Carved into the cliffs of Clifton, where the Atlantic meets the edge of Africa, the house is a rare vantage point—part sanctuary, part secret. Framed by concrete and glass, it opens to the elements: sea mist in the morning, golden hours that linger, and sunsets that seem to stretch beyond time. Inside, shadows fall clean and the architecture is precise. Arriving there is the scent of stone, and the sense that you’ve arrived exactly where you’re meant to be.