Unreal Estate

The allure and charm of grand abodes

It was a change of scenery for my morning walk with the ridgebacks today.  We took to the streets rather than the beach.  Which I’m happy to do, as it’s good training for the hounds to be on a tight lead every so often.  Plus, there’s a particular charm that wraps itself around my local town at this time of year.  It’s a time when the windows and the gardens of grand homes transform into festive wonder.  I’m ever so nosey and love to have a cheeky look inside the living spaces of expensive houses.

Peering through the Victorian bay windows, I find myself captivated by the extravagant decorations adoring the homes.  Each house seems to tell a story of its own, which always evokes a sense of warmth and comfort in me. I’m really drawn to the opulent houses that stand tall and proud, wondering who would live in a house like that.

As I was strolling past rows upon rows of well manicured gardens, it brought to mind the words of Deborah Levy in her captivating living autobiography trilogy, especially her musings on her “unreal estates” in the third book “real estate”.  I loved the way she painted vivid pictures of the palatial houses she walked past, acknowledging their magnificence and their unattainability, which really resonated with me.

Walking past these beautiful abodes, I felt a mix of admiration and contemplation.  There’s a sense of drooling over their beauty while acknowledging the distance between these dream houses and my reality.  Whispering to myself, "Dream on Tan, this is millionaires row, consider it your unreal estate”.  Yet this didn’t sadden me, if anything, I actually felt joyful from soaking up the seasonal displays and appreciated the elegance that surrounded me.

Despite the unlikelihood of these dwellings becoming mine, I relish the experience of letting my imagination wander through these streets.  It’s almost a cruel game of ‘you can look, but you cannot touch’. 

As desirable as it looks, I soon came back down to earth, with a sense of relief that my little house is cute, comfortable and festive enough.  After all, imagine the cleaning and maintenance costs of such  ‘unreal estates’. Living in a million pound home during Christmas might be a blend of enchantment and contemplation, I guess I’ll just keep day dreaming about the allure of luxury and extravagance. Whatever the size of dwelling, the spirit of Christmas lies in cherishing moments shared with loved ones, smelly dogs and a big box of quality street.

Until the next time

Take care & stay safe xx

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