Salt Pavilion
Salt Pavilion was the architect's own house for nine years. He wanted a building that disappeared in the afternoon, when the light came in flat from the west and the whole pavilion turned the colour of the sand.
It still does that. The kitchen opens to a deck the size of a small room. The pool is shallow and warm by noon. There is one armchair that everyone fights for, and a record player that still works.
"The kind of quiet you stop noticing after a day."
"The pavilion turns the colour of the sand at four. By five, you've stopped noticing the time."
Where you'll be.
Britannia Bay is a thin curl of houses above a long, white beach. There is no shop, no traffic light, and only one road in.
The deck steps down to the sand in twelve paces. The bay is shallow for a hundred metres; the water warms by noon. Walk south for an hour and you'll meet no one.
Paternoster, with its restaurants and its harbour, is fifteen minutes by car. We recommend leaving it for one evening.
Mornings
The bay is glass at seven. Bicycles by the door. A long ride down the beach road, breakfast back at the house.
Afternoons
The shallow pool warms by noon. The one armchair by the window is fought for politely, then settled.
Evenings
The west-facing glass takes the sun straight on. Outdoor fire, a bottle of red, the record player still working after eleven years.
Everything in place.
- +Solar-heated pool
- +Outdoor fireplace
- +Vintage record player
- +Direct beach access
- +Chef's kitchen
- +Fully glazed front facade
- +Indoor-outdoor shower
- +Ceiling fans, sea-cooled
- +Bicycles for guests
- +Stocked pantry on arrival
- +Concierge on call
- +Underground parking for four