Over breakfast, on Sunday mornings we all gather round the TV. But there is no Songs Of Praise or E4 Friends on offer here; the pick of the crop belongs to housing programmes. Before you jump to conclusions about my life living with in-laws (which, though, is probably justified), know that this is not Location Location Location, or Escape to the Country, where you inevitably just become jealous of the house-hunters, their wealth and all the beautiful houses they could but don’t want to buy. This is “look at all the beautiful houses that have been foreclosed on and therefore you can buy at a ridiculously low price”.
The purposefully slow, clear voice of definitely-not-a-born-presenter realtor Julie guides us from room to oversized room: complete with Fire Place in the bedroom, Jacuzzis inside and out, and the all important Butlers' Pantry. We theorise that rich Californian moguls having numerous houses really feel they should “sell the Orange County pad” to finance fifteen more black four-by-fours and the wife’s youthful but expressionless face. What with the recession affecting everybody.
If you are into snooping round other people’s homes then the US system of open-houses would fill your weekends with excited glee. Chris’ parents took to visiting of a Sunday and, still in this habit when we arrived, persuaded us to go along.
There really are some beautiful houses in Orange County; one modern bachelor pad had full height windows over a view of shimmering sea, a custom made kitchen “using the same wood that Lexus use”, and a bath that filled from a tap in the ceiling. All it was missing was a hot-tub on a veranda. The four bed Tuscan inspired house was my personal favourite: elegant curved staircase, two walls of French windows onto an outdoor seating area that overlooked the pool and Jacuzzi. With room to park three cars in the garage, and a further five or so in the drive, all this house lacked was somewhere for the kids to run about outside. On grass.
Is this not the thing that every mother longs for? A space where her little darlings can gallivant around whilst she plants vegetables and dad reads the paper. It is rainy, or windy, or even frosty for ninety percent or the year in England, yet our outdoor space is sacred.
This is not the case is Southern California. Land here is at a premium that even London should be threatened by, and big houses are the thing, followed closely by multi-car garages. Some estate agents even add the square-footage of the garage to the overall when describing a house. Status symbols come in the style of four-wheels and multiple-gas-burners. As long as there is room for the guests to admire the barbeque, how much more outdoor room does one family need?
Hyperboles aside, it is strange to consider the differences between us Brits and our brethren here in CA, when we feel so close to them through the various forms of media. I seriously did not expect this move to be that much of a culture shock, and it wasn’t at first, but the longer we are here, the more the differences just creep up on you.
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