The King’s Observatory could be yours for the low, low price of £18 million

Feedback is our weekly column of bizarre stories, implausible advertising claims, confusing instructions and more

Observe this listing

Feedback has, belatedly in life, stumbled upon a new life interest: wildly aspirational property choices. We previously highlighted the Farnborough Centrifuge, a piece of aviation and space-flight history now up for sale as a home for someone with £750,000 to burn. The Centrifuge was still available the last time we checked. Now, chief subeditor Kelsey Hayes has identified an even more expensive domicile up for sale, which has been highlighted by the news site London Centric. Compared with this, she notes, the Farnborough Centrifuge “now seems like a bargain”.

When Feedback opened the tab for the listing, it announced at the top: “Four bedroom detached house for sale”. While this is technically true, it does not quite capture the scale of the property in question.

What is up for sale is the King’s Observatory in Old Deer Park, London. It is a former astronomical observatory, since converted into a private home. It was built on the orders of King George III (as in The Madness of) in the 1760s, so that he and his wife Queen Charlotte (as in Bridgerton) could observe the 1769 transit of Venus. At the time, this was a major scientific endeavour, because it offered a way to determine the distance from Earth to the sun. Evidently the royals wanted to share the excitement.

Careful examination of the listing reveals that the observatory is still operational: one of the photos shows an antique wood and brass telescope housed inside a cupola. Kelsey notes with bemusement that the estate agents do not seem to regard this as a major selling point: “it’s the last photo in the slideshow”.

In the decades after the transit, the observatory was used for an array of scientific tasks, including measuring atmospheric electricity and verifying the accuracy of instruments such as clocks. In the 1980s, it became offices, and in the 21st century, a private home. The listing describes it as having not a garden, but “grounds”, and a drive that can accommodate the adjective “sweeping”. Grecian carp are mentioned.

At this point, Feedback had heard enough. We were poised to book a viewing when we noticed the asking price: £18 million. We find ourselves a tad short. We could try for a mortgage, but we fear that by definition it would be sub-prime.

London Centric did highlight one potential disadvantage of purchasing the King’s Observatory: “You do, however, have to live in the middle of a golf course.” Readers and their spouses will have their own views as to whether this is a plus or a minus.

Dust to dust

We continue our efforts to compile the most niche science-themed tourist attractions from around the world. In this we have been aided by Brian Reffin Smith, who alerts us to “an exceptional wonder”: the Museum of Dust.

The museum is the creation of artist and author Sally Kindberg. It’s a little cabinet, blue on the outside and red inside. It’s divided into eight compartments: two across, four down. Each houses an array of little bottles of dust.

But not just any dust. Sally has gathered samples from around the world. There is dust from the Great Wall of China and from the wrapping of an ancient Egyptian mummy. Another sample comes from yet another museum, the self-explanatory House of Automata. Do not look at photos of the items on display at the House of Automata unless you want to be inspired to write a M3GAN-style horror movie.

Sometimes people send Sally dust, which must surely cause a brief frisson of alarm when she opens the envelope. She has dust from the TARDIS from Doctor Who, sent to her in 2013 by a friend who worked on the show. She also has a sample of dust from the 2007 Celebrity Big Brother house, but has not yet revealed how she obtained it.

Readers eager to see the Museum of Dust need to know it has no permanent home: instead you have to attend one of Sally’s workshops or talks. Just try not to sneeze.

Not in a name

Occasionally Feedback likes to throw a spanner in the works. In that spirit, we will highlight some examples of what we might call anti-nominative determinism: that is, people whose names are the opposite of what we might expect given their jobs.

In Queropalca, a remote district of Peru, a recent mayoral election was won by a candidate named Hitler Mussolini Simeon Flores. That name contains two waving red flags, but, in fact, Hitler Mussolini is a member of the Ahora NaciÓn party, which is on the centre-left.

This sort of thing seems to happen quite a lot in South America. For instance, between 2017 and 2021, the president of Ecuador was one Lenín Moreno. Elected as a social democrat, he pivoted to right-wing economic policies – none of which, one feels, the original Lenin would have approved of.

Likewise, reader Hillary Shaw wrote in to highlight another example of inappropriate naming: the 19th-century poet William Jeffrey Prowse. This one took Feedback a moment to understand because we associate the surname Prowse with the actor who embodied Darth Vader, whereas Hillary simply wanted us to read it without the “w”.

Meanwhile, in Australia, Bonita Ely was alarmed to discover that her next cancer check-up was with a “Dr Kilian”.

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