There are many beautiful châteaux in France. They were built in an era when the country was a kingdom and folk were either filthy rich and could afford to have these great houses built for them, or peasant poor and could only gape open-mouthed whenever they happened to pass one by.
Times change and wealth drifts away or is reassigned, making the upkeep of such huge properties more than a millstone around the neck of owners. There was a great deal of enthusiasm for them in the UK some years ago, pre-Brexit. Much was made of how low-priced some of these châteaux were and what a good buy they would be. I think a number of people (sometimes groups) bought such a property in a moment of madness and never stopped to think of the renovation and running costs of such huge buildings, and expansive grounds. The main reason these often magnificient constructions stand empty is because previous owners just could not afford the upkeep.
When I was about sixteen years old, myself and two mates of similar age, Dave, and Pete (now in Australia), learned of an ex-Royal Navy Motor Torpedo Boat (MTB) that was for sale in Liverpool docks. We began to fantasize about owning such a craft. The fantasy drifted into virtual reality and we decided there would be nothing amiss with at least going to look at it.
An MTB (this is not the one for sale)
It was wrecked inside and would obviously cost a fortune to renovate. The big twin diesel engines had been removed. We fantasized about buying an old bus engine to replace them. After all we wouldn’t need it to speed along at 60kph, which was it’s original top speed.
Of course, the whole idea was ludicrous. I doubt that between us we could even raise a hundred pounds. Our dream-like visions of standing on the bridge guiding this monster out to sea were eventually replaced by slightly less exotic ideas.
I relate this tale to show how easy it is to get carried away with fancies that end up as totally impractical. It makes no difference whether you’re sixteen or sixty, when the notion fires you and the dream carries you forward, logic and financial reason can be easily thrust aside.
Thankfully, Dave, Pete and I were never able to do more than dream. Had we been able to raise the cash even to buy the thing, it would have become a great millstone around our necks.
Just as are those French châteaux, now owned by struggling English folk whose dream, for some, has turned into a nightmare.