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My generation’s retirement prospects are grim – but I have a blissful plan

2 20 0

You know those conversations that keep coming round, such as what you would do if the apocalypse happened (dig down), or where you would go if you had a time machine (either Cleopatra’s Egypt or a Cloud Atlas future to meet face-tat Hugh Grant)? One that occurs more and more within my friendship groups is about communal living in retirement: everyone chipping in to buy a house together, where we can play endless games of Mario Kart, sing D’Angelo round the Bösendorfer and indulge in vast quantities of mind-bending prescription drugs. I feel fairly confident that I’m a few decades away from having to think about it seriously, but I reckon waltzing through the twilight years in a shared house with all your mates could be a great way to loll about before the music stops and the needle lifts.

I have just had a little taste of what it might be like. My friends Elen and James very sensibly got married in Cepha-bloomin’-lonia, and a whole big gang of us (maybe 16 in total, including bride and groom) were all bundled into one big villa for the week. It was nothing short of utopian: to while away the days in gooey sunlight, never wholly sober, comparing mosquito bites and discussing everything other than Tr**p and Br***t, among a clique so unquenchably fun, so unquestioningly generous and so totally incapable of monitoring their alcohol consumption. The........

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