the shore
where the light comes off the water.
Two houses on the Belgian coast, both within walking distance of the beach and both far enough from the crowds that you hear none of it in the morning. The coast is not a season. In February it is emptier, quieter and sharper than in July, and that is exactly when a house does the most.
binnenkort
twee woningen wachten op hun fotoshoot
Twee kustwoningen zijn geauditeerd en opgenomen. Ze verschijnen hier zodra het beeld klopt.
What the coast does to a stay has little to do with the beach. It is the light: low, white and changeable, and it alters how a living room feels from one hour to the next. That is why, in a coastal house, we look at the windows before we look at the distance to the water.
The two houses in the shore are in Heist-aan-Zee and in Ostend. The first on a quiet street behind the dyke, with its own courtyard. The second on the sixteenth floor, with the sea on the horizon and the city below you.
That is an exception to our own rule, and we would rather say so ourselves. The standard asks for a quiet setting and no busy city centre. A flat sixteen floors up in Ostend passes that gate because the height does what distance does elsewhere: above the sixth floor you no longer hear the city. Anyone who is not convinced by that is better off booking in the fields.
The shoulder season is underrated on the coast. From January to March it is quiet, the light is at its best, and the restaurants that stay open all year are the good ones.