If the idea of barges conjures images of cold, cramped, twee living quarters, think again. Lee Thornley, founder of Bert & May – best known for its vintage tiles but expanding rapidly – has designed an elegant, uncluttered barge that, apart from the low ceilings, wouldn’t look out of place in a Copenhagen apartment block.
The 46ft-long “city barge” is clad inside with whitewashed reclaimed timber and has underfloor heating, a wood-burning stove, a marble-top kitchen and vintage furniture bought from auction houses in Denmark. A skylight brightens the interior, the bathroom is clad in Moorish, geometric tiles, and a linen curtain separates the bedroom from the living quarters. It’s moored on Regent’s canal in east London, behind the Bert & May warehouse.
“I needed somewhere to live, close to work, for the few days a week I’m in London,” says Thornley, 34, who spends the rest of his time in Yorkshire with his wife, Amelia, and children, Lyla, five, and Iris, one (when he’s back at home, he rents out the barge). “So I built myself what I think is the ultimate pad.” He was fed up with the cost of renting and staying in hotels. “And London property prices are just too high even for those of us on a reasonable salary”
“You wouldn’t have a clue that you’re in a city. And there’s more of a community than you might think: I’ve already had people from the boats opposite over for drinks. The only downside is the lack of privacy – I get woken by the ding-ding of bells as cyclists ride along the towpath.”
Instead of renovating an old barge, Thornley started from scratch, partly to ensure that it stays warm in winter. As well as the underfloor heating and wood burning stove – which was so heavy that extra concrete had to be added to the opposite side of the boat to counterbalance the weight – the boat is insulated on all sides. His barge stands out because of its tiled roof terrace. “Barges usually have a curved roof, and to engineer a flat one wasn’t easy. I built railings around it and then realised that the reason barges are a certain height is to fit under bridges. I had to redo them so they can be folded down.”
For the interior, stylist Laura Fulmine completed the pared-down look with wall-mounted monochrome plates from Darkroom, polished brass disc lights from Atelier Areti, and a geometric rug by Larusi in the living area. And with clever space-saving devices – including a fold-down bed behind the dining table, a laundry cupboard hidden behind the master bed, and marble steps into the boat that double as storage space – it’s a lesson in bijou living.
The barge, together with a series of prefabricated, timber-clad box homes reminiscent of upmarket chalets, is Thornley’s first step towards a grander plan to “make prefab housing cool” – and affordable. A barge similar to Thornley’s will set you back £130,000 before mooring costs(see panel below). The boxes start at £150,000: “There’s a piece of land on the canal bank here that isn’t being used: our intention is to put four of them on a floating platform.”
It’s all a long way from the reclaimed tile business Thornley set up from his Yorkshire garage four years ago, after returning from a stint living in Andalusia, Spain. Having quit his job as a barrister, he moved there to learn the language, met Amelia on the first day, and eight weeks later they bought a flat together. Shortly after that, they built a small hotel, Casa la Siesta, using recycled materials. “I sourced the antique tiles, the marble, the stone pillars. Everyone who came to the hotel said the aesthetic was really lovely, so when I moved back to England, I set up Bert & May.”
These days, Thornley goes on around five salvaging trips a year; the rest of the time he has a team in France and Spain who scout for him. “When we hear there’s a demolition taking place, I get sent images of the building and have to almost gamble as to what I think is going to be in there. I can’t cherry pick, I have to buy the whole building. Sometimes it’s horrendous; you think there’s going to be a beautiful floor underneath the rubbish porcelain tiles, and actually it’s just rubbish porcelain tiles.”
Alongside sourcing originals, Bert & May produces its own tiles, and will soon make wallpapers and fabrics. If Thornley’s quest to make city living affordable takes off, we may be seeing even more of him.
Living on water: hidden costs
A mooring is either managed by the navigation authorities or privately. The former can cost between £1,500 and £12,000 annually, depending on the location; you bid on the rent you’d be prepared to pay. Private costs vary – recently there was a £2,000 mooring for sale in York: Thornley pays £9,000 a year for his. If you don’t have a mooring, you can “continuously cruise”, which involves moving the boat every two weeks.
Interest rates on marine mortgages are around 3% higher than standard mortgages. All boats need a licence from the relevant waterway authority (from £150 to £1,100 from the Canal & River Trust, which manages Regent’s canal, for example, depending on the length of a boat). A boat safety certificate (a bit like an MOT) is required every four years. It costs about £150.
Third-party insurance is about £200 (not including contents insurance). If it’s your main residence, you also pay council tax. And every few years it must be dry docked and repainted, costing about £2,000 (not including the transportation cost).
