…and this is my kayaking room.

57 Eureka Pl., Parahaki, Whangarei 0112, New Zealand

Well okay then. I guess everybody needs a hobby, so why not pretending to kayak in one’s house?

57 Eureka Pl., Parahaki, Whangarei 0112, New Zealand

Also I guess another hobby they have is ukulele bird watching?

The listing’s headline proclaims this place to be “A House of Secrets.” So where are the secrets?

57 Eureka Pl., Parahaki, Whangarei 0112, New Zealand

This property was purpose built for a special community group in the 1970’s and has has some very unique features to go with it.

The third level disappears completely underground and at 60 plus meters has a multitude of possible uses. A great cellar, if you want one with a bathroom, or maybe a recording studio or sound proof music room. Great hobbies room or nuclear survival shelter.

Oh. So the “secret” is that it has a basement. I guess in the far north of New Zealand that’s a “very unique feature?” Also why would you ever need a nuclear survival shelter in the far north of New Zealand?

About the Author

Marty E.
Naked Loon Editor-in-Chief

2 Comments on "…and this is my kayaking room."

  1. Marty, I swear to goodness that I had just got up, taken another dose of cold medicine, came back, sat down, clicked forward from the undistinguished bottom of the previous entry (a perfectly normal studio) – and saw the kayaking room, followed by the baritone ukelele panorama.

    I used to play the baritone ukelele, Marty. I now believe that you have mounted a concerted campaign against my sanity… and that you have won. I am yours to command, evil overlord.

  2. So, 3500sqft, appx $360,000, fantastic views, lots of big windows, lovely grounds. Hmm… Yes! I’ll take it! But tell me, where is this “Noo Z-land” you speak of? ….Oh. Nevermind.

    “…a special community group.” That is beyond intriguing. It’s of note that around the time this place was built, New Zealand sent out at least one naval vessel to protest French nuclear testing in the South Pacific. Yeah… I’d want a nice sized bomb shelter, too, in case anything went “off course.” Or created zombie hoards. Unless I was already part of the zombie-creating cult hiding out in the basement, where the torch-and-pitchfork crowds couldn’t kill us. Zombies are so persecuted.


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