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lu-undy · 4 years ago

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Request #5

"Mundy goes to the pool on a hot day and a certain someone catches his eye, and that certain someone is eating an ice cream veeeery suggestively." Here it is!

"Hey, Snipes! Come and have a swim!"

The Aussie grumbled from his plastic lounging chair.

It was a day off for the mercenaries and it was one of those days where a pool would do everyone some good. Luckily enough, that was where all the mercenaries were, in a pool! Of course the Administrator wasn't ready to privatise the place for them so there were other people around and in the pool itself.

Sniper was lazily lying on a chair, his hat on his face, somewhere between asleep and awake. Relaxing. He was just taking a break off work and let his mind swim free, as his skin sizzled under the sun.

He thought about the previous days of battles, what he did, what he could have done better - being a professional doesn't mean being perfect. The background noises of people's chatter and lapping sounds of the water provided him the perfect acoustic space for his thoughts to fly free.

It obviously smelt of chlorine but sometimes, as someone passed in front of him, Sniper would pick up a faint smell of sunscreen or even sometimes their perfume. It would mostly happen with women, rarely with men.

Sniper took a deep breath and decided to look around. He pushed the hat away from his face and rubbed his face and eyes, before opening his eyelids. Thank God for his sunglasses, the white pool reflected the light like aluminium itself…!

The Aussie looked down at himself as he put his hat back on his head, and he adjusted his posture on his seat. Yeah, the sun was starting to leave its print on him as he could see down his navy blue, Australia flag, swimming shorts that a tan line started to appear.

"Hm." He nodded to himself and crossed his hands on his chest. He took the beer that was on the floor next to him, in the shadow of his chair and took a few lazy sips, just to wet his lips.

Sniper let his eyes scan the crowd, in the pool first. Most of his colleagues were there. Soldier, Demoman, Scout, Pyro and Engineer, without his goggles for once. They seemed to enjoy their time greatly in the water. Soldier even seemed to have made friends with the children there, while of course being supervised by Demoman.

"What is this, private?" He asked, holding a ball in his hand.

"A ball, Sir!" The kids answered.

"No, you maggots! This is a cannon ball and you must use it to destroy your enemies! Do you understand this?!"

"Sir! Yes, Sir!" The kids answered, saluting.

"And who are the enemies?!"

"Commies, Sir!"

"Soldier, mate, this is-"

"Shush! Demoman! We need to educate the young ones! These are the defenses for tomorrow's America! And by God, I won't let an Englishman with a dress stop this!" Soldier turned to the kids. "See, privates? These are the kinds of threats to America! And what do we do when we see a threat to America?"

"We attack, Sir!" The kids shouted back.

"Yeeeeah!" Soldier answered. "Now let's attaaaack!"

"But… Sir?" A little kid was raising his hand.

"Yes, private?"

"You told us to raise our shovels and attack but we have no shovels here. Does that mean we will lose?" The poor little child asked, distraught.

"Listen, son. A fine soldier doesn't need shovels to fight. Who needs shovels, weapons or college-taught strategies when you love the stars and stripes?! I have crapped losses worse than that and look at you! Your simple existence is proof that we will win. As long as America exists, we will win! Do you understand, private?

"Uh… No, I don't really-"

"Then ATTAAACK!"

The children didn't hesitate and started chasing Demoman down in the pool.

Sniper rolled his eyes with a smile, behind his aviator glasses. His eyes then swept across the chairs around the pool. Ah, there were Medic and Heavy, sitting side and by side and chatting with a beer in their hands. Good for them.

The rest of the crowd was made of strangers, men, women and children.

"Ice cream?"

Sniper's head swooshed to whoever was talking to him. It was a man who seemed to sell different kinds of ice-creams.

"Nah, thanks, mate."

The man nodded and pushed his little-trolley stand along. Sniper's eyes followed him for a while until his mind realised that something was wrong.

Where was Spy?

The Aussie looked in the pool again but no one was wearing a mask. His eyes then snapped to the crowd but again, no one around the pool was wearing a mask. And he knew Spy wouldn't remove it. Last time they had gone to the beach, he had kept it all along, under the parasol.

Ha, now that he thought back about it, Sniper smiled. It had been a more pleasant experience than he had anticipated. He had ended up sharing most of his afternoon with Spy, chatting about anything, surprisingly enough. They had gone through wildly different topics from food, drinks, with a long bit about wines and beers, which then led to gardening of all things and childhood souvenirs of stealing fruits in neighbours' gardens…

Yeah, it had been nice, Sniper thought, and he certainly hadn't expected the Frenchman to be that talkative. Of course, on a scale from Administrator-talkative, to Scout-talkative, Spy was closer to the former. But his inputs in the discussion captured Sniper's interest and tickled his curiosity. He also discovered that Spy was as good at answering as he was at listening. He could fall silent and absorb whatever Sniper would say with keen attention.

Shame he wasn't anywhere near. A cold beer, the sun and a good chat were a great combo for Sniper's morale. But he shall do without the good chat…

His gaze went back to the ice-cream vendor and he saw a man buy one before leaning back on his chair. He was sitting at the opposite end of the pool, almost exactly face to face with Sniper. The man had paler skin than Sniper's and was wearing a pair of black sunglasses.

What caught Sniper's eyes was the ridiculous speedos that he was wearing, dark blue, with a little logo that the Aussie couldn't see from where he was. Speedos… Who the hell wore those? Well apparently that mad guy did.

Sniper squinted and stared. To be honest, that man could afford it and it did his body a few favors… He had a lean chest with what looked like salt and pepper chest hair, a stomach thinner than Sniper's, and he could clearly see a sharply drawn V-line diving to the swim wear. He gulped and his eyes moved back up.

He had short, salt and pepper hair too. A lighter lock at the front, above his forehead and on his temples. The rest was black. Sniper couldn't say much apart from the fact that he looked quite handsome and his posture on the chair clearly showed that he knew it.

Slim and elegant bastard even with speedos…

Sniper watched as a group of women passed him, he lowered his sunglasses and winked at them. They chuckled and covered their mouths with their hands.

What a bastard… Didn't have more to do than a wink to get a sheila.

They walked away and the man pushed his glasses up, resting them on his head, through his hair before starting to savour his ice-cream. By the colour of it, it must have been vanilla, or lemon, something white-ish.

Sniper stared longer as the man raised his eyes in his direction and started licking the ice-cream.

The Aussie gulped.

Was he looking at him, straight? How did he know that Sniper was watching him at that distance and with the yellow aviators hiding his eyes…?

Gosh, was he really-?

The man stuck his tongue out and lasciviously dragged it along the white, cold ice-cream, all while maintaining eye-contact with him?

What the hell does he want? How does he know that-? Oh, God…

Now, he was licking the cone from the side all the way up and a vicious smirk appeared on his lips.

Sniper looked left and right. The seats next to him were empty. Ah, yeah, he had chosen that spot both because it was in the sun and also precisely because no one was there… Ah… He removed his hat and fanned himself with it.

Meanwhile, the man with the light blue eyes staring at him continued his show and licked his ice-cream, cocking an eyebrow before taking it in his mouth and pulling the creamy snack into a cone shape. His lips were covered in white which he promptly licked, and Sniper's guts flipped inside himself. He quickly looked at his shorts and it started to show...

Bugger… He sweated and gritted his teeth.

Sniper slammed his hat on his lap to hide what his body betrayed. And breathed deep.

C'mon, he couldn't be doing that to him, could he? But there was no one around and - oh, bloody hell, oh God damnit…

Still with a smirk on his lips, the man stood up and let the sunglasses fall on his eyes. He went on licking the God forsaken ice cream as he walked around the pool. Sniper’s body temperature rose sharply. He didn’t know if he preferred the man to come to him or pass him and not even give him a look.

