I’m addicted to property websites, poking around houses that I can neither afford nor want to live in

Excuse me if I seem a little distracted, but I am looking at a bungalow in a Yorkshire fishing village. It has an original, 1950s, green-tiled kitchen with a walk-in pantry and a carpet that looks like broken cornflakes. I have never been to Robin Hood’s Bay, nor do I know anyone who lives there. I …

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