Highland House
It took a little arm-twisting to get Philadelphian Dave Ripoli to Cape May. But once he came, he never wanted to leave.
Many times over the years a childhood friend urged Ripoli to visit the island, saying, “’Cape May, Cape May, Cape May, it’s the best.’ But I didn’t go.” In the 1990s, once more, she suggested a weekend jaunt. “And I thought, ‘If I don’t say yes this time, I’ll never be invited again.’”
Long story short, he came, he saw, he fell in love with the island, and almost immediately, started looking for a second home here.
A local realtor pitched one cottage, but the medical accountant was intrigued by another: a tumbledown bungalow in West Cape May, with a porch “so badly rotted, you could see daylight through the slats.” For all its challenges, the circa 1855 house also had its charms, including a garden thick with trees, shrubs, and flowers—a miniature Eden that had actually been featured in magazines.
Ripoli bought the property known as Highland House, began a stem-to-stern renovation, and, with no relevant prior experience, decided to join the ranks of Cape May innkeepers.
It was not without its mishaps. Ripoli had just settled on the property and was far from putting out the welcome mat when his first visitors, a honeymooning couple from Canada, informed him they were on the way—a full month before the planned bed-and-breakfast was ready. “So, I had to make a room appear.”
With the help of friends, “We got one room presentable, cleaned it, painted it, and made it livable. We got it done in one weekend and started with that.” The honeymooners gave Ripoli the guest book that visitors still sign. “Thirty years later,” he says, “I hope they’re still together.”
Over time, he continued the renovations, pulling down walls, discovering original features like arched doorways, and adding more rooms, including five baths. He made special provisions for his mother, Terry, who visited after a hip replacement and, like her son, decided to stay.
What really sets Highland House apart is that each of the six guest rooms and suites are pet-friendly—a departure from Ripoli’s initial plan to offer a single room for pet owners. “Growing up, my whole family were animal lovers, and it was such an immediate need [for tourists]. It just kind of snowballed.”
He’s gone all-in with the animal-friendly theme; the B&B is filled with dog and cat prints, pillows, curtains, statuary, figurines, and assorted bric-a-brac. Guests at the front door are reminded to “Wipe Your Paws,” and each of the rooms is equipped with designated dog sheets and other pet necessities.
This is no grand hotel, as Ripoli is quick to point out. “There were times after I bought this, I’d feel intimidated to go to other inns, because a lot of them are super fancy and filled with antiques. I’d think, ‘I could never be that.’
“But then again, they could never be me. I do appreciate and admire that grand architecture, and I can see it, but I can’t be it.”
Relaxation is the top note at this establishment, with décor the owner describes as “country comfort.” It has attracted a core group of repeat visitors who enjoy the low-key, no-worries attitude.
In fact, in August 2011, after Hurricane Irene caused local flooding and electrical outages, the regulars called to ask if they could still come down. “I said, ‘I have no power, just a generator, so if you come, we can give you one extension cord per room.’ You know what? They still came. It was one of the nicest times, because everybody just sat outside late into the day, talking.” The inconveniences were unimportant.
The garden is still the showplace. Ripoli has beautified it over the years, adding arborvitae, a plum tree, and a blueberry bush. There are rustic seating arrangements here and there, a gazebo with twinkling lights, a vine-covered trellis, and abundant ferns and flowers, timed to bloom most of the year.
“In early spring, the daffodils and crocuses pop up, along with late-blooming tulips that line the walkway,” says Ripoli. As soon as the tulips are done, the irises come into bloom. “In July and August, I have geraniums and crape myrtle trees that flower along the front sidewalk. September is usually when I plant the bulbs for the spring.
“On Mother’s Day every year, I also plant lots of vegetables and herbs—tomatoes, peppers, basil, thyme, oregano, cilantro. It’s a tradition Mom and I started ages ago, and a nice way of thinking of her on that day.”
Breakfast includes the staples—cereal, fruit salad, coffee, tea—as well as a hot dish. On a recent visit, the inn served a tomato bacon omelet with a stuffed potato and cheese; returning guests often request the spinach mushroom quiche or sausage casserole.
As for visiting pets, “I’ve had everything,” says Ripoli. “Ferrets, dogs, ducks … One guest always brings bunnies. But no reptiles yet.” Then there are the resident animals, including an energetic poodle pup named Toffee and an aging patriarch of a cat named Max.
All the guests, two- and four-legged, are invited to make themselves at home, says Ripoli.“It’s totally casual here. I want you to feel you’re at your own place—your home away from home.”
