When home is one of a dozen or so, location becomes more important than the need for non-essential ‘stuff’. Unless ‘stuff’ is an enviable and vulgar collection of John Hoyland, Eric Cadian, Graham Davis, early works of Ken Abendana Spencer and a few Gene Pearsons scattered here and there.

The confirmed bachelor was intent on keeping the three-storey, three-bedroom townhouse, used mostly as a stopover on the way to somewhere, as light and free-flowing as possible. “When the ocean is in your backyard, why would you try to compete by cluttering the inside?”

The open living area on the ground level is dominated by a bookcase, anchored by a taupe lounging sofa, at the perfect angle for viewing an afternoon football match on the requisite man’s toy, an oversized TV.

A round glass-top coffee table, covered with books on art, design and travel is set in a spacious area designed for reading and relaxation.

Two intimate bedrooms, each with en-suite bathrooms, are nestled on the second floor and dressed in crisp, white matelasse linen, evoking an easy, breezy Caribbean freshness. One bedroom is decorated with an antique-like wrought-iron bed and the other with simple, no- frills twin beds cosily filling the space.

On the landing joining the rooms is a small desk, perfect for the lost art of writing multiple- page love letters (Norman Manley wrote one to his beloved Edna Manley while he was courting her…oh, to be loved, by an intellectual)! From your perch overlooking the lush gardens awash with sunlight and fresh air you will be inspired to pen delightful thoughts, so scribble away.

The light-filled master bedroom, with its sweeping panoramic view of the ocean, dominates the third floor. Taking command of the space is the king-size four-poster bed, with a repeat in the use of crisp white linen as its accessory. The choice of the light blond wood for the furnishings creates an airy, clean aura of restfulness.

The monochromatic tone is interrupted, ever so slightly, with a wink of dark wood from a rustic art and craft stool off to one side.

On the open verandah sits a daybed on offer for the luxury of an afternoon siesta, while perched on the side table are binoculars for, I am almost certain, some bird watching.

Sharing space on the verandah is a rustic iron table and chairs, perfect for watching the sunrise with an early morning cup of Blue Mountain coffee, and again for drinking in the sunset, glass of Belle Glos Pinot Noir in hand, overlooking the pristine, white-powdered beach at day’s end.