Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“But Will, this is the size of a national forest,” Jack said with an extremely pained
expression. “We just want enough land for ourselves, not somewhere to develop a timber
industry. What was wrong with our original choice?”
This understandable level of apprehension came about because ItsWill, following an
in-depth discussion with his assistant, Anton, had explained that our intended
domaine
for
the afternoon had become unavailable. Anton had suggested an alternative (via another
agent) to be slotted in its place. The particulars were faxed through and we scrutinized the
brief.
ItsWill made a great show of listening sympathetically to Jack's comments before
speaking.
“Unfortunately, our initial choice simply won't do. And interestingly one doesn't
know
why
. But, here we are, straight from the
mouth of the horse,
as it were, being in-
formed by our partners that this estate,” he stabbed the new document with his finger, “has
been on the market for some time and is now going for a song. It will barely make a
dent
in
one's pocket! And even more thrilling, it is apparently, quite possibly, altogether superior
to our original choice. So do
please
read the details again. I really feel we simply
must
go
and view it.”
He ended this with an encouraging little punch on Jack's upper arm which I felt was
an extremely dangerous gesture. But he got away with it.
The significant sticking point that Jack was emphasising was that this property
covered 450 hectares (just over 1,100 acres). It was an immense tract of countryside. Urged
on by ItsWill's irritating twitterings, we dutifully pored over the detailed description again.
ItsWill, studying Jack's exasperated expression as he re-read the section that described the
land, tried again.
“Jack, old chap, I do understand your concern but here's the most wonderful thing
about this
domaine
. There's barely a
thing
to do with the land. It really is magnificently
wild d'you see? I'm told it contains all sorts of
grand gibier
(big game), absolutely bursting
at the seams with deer and boar and as for the feathered game all one need do is put down
a few pheasant eggs and, how do you say it in London, Bill's your uncle,
haw haw
!”
“Bob.”
“Pardon?”
“Bob,
Bob's
your uncle.”
“Oh, yes, well of
course
he is. Now, where was I? Ah yes! We must make haste, we've
a bit of a drive to get there and I said we'd meet
Madame
Rougé, my colleague from
Im-
mobilier Châteaux en Provence
, en route. Oddly enough I haven't visited this estate before
which, as you can imagine, is strange because it's such a
find
. But one is
so
busy at the
moment. Anyway, not to worry, let's be off. I say,
what
an adventure,
tallyho
!”
And with that he sprang out of his chair, grabbed poor Biff and tap-danced out to the
car park.
