So why does this matter? Because it’s fun to dream. You don’t need a snow room to be happy. Your home has something Antilia probably doesn’t: that feeling of yours. The mismatched socks drying on the radiator. The dog hair on the couch.
Antilia is a monument to extreme ambition, but it’s also a little bit lonely. A 27-story house with 600 staff? You’d have to take a map to find your own family. Your spouse yells “Honey, where are you?” from the next room. In Antilia, they’d need a radio.
In the end, the most expensive residence in the world is a magnificent oddity. It’s like a spaceship landed in Mumbai. You can read about it, smile at the absurdity of having a snow machine in a tropical city, and then go back to your own little kingdom.
And you know what? Your kingdom has one big advantage: it’s humble, it’s yours, and nobody’s going to charge you $2 billion to keep the lights on. Now that’s a bargain.
