I am feeling strangely upset by the news that Langgarth House, the house built in Stirling by my great grandfather, has been devastated by a large fire. This is the house that my grandfather sold to fund his acquisition of Aston Martin (a story I have told previously).
The story of the fire is told in The Daily Record, here. It would appear to be casual arson by a couple of teenagers.
It makes me particularly glad that my son Mike and I went up to Stirling to look around it a few years ago. It was on the market then, but would have required a couple of million to restore it, which strangely I didn't have in my back pocket at the time. We met some property developers from Edinburgh who had been round it, and they said it would be hard for the Council to find a buyer for it, unless it was someone like me with a particular interest. I joked: So you you reckon I could get it for a fiver?' 'Yes,' they replied, 'but you'd be over-paying!'
Over a pint in the pub, Mike and I briefly fantasised about the project. We both agreed a Billiard Room would be a great feature; and I imagined welcoming people there for coaching, or workshops. But it was a fantasy, and I think it was only Jane who thought (feared) that I might come home having bought the place.
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