I read this article on Sunday in the Telegraph, and I can’t stop thinking about it.
For 70 years, a Parisian flat was uninhabited, the rent faithfully paid. The owner, who moved to the South of France before World War II and never returned, died recently at age 91. When her estate managers opened the apartment, one said, “Entering the untouched, cobweb-filled flat in Paris’ 9th arrondissement was like stumbling into the castle of Sleeping Beauty, where time had stood still since 1900.”
The find that’s being touted in the news is the romantic Boldini painting of the owner’s actress grandmother, which sold at auction for 2.1 million pounds.
But I have to wonder…am I the only one who’d rather have the flat? I mean, look at it: