The Manor at Johnstown

Located in historic Johnstown, nestled on the undulating bosom of the Allegheny Mountains in southwestern Pennsylvania, The Manor at Johnstown is a charming bed and breakfast that promises to intrigue, enchant, and inspire. Guests are enveloped by Walter Myton's architectural wonderment, in this 4,000 square foot, 1916 Queen Anne Victorian fortress, heralded by many as the "Fallingwater of the 21st Century." Whether lounging on her chic, cosmopolitan furnishings or asphyxiated by The Manor's many amenities, guests enjoy endless escapes from the doldrums of life and privacy ensured by utter obscurity.

But when adventure is to be had or you've simply grown weary of the sights, sounds, and smells of unnerving and unending renovation, the bustling cultural Mecca of downtown Johnstown awaits. While ambling through the city streets, discover for yourself why Self Magazine ranked Johnstown Number One* in 2002. The Johnstown pages include some of the more popular diversions that entertain Johnstowners (aka, Townies) and out-of-towners alike, a grammatical guide to facilitate successful interaction with locals, and helpful hints about wining, dining, and supining in the region.

Though countless hotels, motels, inns, lodges, cottages, timeshares, lesser B&Bs, and vacant crackhouses canvas the countryside and provide alternative—often more attractive—lodging, The Manor's rustic yet refined style will exceed your expectations and leave you counting the days until your next visit and, quite possibly, your next tetanus shot. Whether traveling for business, pleasure, or simply lost in the neighborhood trying to score some crack, you will not soon forget your visit to The Manor at Johnstown.

*Johnstown was ranked "Unhappiest Place to Live in the United States" by Self Magazine in October 2002

Comments

Dental Weekly raves of The Manor at Johnstown, "TMJ—it's no longer just a painful and debilitating osteopathic disorder of the jaw!"

Guests ejaculate, "All over the place I've looked for a B&B as charming as The Manor and I haven't found one yet."

Local restaurateurs entice, "Pennsyltucky 'possum-it's what's for dinner!"

The fire marshal admonishes, "This poorly wired wood pile is a fire looking for a place to burn!"

Burglars bellow, "We broke in but there wasn't nothing worth taking."

And Townies exclaim, "Alls this crackhouse needs done is some aluminum siding and she'll be real purty. Yinz will love it more than Mama's pierogis!"

From Strumpets to Crumpets: Bed and Breakfast Beginnings

The thriving bed and breakfast industry, so popularized in the 20th Century that it almost seems a child of the current era, in fact has its naissance in antiquity, having been established as the second oldest profession in the world. For millennia the oldest "professionals" of the oldest profession have faced discrimination and displacement by generations of younger, up-and-coming courtesans. While spurious allegations and attractive illusions of "more experienced" or "real" women still linger today, even alcohol and good lighting cannot a troll an attractive trollop make. It was thus without wonder that bedraggled whores, time worn and rife with sores, unable to entice men's nuts began competing for their guts.

No longer discarded in their senescence by the back of a swift pimp hand, these copiously curved faded flowers began re-emerging with kitchen employment and veritable immortality. Offering hot meals in lieu of once-hot bodies, as ladies of the morning supplanted ladies of the night the bed and breakfast cottage industry was conceived. Illegitimate and ignoble in its infancy, the bastard child of worn-out sheets and cream of wheat, the B&B cult endured centuries of discrediting mars. Yet as B&Bs distanced themselves from brothels—with the crumpet replacing the strumpet on many menus and as "pigs in a blanket" became but a culinary metaphor instead of a two-fer with a couple big girls—bed and breakfasts have garnered respect and flourished like a raging case of syphilis throughout the ages.