Greyfield Inn

There I was back in the United States, sitting on a boat, eyes closed, breathing in the smell of salt and sand and sea. I had missed the ocean so much. Thirty minutes later we docked on the national seashore of Cumberland Island, Georgia, an island with only dirt roads mostly used for walking or bike riding and almost zero cars. We walked from the seashore into an enchanted Southern forest with her blanket of Spanish moss swaying overhead from the gnarled arms of centuries old live oak trees. And then like a beautiful, perfect white shell  you walk upon on the beach, Greyfield Inn appears in front of you in all her splendor echoing a bygone era. 

It’s hard to write about how being here feels. Words can’t seem to touch this kind of magic. I still find it quite remarkable that this sort of place can even still exist unspoiled by modernization or development. As an original home built in the 1900’s by Thomas and Lucy Carnegie for their daughter Margaret Ricketson as a wedding gift, the home is still adorned by paintings and photographs of the family and priceless heirlooms such at Tiffany lamps and Chippendale furniture. Though it was transformed into an Inn in 1962, it is still overseen by the family as they blur the line between romantic luxury grand hotel and charming, intimate family home. 

I have been once before in the early spring, but I found it to be a cozy hideaway in the winter chill. They keep the fireplace in the parlor roaring all day and the bar stocked where you can make yourself a drink to heart’s desire. In the evening after cocktails and mingling with guests over an oyster roast the dinner bell rings, men in their sport coats and women in their dresses ascend down the stairs for truly spectacular three course meal that rivals any Michelin star restaurant, comprised of many ingredients grown next to the house in one of the Inn’s organic gardens. 

But it’s not all about the mansion. It’s also about the island.

The 200-acres of unspoiled marshland, open empty seashore, former plantation ruins populated by wild horses, and artifacts from centuries of American history including the First African Baptist Church founded in 1893 in a community settled by former slaves and later would become the chapel John F. Kennedy Jr. was married in. The island is home to one of my favorite stretches of beach in the world because you feel as if you have it all to yourself, you see nature as it is when it’s just allowed to be. I started each day here watching the sun rise over the horizon and sparkling off the ocean.

Greyfield Inn has found a perfect harmony with it’s place on the island giving their guests bikes to explore, organized daily tours of historic sites, bird watching hikes, kayaks, fishing and much more. It’s the kind of place you can come and do nothing but relax on the porch swing reading a book or sign up for days of activities. What I love most about it all, is once you step foot on the island it’s as if you live in a magical bubble where you don’t have to drive anywhere or make any decisions whatsoever. Your picnic lunch is packed for you everyday in a basket to grab when you wish, your dinner is arranged and in true southern hospitality style, the home feels like yours for a brief moment in time. 

 

*If you are on mobile you can check out my saved instagram story for a first hand experience with videos of the island & inn. 

Cumberland Island

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I remember that photograph. It was instantly synonymous with American style, American royalty, and that fairytale wedding to Prince Charming. I never forgot that image, the beauty of the moment, the elegance and intimacy of the chosen venue. Such an interesting choice to make for such a famous last name. Fast forward nearly 18 years later, and I’m standing on the steps of the First African Baptist Church on Cumberland Island thinking about all the dreams that one photograph gave me as a child. I remember reading about how the guests stayed at the Greyfield Inn where the reception was held but as time passed these little details faded away, now those faded details are a part of my very personal memories. Cumberland became more than a dream, but a cherished experience.

The day is full of delight with the kind of youthful energy and discovery you find in a F. Scott Fitzgerald book. We went on hour long hikes, took bike rides to old cemeteries and rode around horses grazing beneath the ruins of the Dungeness mansion. We rode for hours down the seashore without ever seeing another person, finding seashells and chasing horses. One of the most charming rituals of the Inn is how they make their guests picnic baskets for lunch everyday you can take with you on your private adventures.  On our second morning we rode with the house naturalist on a tour of the island where we visited that famous church, saw the house where President Jimmy Carter ate at multiple times, and discovered Plum Plantation which took my breath away. The history and nature, preservation and privateness is so far beyond anything I have ever experienced that I can only describe this stretch of land, twice the size of Manhattan, as magical.

If you ever need to find that corner of the world where things just are… where you can sit in the natural silence of the world alone and breathe in the sunlight, taste the salt of the sea and feel that life is just simply beautiful… then come to Cumberland Island. My heart will be there waiting for you.

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Greyfield Inn

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While we were in California last year, spending the day photographing Lake Tahoe with our friends, Adam Katseff and his wife Amy, they told us about the Greyfield Inn…the magical place they stayed on their honeymoon, one that they knew I would LOVE (turned out to be a major understatement). I knew the name sounded familiar, and once they mentioned it was on Cumberland Island, it all came back to me…an enchanting wedding, an all-American couple…but more on that tomorrow…

After hearing about it, I knew I had to see Greyfield Inn for myself and with the trip down to visit SCAD, it was the perfect opportunity. I’m an extremely visual person and I’m sure it comes to no surprise to you that I quite often dream about the way life looked “back then”. I think walking through the doors of Greyfield will be as close as I will ever get to knowing the way it might have actually looked…

You leave your car on Amelia Island and Mitti, one of the four owners and inheritors of Greyfield and the Carnegie property, takes you by boat to Cumberland Island. Walking up from the dock the giant, old live oaks seem to wave at you with their long fingers of Spanish moss, diffusing the afternoon sun into a sparkling haze underneath their centuries-old canopy. Then, from behind the trees you catch the first glimpse of the four story white mansion they call Greyfield. Built in 1900 as a wedding gift to the Carnegie’s daughter, Margaret, this home is still furnished with many of the original pieces of that era but with exceptional modern day comforts (ummm…air-conditioning). As you walk up the grand staircase to the second floor porch lined with rocking chairs and swinging daybeds, you regret how short your stay is. Now, up in the canopy of live oaks, you overlook the property of white picketed fences and fields of grazing wild horses and as they offer you organic rosemary lemonade, if you’re like me, you think you’ve died and gone to heaven.

The house, grand as it is, still holds a very sweet intimacy. At night, sitting out by the waterway looking back on her, she stands a soft pearly white in the light of the moon, framed by Spanish moss draped trees with a golden light glowing out of every window, so warm and welcoming you would swear the evening was meant just for you. The charm extends to the inside with its historic clawfoot bathtubs, immaculate upkeep, full service bar, organic meals, classic high quality southern linens and L’Occitane toiletries. Every evening, men in dinner jackets and ladies in our sweet southern dresses snack on hors d’oeuvres and classic Southern cocktails (recipe for my favorite below!), awaiting a dinner bell around 7:30 where we all move into the formal dining room for that night’s seasonal meal which at times can harvest ingredients from Greyfield’s own impressive garden.

I know on busy New York days or times when I’m caught in a blizzard, I will think back on this memory and my soul will fill with the warmth of these sunny afternoons, lost on Cumberland Island in a dream called Greyfield

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