Sniper’s eyes were stuck, his heart was pounding in his chest and he tried to bury himself in his chair as deep as he could. The silhouette of the man kept on getting bigger and bigger. Sniper closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. He counted the time and pricked his ears to better hear the footsteps. He heard it stop and he heard the wicker of the chair next to him creak.

Sniper’s eyebrows twitched as he kept pretending he was asleep.

“Good choice of beer.”

The Aussie’s eye snapped open as he recognised the voice with the French accent. He looked around him, Spy was nowhere to be seen.

“And no need to pretend you are asleep, Bushman. A child would fake it better than you do.”

Sniper’s jaw dropped. The man next to him, with the bottle of beer that Sniper had been drinking from in his hand, was that the man who had just spoken?

“Here, some ice-cream could do you some good.” He handed him the ice cream and astounded as he was, Sniper held it in his hand, absent-mindedly.

“Is that you?” Sniper asked as the man on the lounging chair next to him lay completely down and put the bottle to his lips again, taking a sip.

“Who do you mean?” He grinned smugly.

“Bloody hell, it is! What happened to your mask? What the…?”

“And what happened to your hat?” Spy asked, smirking behind his black sunglasses. “Why is it not on your head? The sun might get to your pale skin, Bushman.” He said in irony.

"Holy dooley, Spook you-you scared the hell out of me! I thought it was a random bloke starin' at me with his ice-cream."

"So you are reassured that it is in fact, me?" Spy asked. "Oh, be careful, the ice cream is melting."

Sniper looked in his hand and realised that indeed it was flowing on the cone. He stuck his tongue out and licked it before he stopped sharp and realised what he was doing.

"Hold on, that's your ice cream and my beer."

"Well, I guess we will have to avoid telling Soldier that we share them. With his allergy to communism, he might be angry at us both."

"What're you doin'?" Sniper gave him back his ice-cream and took his beer from Spy's hand. "And d'you have an idea how you were eatin' that ice-cream? I could see you all the way from here, 's not decent, Spy."

"You should have seen at what speed you turned crimson. Besides, which is not decent? My eating of this ice-cream or your covering yourself with your hat?"

Sniper grumbled and frowned.

"Come on, Sniper. It was all done in good fun."

"Ice-cream?" The vendor was back.

"Oui, please, for my grumpy friend."

Sniper exhaled from his nostrils like an angry bull.

"What flavour?"

“Something different from mine, please.”

Spy paid for it and the ice-cream man left the two colleagues alone.

“Here, to cool you down.”

Sniper turned his head and saw the Frenchman handing him the cone. He sighed and accepted it.

“You are welcome, Sniper.”

“Mh.” The grumble was the only answer that Spy received.

Both of them stayed mute for a while. They finished their ice creams while watching people come and go. The families with children were the first to leave, when the kids were tired out and hungry. A group of women came to pass by. Sniper watched his colleague from the corner of his eyes.

“Mesdames...” He pulled down his sunglasses and slid one leg on the other. The ladies in question blushed and chuckled at the French womanizer.

[Ladies...]

Sniper rolled his eyes and looked away.

About half an hour later, Scout came to him.

“Yo, Snipes, uh, Engie sent me to tell you we were off, you comin’?”

“Nah.”

“Oh, ok… Uh, have you seen Spy? We’ve been lookin’ for him but no one’s seen him for ages.”

Spy, who was right next to Sniper, listened carefully.

“Don’t worry about him.”

“Well, Engie’s kinda worried cause-”

“I said: don’t worry about him.”

Scout had obviously felt the animosity in Sniper. He nodded and left him in peace. Soon after, a lifeguard came to both men.

“We are about to close, gentlemen.”

“Ah, I wanted to ask you something, if I may.” Spy stood up and walked with the lifeguard, away from Sniper, along the pool. When he came back, the lights in the building were switching off, leaving only the ones in the pool itself.

Sniper stood up and collected his empty bottle.

“Where are you going?”

“You heard the guy, they’re closing.”

“Oui, they are.” Spy resumed his seat and lay back as comfortably as before, if not more. He removed his sunglasses from his nose and put them aside.

Sniper started walking away and stopped sharp. He turned to Spy and sighed.

“Aren’t you gonna get out?”

“Non.”

“Spy, they’re gonna kick you out.”

“Non, they will not.”

“C’mon, stop bein’ an arse and come along.”

“Take a seat.” Spy invited his colleague and Sniper obeyed, not without rolling his eyes to the sky.

“Now they’re gonna kick us both.”

“Non, they will not.” Spy insisted.

“Yeah, they will, you heard the lifeguard guy.”

“I did, and proceeded to convince him to leave me the keys.”

“What?”

“You heard me. There is only you and me here. Now, relax please, and let us enjoy one of those conversations. I believe we were left with you telling me about your neighbours’ apricots and how you used to steal them when you were a child.”

“Spy.” Sniper was much more serious than his colleague.

“Oui?”

The only noises around them were the lapping of the water as it flowed to the filtering pumps, rumbling away.

“Why did you do what you did with your ice-cream?”

“Because I had my doubts.” Spy answered.

“About what?”

“It does not matter, I am now sure.”

The air cooled down as the night progressed.

“Sure of what? What did you want to know? You could’ve just asked.” Sniper lay back and crossed his arms on his chest.

Spy stood up and walked to the edge of the pool. He dipped a toe, then two and slightly nodded before taking a little step back, raising his arms, joining his hands and elegantly dived in. Sniper’s eyes never left the silhouette of the slim man who now surfaced again, fluidly breaking the surface tension of the water. Spy wiped the water away from his face, and carded his wet hair back, he was beautifully lit by the turquoise water.

“Come on, join me.” Spy gestured to Sniper. “The water is deliciously warm.”

“Tell me first. What did you wanna know?”

Spy moved to the edge of the swimming-pool and crossed his arms that he rested at the edge of it.

“I was wondering if, perchance, you were cursed similarly to me.”

Sniper walked to the edge of the pool and sat down, his legs in the water up to his knees.

“What d’you mean?”

The Frenchman held his hand out and Sniper stared at it, before his eyes rose to Spy’s irises. He could see the waving patterns of the water on his already light blue eyes. Sniper raised his hand and it floated above Spy’s for an instant before he dropped it in it. The Frenchman nodded in thanks and Sniper entered the pool fully. He dived in and when he surfaced again, he opened his eyes to the sight of Spy looking up to him. He blushed.

“What did you mean, Spook?”

Spy gave a lopsided grin.

“The way you stared and blushed while I was having my ice-cream.” Spy started. “And then, your covering of your lap. I was asking a question and your body answered without your lips having to.”

Sniper’s cheeks and ears burnt. He frowned and walked back to the edge of the pool.

“So what now, hm? Gonna use that against me? Gonna blackmail me or something? I don’t have anythin’ to lose.” Sniper gave his back to Spy, the water reached his hips. He put his hands left and right and his fingers were grasping the edge of the pool hard.

“Non.”

Sniper’s eyes snapped wide and his pupils retracted to a dot. He looked down and two arms were laced around him. He could also feel the warmth of Spy’s body leaning against him from behind. Spy was… hugging him?

“I would never.” Spy added and Sniper was now sure. He felt his voice resonate through himself. Spy was resting his head against Sniper’s upper back.

“Spy… I… Hm.” Sniper closed his eyes and took that leap of faith. That mad jump, that reaction that no one expected of him, not even himself. He frowned and raised his hands to hold Spy’s forearms.

“I just wanted to know, if by any stroke of luck, you too felt… comfortable when we were sharing conversations, if you too felt like you wanted more of these discussions, if you too wanted to see me again, soon perhaps?”

