The first property I owned was a flat in a small block situated in a leafy part of Acton Town...Avenue Road to be exact. Not the period gem that I would have preferred but it was a way of stepping onto that all important ladder in an area where value could be added. It was a 2 bedroomed ground floor flat with a communal garden, close to amenities, tube and train stations twixt trendy Chiswick and genteel Ealing.
For a while, Mel joined me and rented one of the bedrooms whilst she closed a deal on a flat that she was buying in South East London but then, after a few months, I was living alone. The year was 1986 and London was an exciting metropolis and the world was my oyster. I lived life to the full and spent most of my free time going to the ballet, opera, indie clubs, rock concerts, art galleries, independent cinemas (there was a fantastic venue in the High Street), going to the gym, having parties and eventually meeting my future husband just as I was about to sell the property!
I spent 7 very happy years in this flat but soon began itching and knew that it was time to move on. For me, West London was a great place to be and where I wanted to stay. So began the search. Having made a profit on the sale, I was aiming to purchase a period house with features and ended up venturing slightly further west to Hanwell situated just outside Ealing, to make the money go further.
Initially, I was a little underwhelmed at the choice but eventually found a stunning 3 bedroomed Victorian house requiring updating which more or less hovered right above the the A40! I was sorely tempted and undertook several visits to the property to try to convince myself that it was the right purchase to make but ultimately I just couldn't cope with the prospect of having to endure constant noise and pollution.
The estate agent, who was very patient and long suffering, suggested that I considered a terraced house in a fairly new development which, for a single girl, would be the perfect solution between buying something with character without the need for extensive renovation work. The development was situated in 'Hanwell Village' and was previously a factory dating from the Victorian era. It had a quirky arrangement in that the living space and garden was on the ground floor with the kitchen upstairs...but it did have a certain charm.
After much mind wrestling, I decided to make an offer which was accepted. However, one of the drawbacks was that although it was a house, it was leasehold and came with some restrictions most of which seemed reasonable. But having spent 7 years in a flat without the luxury of being able to hang my washing out, I had spent a fortune on running a washer dryer for all those years. I was adamant that I wouldn't be going through that again! Despite the fact that the vendor assured me that it was OK to use the garden for washing, I had my suspicions.
One afternoon, I decided to ring the estate agent requesting another visit to the house before contracts were exchanged. He dutifully agreed and within half an hour we were at the property. As soon as we crossed the threshold and turned into the living room, the evidence was there for us to see. The lounge was covered with washing hanging on the radiators and clothing racks with the sun blazing gloriously outside!
That was it...I knew that, despite having got that far with the exchange of contracts due the next day, it simply was not the house for me. I immediately instructed my solicitor to halt all proceedings and made an appointment to see her that afternoon. Her office was in Wimbledon.
I arrived at Wimbledon station well in advance of my appointment and feeling deflated but also relieved, I felt drawn to resuming my property search straight away.....and there it was! A tired looking semi detached Victorian 3 bedroomed house with a 60ft plus garden well within my budget. I walked into the agent's office and made an appointment to view the property after my appointment with my solicitor.
As soon as I walked into the house, I knew that it would be my next home and, remarkably, that's exactly what came to be!
My very first period gem...in Wimbledon, how cool was that?!!
Saturday, 13 August 2011
Saturday, 25 June 2011
From the ridiculous to the sublime
My interest in property began way back in the 1980s.
I had recently qualified as a teacher and had started work at Gospel Oak Primary school in Hampstead, North London. The problem was that I was still living at home.....in Luton!
Every morning, at the crack of dawn, my Dad dutifully drove me to Luton bus station where I'd board the coach to the Finchley Road station in London (which took just over an hour), I'd then get a train from there to Hampstead.
In the first term of my probationary year, life consisted of little more than lesson plans, marking and commuting.
A fellow graduate friend of mine was also commuting from home and travelling from Kent to London (to the Borough of Camden and Westminster (as it was then) where we both had jobs, albeit at opposite ends of the borough).
Amazingly, a relative of mine was looking to invest in property in the London area and asked my friend and I to hunt on his behalf with a view to us renting from him and his co-invester. My friend Mel and I joined forces and began flat hunting in Acton, West London (where she had lived for part of her childhood) which was accessible for both of us regarding work.
It was at this time that I caught the property bug!
