The Sandcastle
Words by Amelia Brown Styling by Charl Edwards and Storm Ross Photography by Alix-Rose Cowie
ABOVE Sandcastle’s organically moulded features were informed by adobe construction and shapes found in nature.
What are the ingredients that make for a great escape? It must involve a journey. A change of pace, if not an abrupt shift from the quotidian and mundane to a new kind of rhythm that ideally, in my opinion, follows the beat of the sun. A brush with the unfamiliar. A sense of discovery that stimulates parts of the brain decommissioned in the daily commute. I favour nature. Somewhere remote. A place that takes a little effort to get to, but that makes you breathe deeper and think less. A setting that encourages you to reconnect with yourself. The drive south from East London to Sandcastle Villa takes only an hour, meandering along the coast and then inland through valleys and rural villages, yet it has the splendid road-trip side effect of emptying my brain and engaging escape mode. Fortunately, a prompt from Google Maps alerts us to the turn-off to Wesley, the small blink-and- you’ll-miss-it settlement laid out on either side of a rutted dirt road that we bump our way along to reach the gates of the villa.
Double doors open up onto a sheltered courtyard with a solar-heated plunge pool that’s an ideal retreat on windy days. The layout and transparency of the villa means you can still enjoy the sea view to the south from here.
What are the ingredients that make for a great escape? It must involve a journey. A change of pace, if not an abrupt shift from the quotidian and mundane to a new kind of rhythm that ideally, in my opinion, follows the beat of the sun. A brush with the unfamiliar. A sense of discovery that stimulates parts of the brain decommissioned in the daily commute. I favour nature. Somewhere remote. A place that takes a little effort to get to, but that makes you breathe deeper and think less. A setting that encourages you to reconnect with yourself. The drive south from East London to Sandcastle Villa takes only an hour, meandering along the coast and then inland through valleys and rural villages, yet it has the splendid road-trip side effect of emptying my brain and engaging escape mode. Fortunately, a prompt from Google Maps alerts us to the turn-off to Wesley, the small blink-and- you’ll-miss-it settlement laid out on either side of a rutted dirt road that we bump our way along to reach the gates of the villa.
The gently undulating passageway leads you on a journey to the bedrooms and TV room to the east of the villa, providing an experiential sense of the adobe architecture and unexpected glimpses of the landscape.
We let our hosts know that we’ve arrived, switch off the engine and breathe in the silence. Before long, we hear the hum of a motor and spot a figure on the horizon astride a quad bike, silhouetted by the Hockney blues of ocean meeting sky. Like a Mad Max-inspired Vogue shoot, our hostess Cara Skye – all large dark glasses and billowing wisps of fabric – waves warmly, dismounts and opens the gate in one easy movement, before speeding off again. The owners bought the 252-hectare property in the mid-90s and completed the holiday home in 1998. Under the management of Cara and life-long friend Claire Helyar, Sandcastle has recently become available to rent for an exclusive-use self- or fully-catered stay.
Curiosity piqued, we follow Cara somewhat more slowly, taking in a tower of giraffe. Their furry ossicones stand out against the sky in an uncanny resemblance to the villa’s distinctive mounds that are now visible in the distance, nestled between the trees. The last stretch of driveway is bordered by tall euphorbia or coral cactus. After the vast, open, rugged Eastern Cape shrubland, this green tunnel temporarily shuts everything out and narrows your focus on the entrance, one terracotta tower rising up ahead. In a bewitching green flash you’re out of the avenue and met with the widescreen impact of the villa.
For the interiors, the owners were influenced by the statement minimalism of modernist architect Luis Barragán. They also looked to the American Southwest, where adobe architecture is common, to evoke a Santa Fé-inspired interior design style: earth tones, rich textures and natural materials; pattern, carvings and subtle details; crafted and hand-made items; assortments from nature; and artefacts that speak of culture and travel.
Two large Easter Island-inspired heads stand vigil, solemnly welcoming guests. Even they are dwarfed by the expanse of sky. Taking it all in, I get the feeling that I’ve been shrunk, an impression that’s only amplified by Sandcastle’s suitably voluminous proportions. Rather than being diminished or dated by the decades, it’s the villa’s defiant nonconformity that makes it timeless. ‘The owners’ desire from the outset was to create a space that challenged conventional norms and responded to a different rhythm of life,’ says architect David Mealin. Avid travellers and collectors of African art and artefacts, it was their appreciation for forms found in nature and the earthy moulded curves of adobe construction that inspired the design. ‘It draws its aesthetic from the natural world and from memories and dreams of places once visited,’ adds David.
Plastered in pigmented white cement, lime and sand sourced from the beach, the termite mound towers appear as if they were shaped by the elements and prevailing winds. They are the anchors intersected by the building’s angular horizontal planes, which spread outwards in a 1 600m2 honeycomb sprawl. ‘The spatial arrangement is cellular and organic and references structures found in nature,’ explains David. ‘The internal arrangement is reminiscent of insects’ nests or fan corals.’
It’s a layout that encourages exploration and offers ample opportunity to retreat further into your own private space. ‘Sandcastle lets its secrets unfold slowly,’ says David, ‘allowing guests to find favourite spaces, unexpected views, and experience interesting journeys through the building during the course of their stay.’ The villa faces south, towards the sea, fanning out in a gently curving axis, east to west. An abundance of glass ensures a continuous connection to the environment, as well as a persistent awareness of the structure. Around every corner, a new perspective awaits.
‘The daily movement of the sun through the house transforms its spaces and gives life to the walls and the textures on them,’ David continues. Clerestory windows frame the tops of the towers and invite in the sky, allowing the sun to penetrate the interiors and set the pace for the day. The bedrooms in the east are flooded with yellow morning light, while the living space in the west is bathed in a golden afternoon glow as you watch the sun set from a deep, comfy chair. The play of light and shadow changes how you experience the same space throughout the day.
A moment of tranquil domesticity captured in the walled vegetable garden, which leads off the kitchen.
A moment of tranquil domesticity captured in the walled vegetable garden, which leads off the kitchen.
David refers to himself as a ‘response architect’, explaining that he designs in response to the setting. I would add another facet to the definition: design that elicits response. Complemented by the calm, understated interiors, Sandcastle is a mood. The journey may have ended when we arrived at the gate, but the place provokes an expedition inwards.
‘Villlas and retreats are inherently mystical buildings that allow us to escape from our own reality and explore new versions of ourselves; to rediscover and reinvent the person we are and return to our daily lives with fresh perspectives, new philosophies and a renewed zest for life,’ says David. ‘These buildings are meant to challenge norms and inspire the people who visit them. They are meant to possess a mythical intrigue that expands our consciousness and sense of wellbeing beyond the experience of our everyday.’