“O’course I did.” Sniper answered in a sigh, a hoarse whisper of his voice.

Both were whispering despite nobody else being around to hear them. Sniper turned to face Spy and the Frenchman raised round, kitten-like eyes to him, with a faint smile, but his eyebrows were asking a question, the question that his lips were trembling to ask, but couldn’t. Sniper was simply seized by the view. So that was what Spy looked like under the mask? Yeah, gorgeous and a half, eh. Only man on Earth who could wear a pair of speedos and not look like a mongrel.

Sniper’s hands found Spy’s sides without looking anywhere else but in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man and pulled his naked and wet frame against his own.

“Course, I did.” He repeated before bending his head down for his lips to be in front of Spy’s ear. “You arrogant, posh, unbearable idiot.” Sniper had one hand on Spy’s hair and another on his lower back. “You… You’re gorgeous with and without the mask.”

Spy’s eyes shone brighter and he smiled.

“Merci.” He chuckled. “So do you, but I must admit that I prefer you without the glasses or the hat. It feels more… intimate.”

“Yeah, same without yer mask, eh.” Sniper smiled. “Feels special.”

“By the way, thank you for what you said to Scout.” Spy said.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t really know what to say.”

“Still, you did not tell him that I was there next to you. I appreciate your discretion.”

“You’re welcome… C-Can I…?” Sniper’s hand hovered next to Spy’s face.

“Oui, please.”

When his fingertips met the Frenchman’s skin, both men felt shivers like sparks along their spines. Spy closed his eyes and felt Sniper’s finger gently trace his face, discovering it all as if he was a blind man. But no, Sniper was far from blind, he just wanted to confirm that what he was seeing wasn’t a hallucination. No, the man standing in front of him had the most comely features he had seen. A slim face, equally slim cheeks with cheekbones that are jutting just what they should, long dark eyelashes, a slightly hooked nose and thin lips. Gosh those lips…

“I…”

Spy opened his eyes and couldn’t help it but his cheeks turned pink when he saw the way that Sniper’s eyes were crossing down on his lips. He smiled and pushed himself to the tip of his toes.

Sniper’s eyes shut hard and he frowned. He tasted the chlorine on Spy’s lips and oh - vanilla, on his tongue.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy

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architectnews · 4 years ago

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Natalie Dionne raises Forest House I on three-metre stilts for better light and views

Canadian architect Natalie Dionne has completed a forest retreat in southeastern Quebec, which is raised up on stilts to meet the level of the rocky landscape.

Located in the Eastern Townships, around 60 miles southeast of Montreal, Forest House I was designed for a couple looking to live closer to nature.

Forest House I is built on a rocky outcrop in the Eastern Townships

The site they had chosen for their home featured a rocky outcrop, including one particular boulder that rose three metres above ground level.

Both Dionne and the clients agreed that the house should meet the level of this rock, so they designed a house raised up from the ground surface on stilts.

The house is raised three metres to meet the level of the ridge

As a result, more natural light is able to penetrate the living spaces. Also the house can benefit from better views, looking out over the ridge towards the forest landscape beyond.

"Raising the house on pilings is not a big deal," Dionne told Dezeen. "No one would think twice about doing it a couple of feet off the ground."

The additional height improves light and views for the interior

"In our harsh climate, however, you have to figure out how to ensure the continuity of the building envelope from below," she explained.

"At three metres you just have to make certain that the structure is adequately cross braced and that it is as discreet as possible."

Eastern white cedar clads the building's exterior

A desire to make the house environmentally friendly led to the use of wood for much of the house's structure and surfaces.

While concrete and steel was used for the main framework, and particularly the raised elements, the roof is supported by a structure made from engineered wood produced from Northern Québec black spruce.

Meanwhile the facades are cold with eastern white cedar, which has been pretreated to make it more durable, which will also allow it grey faster.

The roof structure is made from engineered spruce

Dionne's aim was for this material to "blend into the landscape like a chameleon sunning itself on a rock".

"Although most Canadian homes are structurally constructed out of wood, we buy into the idea that using sustainably harvested, locally sourced forest products whenever possible contributes positively towards reducing the carbon footprint of any project," she said.

The kitchen islands are among several elements made from solid maple

"When appropriate, we like using prematurely aged local white cedar because, in theory, clients can just forget about it once it is up," she continued.

"In a forest environment such as this, we like the fact that the grey wood makes the home blend into the natural surroundings, thereby minimising the visual impact on the landscape."

A staircase separates the living spaces from the master bedroom

The building contains two storeys, covering an area of 215 square metres, or 2,300 square feet.

The lower level, which takes up just a fraction of the overall footprint, is predominantly an entrance level, although it also contains a guest room containing bunkbeds – room for up to 10 guests to stay.

Surrounding trees give privacy to the master bedroom

Upstairs, the staircase divides the floor into two sections. On one side is the master bedroom suite, which nestles into the trees to the south. The other side contains a large lounge, kitchen and dining space.

Sliding glass doors allow the living space to open out to a large, partially shaded terrace. This terrace extends out to the meet the ridge, allowing the house to feel like part of the landscape.

The master bathroom features a bath tub with a view

Wood is a recurring theme through the interior. The staircase is made from solid maple, as are the kitchen islands and the vanity units in the bedrooms. Other built-in cabinetry is made from Russian plywood.

Other surfaces are more clean and minimal, preventing a log-cabin aesthetic. Floors are polished concrete, while the windows are framed by natural aluminium, another material that is easy to recycle.

A bunk room on the lower level can sleep 10 guests

"The clients love their new home and so do their lucky guests," added Dionne, who also recently completed a renovation of an apartment building in Montreal.

She concludes: "There is something particularly pleasant in the feeling that you are floating above it all as you drift seamlessly between interior and exterior spaces, basking in the light and the tranquility of the forest."

Photography is by Raphaël Thibodeau.

Project credits:

Architects: Natalie Dionne Architecture Design team: Natalie Dionne, Corinne Deleers, Rosemarie Faille-Faubert, and Martin Laneuville Clients: Martine Bleau and Louis Barrière Engineer: Latéral

The post Natalie Dionne raises Forest House I on three-metre stilts for better light and views appeared first on Dezeen.

