Phobias - Fat Dogs and French Estates - page 123

top of several cushions, he emerged looking very proud, driving a roofless prehistoric Land
Rover Series 1.
This vehicle, apart from being generally battered inside and out, only had one seat re-
maining in the front which belonged to the driver. However, the original metal bench seat-
ing (now thoughtfully covered in colourful scatter cushions) still existed in the rear so there
was ample room for the three of us to enjoy a semi-comfortable open-top tour.
Jack's eyes gleamed in a way that only an engineer's can at the sight of this mechanical
jewel and he immediately started chatting to signore about his beloved vehicle.
The land was spread over 90 hectares so in the 45 scheduled minutes remaining, we
couldn't possibly see it all. Charles was charged with making sure signore understood this
and asked him to take a route that would show us the greatest amount of land in the short
time that was available. This all seemed fine and we set off with signore chattering away
in several languages to his fellow classic car enthusiast, about the merits of variously con-
figured gearboxes and transfer boxes.
As we trundled on it became evident that the land was formed like a kind of hanging
valley. Disappointingly, this meant that of the 90 hectares, only about 40 could be con-
sidered safe to walk on and therefore useable. The rest would need a fairly sophisticated set
of climbing equipment. Sadly, none of this had been apparent from our previous vantage
points or from the blurb. As I absorbed this disappointment I looked over to Jack who, for
the moment, hadn't noticed the steepening gradient. This, fortunately, was because he was
still deeply engrossed in a technical conversation.
Signore , as good as his word, decided that the best way to get a rapido panoramic view
of his land was from the highest point. It inevitably meant tackling the odd hairpin but to us
veterans these were extremely tame affairs and nothing compared to what we had recently
endured. Added to which, signore 's Land Rover seemed to have a top speed of 8kph which
helped to remove the fright-factor.
Alas, as it transpired, this complacence was not shared by all the passengers. There
was something very wrong with our agent.
“Oh dear God! ”
Charles had positioned himself on the hairpin 'drop' side of the car, so that Jack and I
could enjoy the views, and had gone quite green. I looked at him, alarmed by his anguished
outburst.
“Charles, is there something wrong?”
“I'm afraid I have a mortal fear of heights, a touch of vertigo I think. It's always the
same in situations like this. I think I might be sick at any moment... oh dear. ”
Having escaped a near throw-up incident from a previous estate agent, I certainly
wasn't going to chance it again. I turned quickly to Jack and pointed at Charles.
“We're going to have to stop. He's going to be sick !” I yelled above the roar of the
labouring diesel engine.