The lions meet you first. Two of them, stone, flanking the approach to the portico as you come up the circular flagstone path. By the time you’ve counted fourteen of them across the property — in bronze, stone, ceramic, painted and gilded — you understand that lions are not a decorative accent here. Lions are a commitment. This is a home that made a decision about lions sometime around 1930 and has never once revisited it.
The entry hall sets the tone in case the lions left any ambiguity. Red carpet, wall to wall, running beneath oil paintings in ornate gold frames that are, conservatively, the size of a dining table. A chandelier. A carved timber hall stand that appears to have been sourced from a minor European palace. The whole thing is so committed to its own grandeur that it swings back around to being genuinely impressive — this is not someone who got carried away with a Temple & Webster cart. This is a vision, held and executed over decades.
Upstairs, the billiard room is where the framing obsession reaches its logical conclusion. Every wall surface is covered in photographs. Every inch of the glass ceiling is covered in photographs. A full-size billiard table sits in the middle with the green pendant lamp above it, and around and above it, hundreds of framed images look down in approval. Across the yard, the separate garage — which is not called the garage, it is called “The Stables” and has a full royal coat of arms mounted above the door — continues the theme. The Ferrari inside has its bonnet up. The walls, naturally, are also entirely covered in frames.
The residence itself is no less considered. The glass bath in the main ensuite is transparent-sided — you can see through it, which is either a bold design choice or a very efficient way to check how full it is, depending on your perspective. The conservatory offers zebra-print sofas, a taxidermy elk head, a vintage Lyons Coffee sign, and access through wrought-iron gates to the garden beyond. The underground wine cellar, meanwhile, has a porthole window looking up through the floor of the pool above it. We’ll give you a moment with that.
Built in 1930 on the Geelong waterfront, the house has clearly spent the intervening century accumulating: art, antiques, animals (mounted), lions (everywhere) and enough character to fill three ordinary homes. It is not for everyone. It is very much for someone. That someone will not be caught lion around.