#Architecture – Dezeen

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summervanlife · 5 years ago

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20 June

Pitter-patter of rain to wake up with always promotes thoughts of how to convert without everyone getting soaked! The rain didn't detract from our location - it just provided a more mystical take on the area. We decided it would be kinder if we vacated our spot before having breakfast. Tesco was our stock up destination and might have become our a reasonably cheap breakfast option but although Nia's ankle was fairing well, she had developed a horrid nausea. So we postponed breakfast once again. By the time we reached the Oban marina carpark Nia was feeling much better, and even more so after a bowl of cereal. Our list of essentials still needed to be sorted. Jay was dispatched for various items including the seasickness prevention tablets and some binoculars for Clare (she is the only one of us to be missing out in that aspect at the moment). Successful in each aspect we made our move to the ferry terminal. Parked up and in the departure lounge, we had the opportunity to watch our ferry return from Barra and dock. The bow parting with the hull, pivoting up to reveal the car deck ramp - just like some of our Lego models! The attendant asked to to be back in the van by 1245hr and we were spot on time ready to hand over our tickets. With a short wait in the van until boarding Jay couldn't resist playing the Coldplay song that has been running through our head like an ear worm for days "Barra, Barra, Barradise..." (Thanks Petchos for planting that seed!!) We were all really excited driving onto the car deck. We packed bags of lunch & games and headed up to the passengers decks. Patrolling the entire ship we plumped for sofa seats at the bow. Cian and Jay found a way to the outside top deck and were able to report back that it was pretty chilly! We sat down for lunch and tucked into 5hrs worth of islands, mist, sunshine, yachts and lighthouses as we cruised down the Sound of Mull - Cian and Nia identifying Cardinal marks as we passed them. The crossing wasn't anywhere near as choppy as we thought it might be. Cian occasionally felt a bit sick but a quick trip out on the top deck soon blew any of those thoughts away. Although we didn't see any dolphins we were privileged enough to have a Gannet fly alongside our window. When it eventually disappeared from sight is was because it had moved above the boat. We went on top deck and saw it just above the bow. It was gliding along at boat speed without a wing beat. The wind was straight on our nose at about 20 knots. The boat was traveling at about 25 knots. That bird was able to fly at boat speed into 45 knots of apparent wind! It must have found the air equivalent of a bow wave and was surfing it. It was cool to watch. The rest of the journey was nice in a peacefully, good to be at sea, sort of a way. Excitement returned as landfall was spotted. The archipelago of the Outer Hebredies was almost eerie as we forged through a few squalls moments apart. Then the sun came, in just enough volume to create changing areas of interest along the shoreline. We began turning to starboard, and as we did so the beautiful town of Castlebay came into view. A church with spire built on the highest point in the village. A decaying fortification on an island in the bay. Red roofs, vibrant greens and a single road snaking up the hillside. Fabulous! Called away from the view to the van, we packed up and decamped. Only a few minutes later we were ashore - The Outer Hebrides! We knew where we wanted to be for our first night. There was a causeway on the south of Barra which took us onto Vatersey. A single track with passing places took us a winding route along the island. Some metal wreckage caught our eye, we recognised them from photos - plane wreckage. A remnant from 1943 when the plane crashed on the island. 4 crew died. The twisted aluminium, wings still recognisable and with original stencilled paintwork remaining legible was incredible to see. We had reversed to park and scrambled though the metalwork. We continued downhill to the sea. Clare spotted a bright electric purple jellyfish and several fish. Nia and Cian tried a few underwater shots - but none really worked out. Continuing along the track we came upon a few suitable lay-bys, choosing the least populated we parked. All of us went for a walk across the dunes westwards we came to the white sands of a windy, beautiful, deserted beach. We reversed our route back to the van. Clare stayed to cook dinner, Jay, Nia and Cian west to check the easterly beach. This one was similar in size but very sheltered from the westerly breeze. We walked for a while before heading back to help dinner preparations. Dinner was noodles with vegetables and beans. Soon we were ready for bed and crossing fingers for sunny weather in the morning.

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ccohanlon · 3 years ago

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not a homecoming

Home is the place where, when you have to go there, They have to take you in Robert Frost, from The Death of the Hired Man I rented the house the way I did most things back then – remotely. I Googled real estate agents in the beachside suburbs north of Sydney and found illustrated listings of available properties online.

There was an older-style, white clapboard, two-storied house overlooking the south end of Palm Beach: two flights of sandstone steps led down from it to the seawater rock pool next to the beach itself. A reasonable rent for the winter was agreed via email, and I wired an advance for a month along with a fee for a weekly cleaning and linen service. The key was left above the front doorframe, a copy of the rental contract slid under the door.

The house was what the agent called a duplex: actually half a house, separate, self-contained, with its own entrance. I had the lower floor; the landlords, an elderly couple who, the agent assured me, used the house no more than a couple of times a month, had the rest. There were two bedrooms, each with a queen-sized bed and aside table, a small living room with a cane two-seater settee, two armchairs and a coffee table, all of Seventies’ vintage, and a narrow galley kitchen next to what used to be called a breakfast nook in which there were a linoleum covered aluminium table and four vinyl-upholstered aluminium chairs. The decor was chintzy retro’, faux- tropical-Fifties’-resort-lounge-meets-American-truck-stop-diner.

But there was the view: from the glass sliding doors that opened onto a terrace that ran the width of the house, I could look out along a kilometre of beach to the lighthouse atop the high, rocky knuckle at the far end of the peninsula and beyond, the national park and beaches on the coast further north, and from north-east to south- east, several miles of uninterrupted ocean horizon.

The house was as temporary and impersonal as a hotel room and that suited me. It was not meant to be a home. In a couple of weeks, only a little more of me would be visible there than when I first arrived.

This was not a homecoming.

‘Home’– or even the sense of place, of belonging, which passed for it – had nothing to do with it. I was born about 10 miles from this house but I grew up everywhere else. If I ever had a home, it was one that I had invented – and I had invented so many over the past forty years that the whole idea of ‘home’ no longer had any meaning for me. The same could be said of a lot of things in my life.

Three days ago, I was waiting for a taxi on the front lawn of the large house in Tulsa, Oklahoma, that I had bought for my wife during one of those infrequent times when I was making a lot of money. I had lived in it with our three kids and her for three years, off and on, without trying to pretend it was our home. Now she wanted me to leave. “What can I believe anymore?” she asked. “I'm so tired of your secrets.”

She had come across some old emails from a Japanese girl whom she had suspected of being my lover. I had last seen the girl at the departure gate at Tokyo’s Narita airport before I boarded a flight for Los Angeles three months ago. “There's been so many secrets, so many things you've never told me – and it hurt so bad,” the Japanese girl had told me then. After she had left me at the airport, she went back to an apartment I rented in Nishi-Azabu, another non-home, and packed her belongings. The secrets she referred to had nothing to do with my wife. I suspected the secrets my wife referred to had nothing to do with the Japanese girl. There was just this continuous white noise of confused or contradictory indications, punctuated by resorbent nulls; it was as if I was trying to elude substance, to become a ghost. Prolonged exposure to it had exhausted them both.

I flew coach on American Airlines to Los Angeles via Dallas, with the thought of staying for a while in a city that sustained itself through its transients. I took a cab to Sunset, and checked into a large room on the third floor of The Standard Hotel, overlooking the pool. Young bodies were arranged around it like MTV extras, sprawling on white plastic lounge chairs scattered across an expanse of blue Astro- turf. One corner was taken over by a photo shoot, and chain-smoking assistants arranged a tripod, lights, battery packs and reflectors as a model, dull-eyed, barely a teenager, suffered the final touch-ups to her make-up. Loud hip-hop and a visceral human hum reverberated within the walls.

I phoned a woman I used to date when I lived in the city. Blonde, in her late twenties, she had played a bit part as a stripper in a Nicholas Cage movie; now she was married, with a nine-month-old baby, her ambition to be an actress fading. We met late that night at a sushi restaurant on Third Street and afterwards, fucked on a silver beanbag in my room. The hotel was now quiet, except for the occasional creak of beds and floorboards in other rooms. The lounge chairs and Astro-turf were empty. An old, ornate, red neon sign atop a Spanish-style apartment block nearby flickered against the starless sky: Mirador.

When she left, it struck me that staying any longer in Los Angeles would be a mistake. It was too easy to re-invent yourself for the moment there; no-one questioned it, and you could forget in an instant who you really were. I had already crossed and re-crossed the fine line between delusion and lie too many times to risk it again.

It was the beginning of the rainy season in Tokyo, sticky and hot. In the eery, pre-apocalyptic stillness that precedes dawn in Los Angeles, I thought of Sydney.

Despite the years I had been on the move, I still found it hard to remember time zones in a conventional way. I relied on short-cuts I had first come up with as a kid being dragged around the world by my parents. If you asked me if Tulsa was sixteen hours behind Sydney, I would tell you something like “It’s eight hours ahead, the day before.” Or “It’s four hours behind, at the opposite end of the day”. It was easier, somehow.

