From Neglected House to Homestay: Designer Revives 100-YO Home With 90% Recycled Materials

A neglected farmhouse in Chachogi became a living example of Himalayan heritage instead of being replaced. Designer Vijyendra Thakur bought the century-old building while researching Kathkuni architecture for his Master’s in Social Design. The restoration aimed to keep both the structure and the knowledge connected to it alive.

The mud-plastered house was retained, while its interiors were adapted for contemporary use. Recycled materials supplied about 90% of the restoration. Salvaged wood and reused river stones helped preserve the building’s original character. Old verandas were reinforced rather than removed. Modern additions include solar water heating, rocket-stove central heating, natural insulation, hydroponic growing, and modern bathrooms.

Today, the farmhouse allows travellers to stay inside a working example of traditional architecture. Through ART Village Naggar, visitors can explore the village, cook traditional food, and learn about local building practices. This turns accommodation into cultural exchange and gives the old house a continuing role in community life.

Kathkuni is a traditional Himalayan construction technique used for nearly 1,000 years. Its walls are built from alternating layers of timber and stone. The method matters because it creates strong structures without relying on mortar, cement, or metal fasteners. It also preserves local building knowledge and materials.

The timber and stone layers are locked together through wooden joinery. These interlocked connections hold the wall as a unified structure while allowing some movement. The technique is visible in buildings such as Naggar Castle, which survived the devastating 1905 Kangra earthquake. Its survival helped demonstrate the value of this older construction system.

Kathkuni is therefore more than a visual style. It is a practical response to Himalayan conditions, especially earthquakes. However, the tradition began declining as concrete became linked with modernity. Restoration projects such as the farmhouse in Chachogi show how the technique can remain useful while supporting modern comfort and contemporary use.

The restoration used recycled materials on an unusually large scale: about 90% of the work relied on reused or salvaged resources. This choice reduced the need for new materials and connected the project to the farmhouse’s local setting. Discarded materials were given a second life rather than treated as waste.

Old wood was salvaged, and river stones were reused in the restored building. Most importantly, the century-old mud-plastered structure was retained instead of replaced. The old verandas also remained. They were reinforced for safety and continued use, but their original character was preserved. These decisions protected the house’s visible history as well as its construction identity.

The project shows that restoration can conserve both material and meaning. It does not require erasing an old building to make it useful. By combining reused resources with careful repairs, the farmhouse became suitable for modern guests while remaining recognisably traditional. Its continued use also keeps Kathkuni knowledge visible to residents and travellers.

Kathkuni buildings handle earthquakes differently from rigid masonry structures. Brittle walls tend to resist movement until they crack or fail. Kathkuni construction is more flexible, so the building can move with seismic forces rather than behaving as one stiff, breakable mass. This flexibility is the central reason the technique matters in earthquake-prone Himalayan regions.

Its key mechanism is the interlocked joint system. Alternating timber and stone layers are connected through wooden joinery. These joints hold the structure together while allowing controlled movement. The 1905 Kangra earthquake provided a dramatic test: the quake devastated the region, but Naggar Castle, built in the Kathkuni tradition, survived. The article presents this survival as evidence of the method’s resilience.

Kathkuni does not eliminate earthquake risk, but its design offers a different response to shaking. Its value is both historical and practical. As restoration and new projects continue around Chachogi, the technique can remain part of local building knowledge instead of being lost to concrete construction.

Kathkuni homes declined as concrete became associated with modernity. The article does not describe a technical failure of Kathkuni. Instead, it shows a change in social preference. Concrete came to represent progress and contemporary living, while older local methods were increasingly overlooked. This shift threatened a building tradition used in the Himalayas for nearly 1,000 years.

The contrast is striking because Kathkuni has practical strengths. Its timber and stone layers are connected with wooden joinery, without mortar, cement, or metal fasteners. The interlocked joints allow movement during earthquakes. Naggar Castle’s survival during the destructive 1905 Kangra earthquake demonstrates the method’s resilience. Yet proven performance alone did not prevent the style from losing popularity.

The Chachogi restoration suggests that attitudes can change. Thakur says some locals who once preferred concrete have begun viewing Kathkuni differently. Four to five Kathkuni projects are now underway around Chachogi, alongside roughly 30 concrete builds. The tradition is still outnumbered, but it is no longer invisible.

The restoration followed an alternative to demolition and replacement. Instead of removing the traditional farmhouse, Thakur retained its century-old mud-plastered structure. This preserved the building’s historic fabric and allowed its Kathkuni character to remain visible. The goal was to make the house useful today without cutting it off from its past.

Modern needs were addressed inside and around the existing structure. The restored home includes solar water heating, rocket-stove central heating, natural insulation, hydroponic growing, and modern bathrooms. The old verandas were reinforced for practical use, but their original character was kept. Interiors changed, while the building’s historic identity stayed intact.

This approach treats heritage as something that can be lived in, not merely displayed. The farmhouse now welcomes travellers and demonstrates how traditional architecture can accommodate contemporary comfort. It also supports local knowledge by keeping Kathkuni construction visible. The project offers a model for adapting old buildings rather than automatically replacing them with concrete.

Heritage-based tourism can support a village when visitors spend time engaging with local life instead of only passing through. Thakur’s idea is that tourism should add value to the village. That value can include income, attention for local buildings, and renewed respect for knowledge that might otherwise disappear. The approach connects preservation with everyday use.

At ART Village Naggar, visitors can explore the village, learn about local architecture, cook traditional food, and experience life beyond the usual tourist circuit. They can also stay in the restored century-old farmhouse. The building itself becomes part of the learning experience. Its retained structure, traditional materials, and modern adaptation show how heritage can remain useful.

This model may influence future choices. Thakur says locals who once preferred concrete have begun looking at Kathkuni differently. Four to five Kathkuni projects are underway around Chachogi, although about 30 new concrete builds are also underway. Tourism cannot guarantee preservation, but it can make traditional buildings and skills valuable again.