Imagine transforming a humble garage into a breathtaking garden pavilion that feels like a hidden oasis. That's exactly what happened in Fingal Head, NSW, where a 1950s coastal home got a stunning makeover. But here's where it gets intriguing: this isn't just any renovation—it's a masterclass in restraint, creativity, and redefining space. Meet Cal Somni, a holiday home owned by Crick King and Nigel Chouri, which doubles as a retreat for friends, family, and Airbnb guests (https://www.airbnb.com.au/rooms/1293161526970678316?sourceimpressionid=p31768781522P3uymw_Xw4pbNerO). Three years after purchasing the property, the duo embarked on a renovation that prioritizes simplicity over excess, turning a rundown garage into a versatile pavilion that feels like a destination in itself.
And this is the part most people miss: instead of expanding the house, Crick and Nigel chose to convert the existing garage into a pavilion—a decision rooted in both practicality and philosophy. By avoiding a development application, they worked within the site’s original footprint, but also liberated the space from traditional expectations. ‘We wanted to create a space without a defined use,’ Crick explains. ‘It could be anything—a bedroom, yoga studio, lounge, dining area, office, or even a party zone.’ This approach isn’t just clever; it’s revolutionary, inviting users to reimagine how spaces can serve us.
Before the renovation, the house was a fixer-upper, plagued by water damage, termites, dry rot, and a crumbling concrete floor. Yet, its straightforward construction—concrete base, timber stud walls, and asbestos sheeting—proved advantageous. Crick and Nigel dismantled and reassembled the home with ease, retaining its original footprint while adding just a suspended timber verandah and an enclosed laundry. The result? A home that feels both refreshed and respectful of its past.
The pavilion, meanwhile, is a study in harmony. Designed to visually converse with the house, it shares a material palette of cement sheeting, ironbark, corrugated iron, tiled floors, and stainless steel fixings. Yet, subtle differences—like the pavilion’s lighter interior with exposed structural timber—give each structure its own identity. But here's where it gets controversial: is it possible for two buildings to be both distinct and inseparable? Crick and Nigel seem to think so, and the result is a dialogue between old and new that feels effortlessly cohesive.
Color plays a starring role in this transformation. Both buildings are clad in varying shades of dark green, allowing them to blend seamlessly into the native garden. Recycled brick paving creates pathways and a central ‘plaza’—a nod to the couple’s 20 years in Spain—while the pavilion’s floating verandah pays homage to their travels in Japan. It’s a global inspiration distilled into a single, serene space.
Sustainability is quietly woven into the project’s DNA. Solar panels, a battery system, and a water-wise native coastal garden replace the former grass and concrete, proving that eco-conscious design doesn’t have to shout to be effective. But here's a thought-provoking question: in an era of excess, can simplicity and sustainability truly coexist? Crick and Nigel’s project suggests they can—and beautifully so.
For the owners, the true success of the project is deeply personal. ‘The most rewarding part has been creating a home that makes us feel content, calm, and slow,’ Nigel reflects. ‘Walking barefoot, rinsing off sea salt in the outdoor shower, or napping in the pavilion surrounded by trees and the sound of kookaburras—these are the moments that matter.’ In a world that often equates more with better, Cal Somni stands as a testament to the power of less. It’s not just a renovation; it’s a reminder to pause, breathe, and redefine what truly makes a space feel like home.
What do you think? Is simplicity the ultimate luxury, or does modern living demand more? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s spark a conversation about what truly matters in design and life.