It was midday in Palm Beach, eight in the evening, yesterday, in Tulsa. The kids would be getting ready to go to bed. I wondered whether I should leave it another day before trying to negotiate the trip-wires of my wife’s anger. As in every war, hot zones flared, then subsided into uneasy stand-offs as each side dug in and assessed the attrition. My wife would not attack again, not for a few days; we were both worn out from the last fight, and maybe she was as nervous as I was about pushing the slim chance for peace over an ill-defined brink.

She picked up after several rings, and waited for me to say hello first. I might have been wrong about the possibility of attack.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“I’m here. Just arrived.”

“Yes, but where?”

“Still at the airport. I haven’t figured out what to do yet.”

And there was another of my inexplicable deceptions. I didn’t know why, but I was not ready to tell her about the house, or about my plan to stay for a month or so. She sensed the secretiveness, and it irked her.

“Will you stay with your mother?”

“I don’t know. I’ll call you later and let you know what I’m up to.”

A long pause.

“I’ll get the kids,” she said.

My daughters, aged four and ten, were used to pretending that the harsh words they heard their parents exchange had not happened. They chirruped happy goodnights, and made exaggerated kissing sounds into the handset before passing it to my eleven-year-old son. He was on the verge of tears.

“Hi Dadda. Where are you?”

“Are you OK, son?”

“No.”

“I’m so sorry. I really am.”

“Mum says you’re going to Australia.”

“I’m already here.”

“Are you going to come back?”

“We’ll see each other soon. And I’ll call every day.”

“It’s so hard.”

“I know.”

“Does it have to keep being this way?”

“No. We’ll get through this. Just know I love you, OK?”

“I know. I love you too, Dadda. But come back soon. Please.”

There was nothing more I could say. I had told enough lies for one day. My body was sticky with the accumulated grime of a long day’s travel. I found an old, two-bar electric heater in a hallway closet and set it up to warm the air between my bedroom and the bathroom before I showered and changed my clothes. A faint chemical odour rose from the elements as they reddened.

I studied myself naked in a full-length mirror behind the bedroom door – a brief physical audit of nearly forty-nine years of self-indulgence and neglect. I was morbidly obese. My skin was still elastic, even where it hung in a fold over my hips, but pale and discoloured with age. My cock was receding into a fattening pubis; I could no longer see it over my stomach, except when it was erect. My ankles and knees were swollen and there were striations of cellulite beneath my buttocks. My hands were misshapen with arthritis. My hair was cropped close to my skull but it had become so grey and patchy that it resembled the mottled flesh of a corpse. The rest of my body was overtaken with hair and benign growths. My teeth were yellowing and there was an after-taste of decay beneath my tongue. My eyes were bloodshot, a combination of tiredness and high blood-pressure, and my sight was failing. I had to wear glasses to read anything smaller than 14-point.

It wasn’t pretty, but it was the real me. Like someone with a heart condition who monitored their blood pressure each day, I was disciplined about reality checks. I got a compact camera from my backpack. Still naked, I stood in front of the mirror again and pointed it at my reflection, holding it one-handed just to the right of my chest, my thumb on the shutter release. I exposed three or four frames in the cool, diffused daylight that filled the room.

I printed very few of my photos, although I started taking photographs several years ago to keep track of where I had been, and with whom. It felt, somehow, more reliable than writing a diary and in some ways, it turned out to be a more accurate reflection of the way in which I assembled memories: not so much as a structured narrative but as a collage, or a series of random snapshots. I proofed each roll of 35mm film six frames by six on 10” x 8” glossy paper which I stored with the negatives in large ring binders organized by date. I had left the binders at the house in Tulsa. I was not a photographer, but the images were a way of keeping track, of corroborating what I remembered: this is how it was then.

I showered then dried myself, shivering, in front of the heater. I put on a fresh, black t-shirt and underwear and the same jeans I wore on the ‘plane.

Barefoot, I found sandstone steps down to the beach.

A surfer was paddling seaward on an outgoing rip at the south end of the beach. Clear of the surf, he turned northwards, paddling parallel to the swell to bigger waves peaking on an offshore sandbank and breaking left. He sat upright on his half- submerged board to gauge an incoming set. A wave rose beneath him and just as it was about to rushed past, he turned, pulled his board back between his legs and let buoyancy slingshot its nose down its face. The wave began to hollow and break. The surfer sprang to his feet and with a slight repositioning of his body, drove the board across its throat like a blade. The board slashed through a foaming lip as the wave collapsed. The surfer arched back and kicked the board through an arc of empty air to regain the face. White water tumbled beneath him. It looked like the ride was over, but he rocked the board up and down, pumping it to sustain some momentum until the wave rebuilt over an inshore bank. He rode it to the beach without flourish.

I walked towards the lighthouse, keeping to the damp, compacted sand below the high water mark.

I sat atop the dunes at the far end of the beach, and watched the transmuting surface of the sea. On calmer days, it heaved and undulated like the body of a prehistoric beast at rest, drawing slow breaths, but now its long, sinewy swells thrashed at the fractured reef and high cliffs below the lighthouse as if it was trying to erode the stubborn solidity of the shore.

“There are places you always come back to,” a psychiatrist once told me. “They’re like a refuge or a hideout, somewhere you feel safe.”

Seventeen years ago, I rented another white clapboard house above the ocean. It faced northwards towards this same lighthouse, but from a headland sheltering another beach just a couple of kilometres to the south. I lived in it with another wife.

The real estate agent who showed it to us had warned of its notoriety. A year earlier, the previous tenants, a pair of local drug dealers, had been shot dead on the front doorstep. The walls had since been re-painted and the carpet repaired – but not replaced – where stray steel loads from a 12-gauge shell had torn up the pile. Otherwise, the house had been left untouched. The exterior paint had begun to peel and the garden was overgrown with lantana. But there, again, was the view, and the sibilant rushing of the surf against the sandstone ledges below the headland. The patches of decay could be ignored, along with the ghosts of the murdered dealers. Even then, I had already lived in more houses and apartments than there were years in my life, and that wasn’t counting the houses in which I had spent my childhood years with my family, or the distant boarding schools to which I had been consigned before I was a teenager. I had owned three houses, in three countries. I’d rented the rest and each had been as different as the seven or eight countries in which they were located.

I had never thought of any of them as a ‘home’. A few were the loci of disjointed recollections, like the rundown old house on the headland, but my occupation of most of them, including the houses I had owned, had been deliberately transitory and unsentimental. I rested in them. I re-grouped, recovered or re-invented myself in them. I worked, slept and ate in them. I used them to store my books and clothes. But I rarely ever lived in them. I just didn’t get the idea of settlement. I didn’t get the emotional investment in structures and furnishings and decorations that, together, were supposed to support the idea of ‘home’ with an illusory impression of permanence – for me, all they did was absorb the corrosive residue of the everyday into their surfaces.

Yet I did understand how geography could exert a spiritual hold. It was true: there were places to which I always returned, although not always because they were refuges or hideouts. My migratory patterns were as constant if not quite as predictable or sacramental as those of a traditional nomad, and because I was disinterested in being a tourist, I might re-map the patterns occasionally, diverting them to add a new waypoint or to eliminate an old one, but I didn’t often wander far from them. The slow, unceasing circumnavigation that had occupied my life could be plotted with a series of long rhumb lines from one familiar destination to another.

Which is not to say I was incurious about the rest of the world. It was just that my experience of it was measured, with each place in my personal atlas having a meaning or purpose even before I found my way to it.

