We fell in love with a lighthouse

In 1996 there was a lighthouse for sale in Burnham-on-Sea, and as a reporter I was sent to cover it - it was rumoured someone famous might be buying it. When it didn't reach its reserve at auction, curiosity got the better of me. I got the keys and went with my fiancee to look at it. It was an empty shell. Just a 110ft chimney with eight floors linked by vertical steel ladders. It had no water. No toilet.

It's a very beautiful piece of architecture. It has a copper roof, huge granite floors and 6ft-thick walls, like a castle. People died building it. We bought it, but with no idea how much it would cost to turn it into a dwelling, and no planning permission. We were young and stupid and in love with each other and the building.

Initially the romantic dream was to bring up our kids and live in the lighthouse. But the bureaucracy and the difficulty took a bit of the gloss off. It took nearly 10 years to complete. Trying to make a granite tower comply with 21st-century building regulations is impossible. Building inspectors kept throwing up objections and we had to find common sense solutions. Twice we went to the secretary of state, and we succeeded. Fire was the big concern so we installed a sprinkler system that cost a fortune, fire doors, smoke detectors. We finally finished it this Easter. Now we rent it out and stay there when it's empty.

You have to be quite disciplined to live vertically. You change the way you do things. You never go up the tower empty-handed or come down empty-handed. You hang your keys in the same place all the time. You can't put your mobile phone down. The tower is designed so there is always a loo within one or two floors. There's a kitchen at the top but also a kettle and fridge at the bottom.

The trade off is fantastic. The lantern is still in the top room and, on a clear day, you can see 22 miles in every direction. It's really exciting to be up there in a storm. If it gets hit by lightning - as it always does - it's great. You can just watch the storm and the gulls, and you're insulated from it all.

I had to learn to abseil so I could paint it. The scaffolding would cost tens of thousands. It needs doing about every five years. It's fun on a calm day, hanging off the lighthouse with a paintbrush.

We were often tempted to sell it, during dark times in the refurbishment. But I think some things are once in a lifetime. It's not every day you get the chance to buy a lighthouse.

Patrick O'Hagan