|Frank Lloyd Wright barrel chair. 1904. He used variations of this design in his own house, Taliesin, and in the Darwin Martin house in Buffalo, New York|
|Barcelona chair, 1929 Mies van der Rohe and Lilly Reich|
Our daughter, on the other hand, is a menace to friends. Her rather ratty canvas deck chairs give up and rip in panic the moment a posterior hovers above.
|Red and Blue Chair 1917, Gerrit Rietveld|
So, yup, I thought I was safe.
|Adirondack chair 1903, Thomas Lee (a little patent hanky panky followed)|
Wrong. Here begins the final instalment of House Hunting Hell.
Wanting nothing more than to get home we finally got onto the ferry. Winds immediately increased and we had a bumpy ride over the waves. Nevertheless we joyfully bounded into the airport. Flight cancelled, due to now storm conditions. Next flight 27 hours ahead. Time for a very early liquid lunch. Into our favourite seafood restaurant. I gratefully sank into my chair and the leg fell off. I managed to brace myself between the table and the wall in a rather undignified pose to avoid hitting the deck. After all we had been through, it was a laugh or cry moment. I chose, or they chose me, uncontrollable giggles. I could tell the waitress thought me highly strung.
|Louis Ghost Chair 2002, Philippe Starck|
The airline provided us a night in a slightly grubby hotel, evidenced by the mummified french fry on the carpet. We gratefully made it to our own precious bed the next day.