It felt a bit lower than it ought to. Perhaps because I'm used to playing midi keyboards off of tables. We can sort that with a adjustable piano stool. I went right through the keyboard, and it all seemed to be in tune. The very top E at the far right hand end seemed a bit reluctant, but maybe that was just me, at the end of a stretch with wee finger 5. The action on the keys is so much easier than on a midi keyboard, which has a kind of springy, squashy feel, whereas a real piano like this has a counter-balanced, see-saw kind of feel. It's going to be quite a different feeling - easier.
I told the seller, a young man called Steven, of the plan to do the grade exams, and he said, "So you want it to practice on?" I said, yes, that I needed it for that and because... I couldn't find the words, and he supplied them: "And it's much more fun." The good old F word, which always came to mind when trying to explain to a digital native the reason why I did analog photography.
Googling around Kemble last night I realised they tended to name their pianos after towns and cities. One of their posher models, for example, being a Kemble Cambridge. I'm not sure what to make of this one being a Kemble Sunderland. It certainly sounds unpretentious, and I've got to admit I'd be happier with a Newcastle or even a Gateshead, if, indeed, such models ever came out of their factory. The description in gumtree said 1936, and that's no doubt been ascertained from the serial number under the lid. So it looks as if, as with photography, I'm going to fall into a vernacular groove from a bygone age.
Because, I slept on the idea, and then emailed AND texted Steven this morning to say yes, let's arrange payment and delivery.