Ever since I came back to Australia in my adolescent years, and again in my early twenties, I had been trying to figure out the meaning to me of this small part of it, this long, gnarled finger of suburbanized sub-tropical forest, rock and sand stubbed into the sea. When I was younger, when my days were shaped by surfing, and with it a sensitivity to the mutable, wind-driven swells and the semi-diurnal ebb and flow of the tide, I would paddle my board out beyond the break, and sit up to survey the shore behind me as the rising sun turned the tangled scrub, tall palms and crooked eucalypti beyond the beach the same orange as the sand. And as I floated there, I imagined that I was tethered to the shore by an improbable length of polyurethane, not unlike my leg-rope, that would pull me back not matter how far I drifted out to sea. I could never make up my mind if the idea consoled or frustrated me.

Either way, there I was again, with faded images of my past replaying in my head like the shaky, over-exposed home movies on eight millimeter Kodachrome that my parents used to project onto a wall. An overcast sky diluted a fleeting twilight as the black hills inland eclipsed the sun. Watery shadows flooded the house. I considered whether it was too late to ‘phone my wife again. She would probably be irritated and I didn’t have the stomach for a fight. I resolved to call her if jet lag roused me in the early hours of the morning. I sat at the computer on the linoleum-topped table near the kitchen, the gritty chafe of coral sand was still on the soles of my feet.

There was an email from a close friend, David, an English telecom’ marketing savant who sold his company for several million in cash to an over-confident Internet services group at the apex of the dot.com frenzy. When he retired a year later, in his late thirties, his first impulse was to free himself of every obligation and become a gypsy; I had grown used to receiving his sporadic, rambling notes from Nairobi or Dar Es Salaam or Barcelona. In recent months, the rootlessness and random incidents of self-revelation had gotten to him; depressed, he had flown to London to re-boot.

His latest note was subdued and contemplative: With regard to the idea of returning home, I found that coming back to England was the right thing for me to do and the past eighteen months have been about re-charging and re-examination. It can be good just to get back to the familiar, to slow everything down a bit, and to leave the high- adrenaline lifestyle alone for a while. Part of the process for me (and I think I detect some of this in you) has been to let go of my own expectations of myself, as well as the ‘I shoulds’ – those insidious bits of self-perception which lead to a lot of unhappiness because they are, typically, someone else's perspective or belief which you have imposed upon yourself.

How could I explain to him that I could not let go of anything? Not while I picked among the debris of this psychic crash site, looking for hard facts from which to reconstruct a life.

Massive claws of cold, grey water rolled in from the southeast to tear at the beach, air blasting from the crumbling surf to hang as a sticky, saline haze above the sand. The house was cold, and the rooms had a whiff of briny dampness that clung to the skin.

This was not a homecoming. However, it was a return to the beginning. Whatever I thought I knew or understood about myself was moot – too many irresolvable fragments and jagged shards of half-remembered incident – except this: by the simplest definition, my life started here, on this narrow peninsula, even if it continued (and parts of it were abandoned or lost) somewhere else. This, at least, was reassuring to me.

First published in Griffith Review, Australia, 2005

#homecoming #memoir #surfing #relationships #rootlessness #sydney #tokyo #losangeles

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ioutdoorfurnitur · 3 years ago

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cozyfurniture · 4 years ago

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If you are looking for a new type of outdoor lounge chair, then you should really consider buying an Aluminium Outdoor Lounger. This is because Aluminium has many benefits over other materials which means it makes a great choice for a lounging area. These loungers tend to be lightweight so they are easy to set up, and move around if you are entertaining in your backyard. They also do not have to be a fixed size, so you can get really creative with them. You can get a big sun lounge to fit two or three people inside, and these types of loungers will often be taller, so you won't have to worry about having to squeeze into any smaller outdoor space. For this reason Aluminium outdoor loungers are perfect for those summer nights when you want to lounge outdoors but don't want to go through the hassle of getting the chair's exactly the correct size.

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When it comes to choosing a stylish aluminium sun lounger you will be spoiled for choice, there are many different types and styles to choose from. Aluminium is a very lightweight metal, making it easy to carry around in your car, van or truck without causing any strain or damage to yourself. You will find that most aluminium outdoor lounge sets come with a fold up handle, so you can carry the set easily and keep it within easy reach when not in use. In terms of colour you will be spoilt for choice as there are bright and bold colours available, including traditional white or cream. In terms of shape you will be looking at either a round or rectangular shape. However, if you prefer a sun lounger with an umbrella stand, you will find that there are also options to buy these separately, making the sun lounger much more flexible in terms of where and how you use it.

With so many styles and designs available it is possible to match your outdoor lounge set perfectly to any patio area, and adding a sunbrella cover would make them even more appealing. Sunbrella is a woven, water-resistant material that provides excellent protection from ultraviolet rays. It will also help keep your furniture from fading in the sun, which will ensure that they last for many years to come. This means that by combining strength with beauty, you are sure to end up with a patio set that everyone will love.

So if you want to combine beauty with strength, then you will certainly look good using Aluminium Outdoor Lounges on your patio. They will give you the look of a wooden sun lounger but provide superb protection from the elements. If you like the look of a folding sun lounge chair, but don't like the limitations of a fixed model, then an Aluminium Outdoor Lounges may be the perfect choice for you. You will find that they are lightweight, strong and easy to store, making them the ideal option for those that are short of space. So, whether you want a sun lounger for relaxing in the sun, or something more compact to use when entertaining, or you simply want a great looking piece of furniture, then there are a wide range of options for you to choose from. Why not take a closer look at what Aluminium Outdoor Lounges has to offer?

#Outdoor Dining Settings Melbourne #Outdoor Dining Furniture Melbourne

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parkingshades · 5 years ago

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It is our mission to supply our customers with the best in the industry; in order to do this we are continuously expanding our range of suppliers and working with the market leaders in the sector, to ensure we not only meet but exceed your requirements. At Al Duha Tents Trading all our products come with life expectancy guarantees and all requisite safety and fire standards to ensure peace of mind. GALE PACIFIC Based out of Australia, are the premier global manufacturer of shading products for commercial and Industrial use. Renowned for producing highly durable shade cloth capable of enduring extreme temperatures and providing maximum sun protection making their products highly suitable for all kinds of tension shade structures. Trading, has been an official distributor for Gale in the UAE for over 10 years, and are proud to be one of their largest Retailers. 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SHADES FABRICS SUPPLIER

It is our mission to supply our customers with the best in the industry; in order to do this we are continuously expanding our range of suppliers and working with the market leaders in the sector, to ensure we not only meet but exceed your requirements. We offer all our products come with life expectancy guarantees and all requisite safety and fire standards to ensure peace of mind.GALE PACIFIC Based out of Australia, are the premier global manufacturer of shading products for commercial and Industrial use. Renowned for producing highly durable shade cloth capable of enduring extreme temperatures and providing maximum sun protection making their products highly suitable for all kinds of tension shade structures. \Fabrics Suppliers has been an official distributor for Gale in the UAE for over 10 years, and are proud to be one of their largest Retailers. We at strive to offer our customers the best products available globally, and Gale Pacific are undoubtedly the global premium supplier of shade cloth.Website link:

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agilenano · 5 years ago

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Agilenano - News: Jen’s deck is summer ready + win my outdoor dining set

