoy the canopy of a large tree. Room downstairs with its en-suite bathroom has a seperate entrance, in addition to the exquisitely designed living room. It showcases my love for artifacts, especailly kilims I have collected in many souks in my Middle Eat travels. And the brand new kitchen allures anyone who enjoys practising their culinary arts . An elegant, typical Daswatte style staiway leads to the upper floor which has two bedroom with their own bathrooms. In addition, the guests MAY BE GIVEN access to the library and the lounge room which give the feeling of being at more of a Morrocan Pasha or a Kyrgyz yurt. Upper-floor also has its own terrace adorned by green shrubs and ivy type, hugging the parapet wall. Besides the intrusive visits from the neighborhood cat, the house has has no live-in pets. During your stay Fate has made me create yet another home in Oslo, Norway over the decades. Hence; I won't be there most of the time. Nisa, a deft cook and her husband, the duo caretakers of my place will make sure that all your needs are attended to. They have their own space downstairs and will NOT be around, unless 'summoned':) Other things to note No, there's no beach close by, nor is there a beatiful tree lined bouleuvard where you can take refuge in a form of an evening walk, like in a couple of fancy suburbs of Colombo. You may find that there isn't even a shpping mall, no matter how hedious they are by nature, where you can suanter around. The temple perched on the hilltop has always been my escape, especially its benign bo-tree bringing solace to any soul in tension. Once the initial discordance is endured, you’ll notice that beauty permeates the place. Its intrinsic charm, chiseled in by vast Ena de Silva wall hangings, lulls you to rest in my living room, curated by non other than Channa Daswatte, country’s leading architect, which may give you the feeling of being lost in a corner of a museum or a And if you want to escape all clutter 'n trivialities of living, you can lock yourself in the Lounge upstairs and practise yoga. Or listen to music, whilst enjoying a cup of REAL coffee. Or grab a book from my late father's jeolously guarded library whose contents harp our common interest in literature from Chauser to Camus, from Jane Austin to Arundathi Roy. Lately, it is the kitchen where I get my kicks. Whilst preparing Norwegian salted spare ribs, a rarity in Sri Lanka, I adore the frenzy of cooking for 12 friends whilst the small ghetto blaster spews 'Sound of silence' and feeling apprehensive if they wouldn't come on time.