I have always felt, and ever more so, an immense attractiveness to walls. Here, I do not only mean walls of extraordinary edifices or ones that are especially skilfully built. No, I primarily think of the attractive power which each and every, and particularly the most ordinary vernacular wall has over me. Liberated from any ambition to be likeable or architecturally ‘intelligent’, it is reduced to its material and constructional essence. Thus, since they are the marvel of constructional resourcefulness and contextuality, I especially like the modest plastered walls of coastal houses.