Sponsored by Early Settler My excitement about using our deck this spring and summer is palpable. We had the deck installed while I was in hospital giving birth to Charlie almost a year ago now (I know, where does the time go?!) and really didn’t use it as much as we could have due to having a newborn, being too permanently tired to remember we even had an outdoor area, and keeping him out of the harsh summer sun! We’ve since had a retractable sun awning installed so we’re now all set to enjoy the good weather which keeps teasing us in Sydney lately, swapping between four seasons in one week at times! When we did the deck we got rid of the old timber pergola, which means we now need furniture which can withstand the elements (as there’s no roof to protect from the rain), so we’ve added to our existing Early Settler lounges (no longer available) with the Blake table and benches. Made of powder coated aluminium, they’re perfect for outdoor use. I love the simple but sturdy design, based on a classic picnic table, and the way the white contrasts with the grey deck. At a generous 240cm long, they’re perfect for big family get-togethers. As with indoor spaces, I love to give the outdoor space a little refresh with the seasons, so I chose some new outdoor cushions (mixed in with a few indoor ones because why not?! They’re easy enough to bring inside or throw in a storage box) and accessories. The deck’s looking picture perfect so I’m now planning all kinds of summer entertaining! All the aluminium furniture out here is not only super hardy, it’s really not heavy at all, which means we can move it around to suit the way we are using the space, whether that’s a party, a big family sit down dinner or Seb hurtling around on his scooter. I’ve lost count of the different furniture configurations we have already tried, and the best thing about benches is they’re a lot easier to move than eight chairs! Speaking of eight chairs, this table can comfortably fit 10 people with four on each bench and a Cate chair at either end if needed. I love the perforated look of the back of these chairs which adds some much needed texture. They’re also stackable, which makes them practical too, and they come in other colours if you feel like adding a pop of coral or slate blue to your al fresco. Regardless of the fact that Early Settler are a partner of ours, I can honestly say I recommend their outdoor range all the time because you really can’t beat it for value, quality and having so much variety to suit all tastes. I’m also really impressed with their more contemporary designs which are really different and not at all what you’d expect for outdoor. WIN MY DINING PACKAGE! For your chance to win the Blake table and bench package worth $1499, simply complete the form below by 5pm AEST on Friday 4 October 2019. Name* First Last Email* For your chance of winning, please tell us, in 50 words or less, your favourite piece from the outdoor look book linked below and why* By entering this competition, I agree to my email address being added to the Interiors Addict and Early Settler databases. I can unsubscribe at any time.* Yes You must tick yes for your entry to be valid. View the Early Settler 2019 outdoor look book GET THE LOOK Blake Aluminium dining table and bench package, $1499 Aruba Flowering Protea outdoor cushions, $29 each Cervino Pink Flower cushions (indoor), $29 each Lavish Emerald Velvet Stitched cushion (indoor), $29 Jiya gold stool (indoor), $99 Marrakesh plant stand (indoor), $19.50 on sale Eco Sole Australian native bowl, $69 Eco Sole Ottway Ranges salad servers, $18 Arlo pineapple wooden bowl, $39 Eco Sole flower round tray table (indoor), $129 Elmer gold large tray (indoor), $39 Shop Early Settler online Our favourites from the latest Early Settler outdoor collections Photography by Jacqui Turk

Agilenano - News from Agilenano from shopsnetwork (4 sites) https://agilenano.com/blogs/news/jen-s-deck-is-summer-ready-win-my-outdoor-dining-set

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unitedhousefurniture · 2 years ago

Link

Aluminum Double Sun Lounge - Outdoor Furniture Sydney

Description:- Constructed from a powder coated aluminum this sun lounge has been designed to withstand the harsh outdoor elements while presents a gorgeous timber look with the low maintenance, strength and durability of an aluminium frame and stunning genuine teak timber trim.

Quality Features:

Powder coated aluminium frame with teak timber look finish and stunning genuine teak timber trim. Contemporary design. Leave to age naturally outside & your teak timber will change to a soft silver grey or if you wish to retain the golden brown colour treat with a teak sealer or protector - instructions are provided on how to care for your item. Water, oil and stain resistant cushion cover which is removable (zip) for easy hand washing if required. No assembly required.

Dimensions:

220L x 180W x 32H (with cushion)

United House Furniture

#outdoorfurniture #round sun lounge #white aluminium sun lounge #white sun lounges australia #cushioned sun lounge #sun lounges online

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yachtingboat · 6 years ago

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Benetti Delivers 49m Elaldrea+

This week, Benetti delivered the long awaited 49m M/Y Elaldrea to a brand new owner. Her fluid Horacio Bozzo-curated silhouette changed hands during an emotionally charged ceremony in Viareggio, Italy.

The 49m mega yacht also features interiors befitting the pedigree of the Benetti Style Department. Other noteworthy aspects include a robust aluminium superstructure painted pearly white with chic silver accents. This feature comes into its own when it catches the light, and a unique iridescent effect comes into play.

The onboard experience of the Benetti yacht is one elegant ease, perfectly appointed for family and social life. Spaces are flooded with natural light that filters through a ceiling and rear door window, which opens out onto a 25 sqm swim platform. The yacht is optimised for cruising, boasting a vast beach club with air conditioning, sofa, TV, bar and sauna.

Starting at the lower deck, Elaldrea+ is fitted with guest cabins, crew quarters, engine room and stern garage. Guest accomodation is comfortably furnished and served by private baths and showers, and the garage is able to accomodate a tender of up to 21 feet. The engine room, meanwhile, possesses the stand out feature of three in-line generators with HUG anti-particulate filters to reduce the yacht’s pollutant emissions. This non-standard feature falls in line with a new industry focus on eco-conscious yachting.

Progressing to the main deck, fine interior spaces entail the main lounge and dining areas, which feature custom-picked furnishings from Poltrona Frau, Giorgetti, Softhouse and Arketipo. There is also a space set aside to be used as an office, which is appointed with the timeless combination of marble and wood. Meanwhile the owner’s apartments are luxurious, featuring two dedicated dressing tables, two bathrooms and flying-out balcony.

The upper deck, finally, features a unique swimming pool in the bow, whilst the stern is appointed with bespoke tables, an American-style bar and Sutherland furniture. It is a convivial and soothing space, decked out with a panoramic lounge, TV area and bar tables.

The sun deck offers a second pool, this one freshwater, surrounded by an American bar, a 50-inch TV, a barbeque and and a table that accommodates ten. It is the perfect yacht for socialising with family and friends. Elaldrea+ is also perfectly suited to long cruises, with a range of 4000 nautical miles at 10 knots powered by two MTU 12V engines.

This impressive yacht pioneers both aesthetically and technologically, and her delivery is a proud moment for the Italian shipbuilder.

Benetti Delivers 49m Elaldrea+

#Superyachts.com

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architectnews · 3 years ago

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Worselys Spur House, Port Hills Christchurch

Worselys Spur House, Port Hills, Christchurch Architecture, NZ Home, New Zealand Real Estate, Property Images

Worselys Spur House in Port Hills

14 Mar 2022

Design: AW Architects

Location: Port Hills, Christchurch, New Zealand

Photos: Lisa Gane

Worselys Spur House, NZ

Perched in the Port Hills above Christchurch, the Worselys Spur House commands a panoramic outlook over the city from the Southern Alps up to the Kaikoura ranges.

The dark hued solid plaster ground floor anchors the house while the light bronze anodised top box floats above like a lantern.

The design creates multiple sheltered zones with large roof overhangs and deck spaces in a setting exposed to high winds and heat. Extensive landscaping features volcanic rock walls, lawn terraces, paving and gravel pathways softened with grassy mounds, shrubs and trees.

The entry contains a slate wall and full height cedar pivot doors. Warm oak flooring continues throughout, while full height glazing flows seamlessly to the exterior. A mixture of white and birch joinery along quartzite benchtops feature in the home, and neutral walls provide space for the owners large works of art.

The project’s site and context The site is approximately 4.3 hectares and is located near the top of Worsleys Spur in the Port Hills overlooking Christchurch. It is moderately steep and runs down to the valley floor. Due to the 2017 Port Hills fire, the owners previous home was destroyed and the site was cleared of vegetation. There are expansive views over the city and across the plains to the Southern Alps and Kaikoura ranges. The site is extremely exposed to sun and extra high winds.