We viewed dozens of properties from new builds to Victorian wrecks and flats with the freehold to maisonettes with shared gardens. I remember that one of the estate agents was a former nurse who explained that she had given up her rewarding but very demanding career to become an agent and she seemed to be riding high on the thrill of all things property.
The thrill for me was walking into any house, flat or maisonette and letting my imagination run wild but ultimately, it was the period properties which were infinitely alluring and captivating. They sat proud and triumphant in all their original glory...even those that had been adapted or modernised were bursting with character and period style. I was well and truly hooked.
Unfortunately, my relative and his business partner decided not invest in London so I began scouring the London Standard property pages for somewhere to rent in North London.
Within a day or two, I had found suitable accommodation...practically next door to work where I could almost hop out of bed into the classroom!
And oh what a beauty of a place!
It was a huge multi storey, rambling Victorian pile that was owned by an eccentric academic couple with a very young adopted son and little money to restore their amazing home. The property was in Savernake Road with a garden that backed onto a railway but even the clatter and rattle of trains going by at frequent intervals couldn't begin to impact negatively on this majestic specimen of prime Victorian architecture.
I agreed to rent a room on the second floor which was furnished with an old oak bed and dresser with William Morris type 'Willow' style curtains. The room was quite dark as it faced North but was brightened in part by the Arts & Crafts style wallcoverings and neutral traditional paint colours. Every part of the house was original....doors, windows, floors.... which all seemed to creak with the weight of responsibility to last for at least another century. The kitchen, which the family also used, was a combination of shabby chic free standing units (more on the shabby side) alongside the original cupboards and ancient Aga.
However, I was in my element...the only issue now was that I was ridiculously close to my place of work with my Year 5 pupils able to watch my every move...or so it seemed!
Soon my graduate friend moved in to the attic room in the house It was a glorious testament to authentic period styling and character. An absolute gem!
I only lived in Savernake Road for a few months before I stepped on to the property ladder in Acton but it was the most magical time for me as I began my journey towards a career in property...albeit over 25 years later!!
I had recently qualified as a teacher and had started work at Gospel Oak Primary school in Hampstead, North London. The problem was that I was still living at home.....in Luton!
Every morning, at the crack of dawn, my Dad dutifully drove me to Luton bus station where I'd board the coach to the Finchley Road station in London (which took just over an hour), I'd then get a train from there to Hampstead.
In the first term of my probationary year, life consisted of little more than lesson plans, marking and commuting.
A fellow graduate friend of mine was also commuting from home and travelling from Kent to London (to the Borough of Camden and Westminster (as it was then) where we both had jobs, albeit at opposite ends of the borough).
Amazingly, a relative of mine was looking to invest in property in the London area and asked my friend and I to hunt on his behalf with a view to us renting from him and his co-invester. My friend Mel and I joined forces and began flat hunting in Acton, West London (where she had lived for part of her childhood) which was accessible for both of us regarding work.
It was at this time that I caught the property bug!
We viewed dozens of properties from new builds to Victorian wrecks and flats with the freehold to maisonettes with shared gardens. I remember that one of the estate agents was a former nurse who explained that she had given up her rewarding but very demanding career to become an agent and she seemed to be riding high on the thrill of all things property.
The thrill for me was walking into any house, flat or maisonette and letting my imagination run wild but ultimately, it was the period properties which were infinitely alluring and captivating. They sat proud and triumphant in all their original glory...even those that had been adapted or modernised were bursting with character and period style. I was well and truly hooked.
Unfortunately, my relative and his business partner decided not invest in London so I began scouring the London Standard property pages for somewhere to rent in North London.
Within a day or two, I had found suitable accommodation...practically next door to work where I could almost hop out of bed into the classroom!
And oh what a beauty of a place!
It was a huge multi storey, rambling Victorian pile that was owned by an eccentric academic couple with a very young adopted son and little money to restore their amazing home. The property was in Savernake Road with a garden that backed onto a railway but even the clatter and rattle of trains going by at frequent intervals couldn't begin to impact negatively on this majestic specimen of prime Victorian architecture.
I agreed to rent a room on the second floor which was furnished with an old oak bed and dresser with William Morris type 'Willow' style curtains. The room was quite dark as it faced North but was brightened in part by the Arts & Crafts style wallcoverings and neutral traditional paint colours. Every part of the house was original....doors, windows, floors.... which all seemed to creak with the weight of responsibility to last for at least another century. The kitchen, which the family also used, was a combination of shabby chic free standing units (more on the shabby side) alongside the original cupboards and ancient Aga.
