Ever since Council pushed the bitumen all the way down to "Riverbend", we've had those never-been-off-the-road gleaming four-wheel-drives lingering outside the gate, moving back and forth to capture the views, and then slowly driving off again while looking, looking, looking ...
Our gate stays firmly shut to all but a select few who perhaps once a year make an appointment because they are in search of that special place, a gracious family home in a seven-acre parklike setting, where they can retreat from the rest of the world and live life on their terms.
I tell them that they'd be buying not just one block of land, but seven on seven separate titles, with another separate title for what was the old access road running the whole length of it. And then it happens!
Their eyes widen and start flashing dollar signs. "Could we sell them?" Of course, they could, but they would probably be useless to anybody without a tent because Council wouldn't give them a building permit.
A minute ago, they had still revelled in the thought of living in their own parklike setting with nothing but possums, ducks, birds, and the occasional wallaby for their neighbours, and now they feel cheated.
I shouldn't even tell them!
