On the edge
For this London-based Kiwi, coming home means sun, sea and sand at the front door
In an extreme high tide, water laps at the small wall separating Michael Kavanagh’s Point Chevalier holiday house from the beach; his builder and designer Tony Burgess suggested the duck egg blue for the exterior of the building, which contains four beach houses, and all the neighbours loved it: “The place hadn’t been painted for over 20 years, so a new colour was overdue – it will be painted by the end of summer but I know some people quite like the two-colour effect.”
Michael kavanagh knows he is a lucky man. Just three steps out of his bedroom, his feet are in the sand. Another few steps and he is in the sea. The Point Chevalier, Auckland building that incorporates his holiday house is slap bang on the beach – it was once a tuck shop and changing rooms.
Michael first spied the potential of the converted 1920s building in 1996 while he was in New Zealand working on TV One’s election coverage and staying with his friend Mary Taylor (who lives in one of the building’s four beach houses). “I always thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be great to buy?’” he says, and after nearly two decades of musing over its unbelievable location, he finally made an offer to the owner. He bought the third house along from Mary in October 2014.
Michael grew up on a Taranaki dairy farm but has spent the past 30 years working as a producer for the BBC in London. A selfdescribed “Kiwi-Londoner”, he calls both countries home – apart from when the rugby is on: “I always cheer for the All Blacks.” >
“THEY SAID, WOULD YOU SELL? LES SAID WHY NOT SHOW THEM THROUGH? THEY NAMED A GOOD PRICE... I’M IN REAL ESTATE...”
Retirement has made spending summers in New Zealand possible but, he confesses, “I’m not brave enough to stick it out for an Auckland winter.”
So, when he decides it’s time, he moves from his five-storey Georgian house in East London with its little English garden to his two-storey beach house in Point Chevalier. At high tide the waves lap at the small concrete wall in front of his deck, and it is difficult to resist a Titanic moment and cry out “I’m flying, Jack!” when looking out of the second-storey windows.
Michael lived in the “unloved, leaky and rundown” building for four months before embarking on renovations just as he was leaving for London. “I was looking at it on a tiny screen from thousands of kilometres away, which was a bit scary,” he says, but he had confidence in his designer and builder Tony Burgess.
The “bach chic” vision for the beach house was clear to both Tony and Michael. “There’s a saying I always used to talk about,” says Michael: “Perfection is reached, not when there is nothing left to add but when there is nothing left to take away.” With that in mind, Tony designed a simple, uncluttered space that ensured there was nothing to distract from the view. “The one extravagance I allowed myself was a beautiful floor,” he says of the French oak running throughout the house. “It is stunning but still very beachy.” >
Sunset is the best time of the day, and sunsets at high tide are the crème de la crème. “I can swim and watch the sky be transformed by the sun. The sunsets here are spectacular nearly every day, it’s what makes the beach magical,” says Michael.
However, a beautiful view and a beach literally steps away can have unexpected drawbacks. “I never get invited out to restaurants or go to people’s homes because everybody likes to come over here,” says Michael. It is the place for suppers, barbecues and family events all summer long, with Michael even managing to entertain 33 family members in the small house last Easter.
In fact, the beach house is not only a holiday destination for Michael, but a regular haunt for family members who live in New Zealand. “I encourage them to come and use it when I’m not here; it’s such a fabulous place, it’s wrong not to be used,” he says.
He admits that he occasionally has to tell himself that too. “I say to myself, ‘ You bought a beach house and travelled thousands of kilometres: you will go in the water every day.’” So, when the tide is high, he texts Mary and they go out for a swim and a gossip in their secluded bay.
Unfortunately his paddleboard does not see the sea as often. “I’m inherently lazy. A friend of mine said, ‘I don’t see the point of a paddleboard – where, for example, do you store your red wine?’” But, he says, “it’s supposed to be very good for your core, and my core needs it.”
The beach is one of Auckland’s best-kept secrets, says Michael, so it’s perfectly peaceful – apart from the odd skinny-dipper who wanders across the seemingly empty beach for a cheeky dip. The squeals and laughter tend to shatter a quiet night. “They think they are the first people in the world to skinny-dip,” says Michael. “There’s no need to squeal. Just swim!”