Dear Madame Arcati,
Not a nibble on this place [Roger's gorgeous house in Herefordshire, recently profiled on Arcati - click link]. The property market seems paralysed. It's like Royston Vasey: You'll Never Leave.
Meanwhile, I am longing to move into The Walpole Bay Hotel, Margate, permanently, and be like the Major in Fawlty Towers. It is bliss. I think it must be the greatest hotel in England -- T.S. Eliot wrote The Waste Land on the sands adjacent, Tracey Emin uses it as her Margate pomme de terre, there is an old fashioned lift with a trellis gate, horn gramophones and sepia views ... (Have you been ?)
My pbk out any day.
My Dearest Roger,
How lovely to hear from you - I am only sorry that the might of Madame Arcati, not even in the curtained glory of her redesign, has managed to pull in a buyer for your lovely Georgian Townhouse (5 bedrooms).
I have not been to Margate (yet) and the mention of The Emin is not encouraging - utterly common. I looked up the Walpole Bay Hotel's slick and snazzy website and I see that a Four Poster Room is priced at £115 per night (low season) - not unreasonable, though it is my practice to haggle like a collector of antiques and ask, 'What's your best price?' This is done advisedly on the phone prior to arrival. I feel that Kent could be calling.
In any case, and for reasons we cannot go into here, you are best off beside the seaside, with Neptune for company, your natal soulmate deity (twice over if I recall). Outside my seaside home window (south-facing natch) is a rig on the horizon which is about to plant a wind turbine. It's so exciting.
If we can't sell your home, then at least let's get people to buy the paperback of your wonderful latest book, What Am I Still Doing Here? which I believe is out in early May. I can't recommend it highly enough as a work of serious comic philosophy!
Love as ever