Edwina Bartholomew and her husband Neil Varcoe weren’t actively searching for a country escape when they found Warramba, a sandstone shearer’s cottage from the 1890s nestled deep in NSW’s Capertee Valley, but they were looking for space. “We were both craving some time out of the city,” Bartholomew explains. “Neil grew up in [nearby] Lithgow, and I’d just spent three years travelling around the country with Sunrise.
I really missed being in the country.” As it happened, their home found them on a quiet New Year’s Eve in 2015, while they were scrolling through real estate listings. “Neil knew the area well, which made it feel like fate,” she says. “We were so lucky to find the home we now call Warramba.” Originally, the plan was a simple renovation – “Just an IKEA kitchen and some basic improvements,” Bartholomew recalls. But as they settled in, the scope expanded. “We knew we would have this property forever, so we wanted to do our renos once and do it properly.”
Fortunately, the exterior was in excellent shape. “The sandstone and the original windows were so well preserved that we could focus our budget on the interiors,” she says. Their biggest challenge was balancing rustic charm with modern luxury without falling into cliché. “We wanted interiors that felt at home in the country but without all the obvious country tropes,” Bartholomew says. “There’s no fancy stone, no white-on-white, no farmhouse kitsch. Just simple materials and beautiful textiles.”
To bring their vision to life, they enlisted Felicity Slattery from Studio Esteta, a long-time friend and trusted designer. “Felicity did the most wonderful job leading the interior design,” Bartholomew says. As an interiors enthusiast, Bartholomew dove deep into sourcing furniture and decor once the fixtures were in place. “We collected antiques from Victoria, ceramics and fabrics from Japan, benches from Kyneton and serving platters from a gallery in Coonamble. The wool sorting table came from a neighbour’s clearance sale. Everything was driven up to the farm.” Her vision? “We wanted the house to feel collected, not decorated. Every item has a story and a place.”
The main living room is the heart of the home. “Neil loves building fires in the fireplace, and I adore the linen curtains from Simple Studio that wrap completely around the walls,” Bartholomew says. “It gets very cold in the Capertee Valley, but this room is always cosy.” It’s here the family got ready for their wedding, and where their children have grown – from playing with blocks on the floor to making cubby houses behind the couch.
Interesting textures and meaningful details pepper the space. “I grew up in Japan and Malaysia, so I wanted the interiors to reflect that,” Bartholomew says. A wool pendant light by Malaysian designer Stephanie Ng is twisted around a branch that was found on the property. The bench seat is upholstered in antique Japanese yukata fabric, patched using sashiko, a visible mending technique. “It’s not showy, but everything has meaning.”
Bartholomew emphasises that their choices are rooted in history, not trends. “It’s about our family histories – things we’ve collected, things we’ve found. That’s what makes it feel like home.” Outside, the garden echoes this thoughtful approach. “There were no plants when we moved in, except for a grapevine on the balcony. We planted every tree ourselves,” Bartholomew says. “It’s been slow but incredibly rewarding. The garden feels like an extension of the wider landscape, spilling beyond the fence line instead of stopping at it.”
Meanwhile, Varcoe has transformed the 100-acre property with sustainable, regenerative efforts. “He’s planted more than 6000 trees, introduced dung beetles to enrich the soil and uses natural sequence farming to build resilience to weather fluctuations,” Bartholomew explains. “The whole farm is designed to be sustainable. It’s our way of giving back – to leave the land better than we found it.”
Though Warramba operates as a holiday rental, it never feels impersonal. “There are no family photos or personal effects that make you feel like you’re staying in someone else’s home,” Bartholomew says. “Everything is practical, durable and considered.” The realities of country living come with their own stories. “In the early days, we camped inside. Neil drank rainwater straight from the tap – not realising a cedar tree was poisoning the tank – and he started hallucinating and became violently ill,” Bartholomew laughs.
They also ran out of money for flyscreens. “We didn’t think we’d need them until the midges arrived. We had to move from room to room at night, lights off, trying not to get eaten alive. We installed screens very quickly after that.” There have been other memorable moments, too – a green tree frog living in the toilet, a mouse plague and termites eating the wood floors. “There’s always something to fix in the country,” Bartholomew says.
After a health scare last year – Bartholomew revealed her diagnosis of chronic myeloid leukaemia on Sunrise and now takes a daily tablet to manage the condition – her relationship with the farm and her approach to time shifted. “We used to rush up here, tick off 100 jobs, then rush back. Now we slow down. We walk, talk and rest. We really see it.” Phones go in a box by the door, and guests return year after year, often saying it’s the one place they feel truly grounded.
Bartholomew’s advice for anyone dreaming of restoring an historic country home? “Forget the rules. Some of the most beautiful country homes are colourful, chaotic and totally unexpected. Warramba’s muted and calm, but if I did another one, it would probably be the opposite. There really are no rules anymore. You make your own.”
See the full story in the new issue of marie claire Lifestyle, on sale now
Related stories
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
