There's a particular feeling that settles in after a few weeks of a listing going nowhere. The enquiries that lead nowhere. The offers that feel like an insult to everything the vehicle meant to your family. The quiet worry that the price needs to come down again.
It isn't the vehicle. It never was.
The buyers who pay what something is truly worth aren't responding to specifications. They're responding to a feeling, the possibility of their own story beginning where yours ended.
That story has to be told before they'll ever make the journey to see it.
A few years ago I helped our parents sell their motorhome. I took too many photographs. Wrote too much copy. Put more into it than anyone thought was necessary.
A couple drove from Coventry to Bristol. Walked round it. Didn't negotiate. Paid the asking price, several thousand pounds more than our parents ever thought it could be worth.
On the way out they said two things I haven't forgotten.
"Your listing told a story." And, "You should be doing this for a living."