The client’s brief and explain the design response The house is designed for overseas clients and their Christchurch based representative’s family. Most of the house is on the ground floor level in an L-shaped plan, with a private suite on the first floor. There was a rigorous design process to understand the clients cultural wishes, often through an interpreter.

The building is arranged to create multiple sheltered zones with large roof overhangs. Full height glazing throughout allows expansive views out over the valley and to the courtyard garden behind whilst being protected inside. Several landscaped berms enhance the pockets of private retreat sheltered from the wind, sun and adjacent road.

Material selection and method of construction External materials were selected to shelter and anchor the house in the site. The ground floor is set on a concrete slab, with dark painted plastered concrete block walls to the main living, garage and utility spaces. Pockets of recessed cedar weatherboards and glazing between wing walls break up the linear ground floor, demarcating individual rooms. The top floor utilises anodised aluminium cladding which is both light weight and low maintenance. Internal materials were kept light and natural to enhance the feeling of calm and protection in the extreme environment.

Worselys Spur House in Port Hills, NZ – Building Information

Design: AW Architects – http://awarchitects.co.nz/

Landscape Architects: Canopy – https://www.canopy.co.nz/

Project size: 405 sqm Site size: 42795 sqm Completion date: 2020

Photography: Lisa Gane

Worselys Spur House, Port Hills Christchurch images / information received 140322 from AW Architects

Location: Port Hills, Christchurch, New Zealand

New Zealand Architecture

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New Zealand Building Designs – chronological list

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Bridle Path House, Christchurch Design: Borrmeister Architects image from architecture studio New Property in Christchurch

Urban Village Competition in Christchurch – entry Design: ZOTOV&CO picture from architects Urban Village Competition in Christchurch

Christchurch Airport Regional Terminal Design: BVN Donovan Hill with Jasmax pictures from architects studio Christchurch Airport Regional Lounge

Christchurch Stadium Design: Populous picture : Populous Christchurch Stadium

Christchurch Terminal Building Design: HASSELL + Warren and Mahoney image © Wayne Williams / CIAL Christchurch Airport Building

New Zealand Houses

Waitomo Glowworm Caves Visitor Centre, Waitomo, Otorohanga, northern New Zealand Design: Architecture Workshop Waitomo Glowworm Caves

New Zealand Rugby World Cup Venue, Dunedin, southern New Zealand Design: Populous with Jasmax Forsyth Barr Stadium

New Zealand Buildings

Comments / photos for the Worselys Spur House, Port Hills Christchurch property design by AW Architects page welcome

The post Worselys Spur House, Port Hills Christchurch appeared first on e-architect.

#e-architect

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jeremystrele · 6 years ago

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Indoor Outdoor Living At The Flamenco House

Linear volumes stack to form a modern home on a green plot in Jardim Europa, Brazil, offering a living area of 1300 square metres. The contemporary build design is by BZP Arquitetura, with architect Bia Prado leading the team. The ‘Flamenco House’ project was tailored to a young couple with 2 children who wished to integrate the garden with an interior social area. Prado implemented a large retractable wall of glass and aluminium to blur the boundaries, whether the doors stand open or closed. The green tropical garden and courtyard become one with the home, and rustic stone feature walls appear both inside and out to make one free-flowing cohesive aesthetic.

The modern home exterior is clad in wood at the skyline and stone at the base. A concrete patio and a wooden deck helps integrate the indoor and outdoor living spaces; it also provides a landing spot for an alfresco dining set, outdoor sofa and sun loungers. White concrete outlines the buildings form, and mature trees perforate its roofs and decks.

The architects have also included some bioclimatic strategies in the project, such as protective films on glass, photovoltaic panels that absorb solar energy and convert it to heat to warm water for showers and faucets, and green roofs help insulate as well as landscape. Air movement and greater climatic comfort are achieved with a cross ventilation system through the living environments, thus reducing the constant use of air conditioning. A rainwater collection cistern is used in the irrigation of the garden.

The home is set over three floors – though only two are visible above ground. The family social areas live on the ground floor, including a home theatre.

A cutaway ceiling above the patio allows a tree to mature and grow straight through it.

More trees puncture different parts of the homes structure – as though the house itself were rooted in the garden.

A narrow swimming pool washes around one side of the house. Tropical plants overhang the water.

The outdoor and indoor sofas seem to make up one huge living room with the sliding doors all the way open.

On the other side of the main living room there is a courtyard design, which lets more light enter the house and connects it even further with the garden.

Another lounge spans a more snug area, perfect for snuggling up and watching tv in. Although the look here is not quite so open, it does still connect with the garden. A rustic stone wall is peppered with random collections, placed on display shelves that are mounted in straight lines from top to toe.

The formal room interior design ideas and photos” title=”50 Strikingly-Modern Dining Rooms”>modern dining room is also clad in textured stonework. A set of moss green dining chairs complement the natural look, and match the lush garden view on the opposite side.

The stone wall continues seamlessly on the other side of the window glass, connecting the indoor and outdoor areas. A sputnik chandelier stretches out delicately above the dining table.

A second dining room looks upon the same courtyard that serves the main living room around the corner.

A unique chandelier adds interest to the minimalist room.

The home contains a third dining set too, ensuring the family have plenty of choice when deciding where to dine each evening.

Away from the main house, at the other end of the lawn, there is an independent building with several rooms inside. One of these is a kids’ playroom, described as a ‘toy library’ by the architects. Colourful lego storage cubes line the perimeter of the room to keep the kids stuff tidy and organised. One of the lego ‘blocks’ that’s positioned below the wall mounted television serves as a media unit. A kids’ play area fills the lawn outside the glass doors.

This living room is situated on the upper floor, next to the bedrooms. A blue geometric rug colours the room beneath a pale neutral sofa and two grey accent chairs.

The blue colour theme runs into the adjacent double bedroom. Geometric patterned window drapes and a geo headboard add a little quirk to the plain backdrop.

A wood vanity unit breaks up pure white bathroom decor.

This second bathroom is a much more lavish affair, with a gold vanity unit and black marble basin. Black marble tiles the wall too, where a unique gold mirror shines like a giant gem. Wooden panels make a backdrop behind a grey toilet.

Rustic stepping stones form a path toward the house.

Wooden shutters shield the bedrooms.

Tropical foliage feathers the borders.

The pool runs right up alongside the walls of the home.

This plan provides us with a birds-eye view of the swimming pool and how far it reaches. We also get a better idea as to the layout of the independent part of the house that lies at the bottom of the garden. The separate volume contains the toy library, plus a gym and sauna for the grown ups.

First floor layout, including bedrooms, bathrooms and upstairs lounge.

The house has a large basement that is home to the technical areas, services and a garage big enough to house eight vehicles.

Several trees are incorporated into the home design.

This architectural drawing shows how trees become part of the house by growing through patio roofs.

Plan showing pool depth and descent to basement.

Basement detail.

Plan for retractable doors.

Pool alongside the house.

Ramp down to parking garage.

Home plan over all three floors, with staircase design.

Home plan plus outbuilding.

Recommended Reading: 50 Stunning Modern Home Exterior Designs 50 Narrow Lot Houses That Transform A Skinny Exterior Into Something Special

51 Captivating Courtyard Designs That Make Us Go Wow

42 Unique, Decorative Plant Stands For Indoor & Outdoor Use

Architectural Concept of a Glass Box Home

A Stunning House That Blurs the Interior-Exterior Divide

Single Story Modern Cottage in Israel

Modern Mexican Build With Tropical Gardens

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drewebowden66 · 6 years ago