Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
The third estate was a big concern for me because Jack loved the place. I also had to
concede that the land was pretty close to spec. The non-ideal aspects were that it was spread
over a minor mountain with very little in the way of flat areas. Access was impossible, and
then there was the question of where the boundaries actually lay. This had baffled the own-
er so could easily become an issue at the point of sale.
The fourth estate ended up as another example of estate agent chicanery at its best.
With the original photographs bearing very little resemblance to the reality, it was a huge
disappointment. The terrain was bowl shaped with almost no trees and impossibly steep
scree-covered slopes that effectively halved the usable land.
In my defence I had always considered our fifth estate to be a sort of
well we're in the
area let's go and have a quick look
type of property. The reality turned out to be another
major disappointment. It would have been useful if the blurb had noted that there were five
habitable buildings rather than coyly mentioning just the one. It would also have been nice
to know that they were partially converted cow sheds. Then, once again, less than half of
the land was suitable due to the steep mountainous slopes.
The estate we had seen this morning should (and could) have been excellent. ItsWill
knew what we wanted (or persuaded me as much) but he should have visited the property
before recommending it. That would have saved us all a lot of trouble.
The chilling prospect of total failure gipped me. Was it genuinely feasible that, after
all my painstaking research and everything we'd been through so far, that we we wouldn't
find what we wanted? This was a dreadful thought, made all the worse because I had been
so convinced that each
domaine
would be perfect.
Then there was Jack. Could I manage to keep him and his temper onside? Would he
agree to complete our schedule? We had six more planned
domaine
visits and I desperately
wanted to view them all, but if he refused, the mission was at an end.
But was he really serious? I suppose I couldn't blame him if he was. Equally worrying
was the thought that, after today, he might just decide that we should give up on the re-
mainder of the planned visits and plump for the mountain property, the third estate we had
visited. What an appalling prospect!
My troubled rumination was shattered by an explosion. A waiter had just walked past
us with a plate packed with pungent-smelling leaves. This set Jack's sinuses off and he im-
mediately started a horrifically loud nasal attack which shocked me and clearly alarmed the
assembled diners.
“Oh my God, what was
that?
” he demanded between snorts and sneezes as he groped
around in his pockets and produced a well-used
Kleenex
.
“Mint, it's only mint, darling, and don't even think about using that tissue, use these
instead.”
With that I handed him a fresh supply from my handbag. Still snivelling, Jack was not
to be comforted.