However, I was in my element...the only issue now was that I was ridiculously close to my place of work with my Year 5 pupils able to watch my every move...or so it seemed!
Soon my graduate friend moved in to the attic room in the house It was a glorious testament to authentic period styling and character. An absolute gem!
I only lived in Savernake Road for a few months before I stepped on to the property ladder in Acton but it was the most magical time for me as I began my journey towards a career in property...albeit over 25 years later!!
Saturday, 4 June 2011
Blow the money
In retrospect, I knew that this one was a non-starter but I'm a sucker for houses needing thoughtful care and attention in the fear that they will be ruthlessly exploited and stripped of their character and features...it literally hurts!
So, against (my) better judgement, we set the ball rolling with this one. Again, we were back to a case of needing to sympathetically pull everything back to its bare bones and starting again. Our experience was such that we had a very clear idea of what the price should be....considering the market and the neglected state of the property and our offer, after some negotiation, was accepted. The dulcet tones of bells ringing and fireworks cracking alighting my mind's sky...not at all which was a bit worrying but, nonetheless, we proceeded to pursue this as our next family home.
I have to admit that I was finding it difficult to visualise the end product as, for example, the separate bathroom and toilet were hidden at the back of a half landing with hardly enough room for Button, our cat. I'd imagine that the bathroom and toilet fittings had seen better days about 30 years before. But the 5 bedrooms were huge and all had special features such as original cornicing and fireplaces...even the radiators worked but the floors were a bit wonky.
The garden was very large with mature trees and lush shrubs, thanks to the nieces from Weston, but still required some considerable landscaping.
Oh, forgot to mention that the kitchen was non-existent and consisted of an aluminuim sink with a cold tap, was painted bright orange and had a chintz style rag dressing the window!
At this stage, we had a new mortgage offer and alongside the general survey from the lender, Mike began muttering about potential drainage problems, underpinning and a whole host of other horrors. So we had a full structural survey at eyewatering cost to our ever depleting resources.
The report was not good and, to make matters worse, our lender asked us to spend yet more money on having a more sophisticated survey done with no guarantee that they would approve the loan following this type of spend.
We had no option but to lower our offer.
The estate agent was furious and the vendor's representatives were disgruntled to say the least and refused our latest offer.
Several months later, we were still smarting from this experience and felt very strongly that our last offer was totally fair. Indeed, we regularly clicked onto nethouseprices to view the eventual sale price.
VINDICATION!!! We were not too surprised to note that the eventual sale price was almost identical to our final offer.
Worse still, however, was the new owner's idea of property enhancement. One afternoon, long after we eventually purchased our house, I took a detour and drove down the road where this house was situated.
I was so shocked at the property's 'transformation'...the uPVC screamed out contaminating the soul of the building....even the brand new glass window panels looked plastic and artificial. The plants and shrubs in the front garden had long been suffocated with unnaturally coloured paving slabs, totally out of character for this beautiful house.
The property now sat awkwardly, embarrased and shamed, in its new modern outfit....the remnants of its glorious past and bespoke decoration and character, flung nonchalently into a roadside skip by those with money who know no better.
So, against (my) better judgement, we set the ball rolling with this one. Again, we were back to a case of needing to sympathetically pull everything back to its bare bones and starting again. Our experience was such that we had a very clear idea of what the price should be....considering the market and the neglected state of the property and our offer, after some negotiation, was accepted. The dulcet tones of bells ringing and fireworks cracking alighting my mind's sky...not at all which was a bit worrying but, nonetheless, we proceeded to pursue this as our next family home.
I have to admit that I was finding it difficult to visualise the end product as, for example, the separate bathroom and toilet were hidden at the back of a half landing with hardly enough room for Button, our cat. I'd imagine that the bathroom and toilet fittings had seen better days about 30 years before. But the 5 bedrooms were huge and all had special features such as original cornicing and fireplaces...even the radiators worked but the floors were a bit wonky.
The garden was very large with mature trees and lush shrubs, thanks to the nieces from Weston, but still required some considerable landscaping.
Oh, forgot to mention that the kitchen was non-existent and consisted of an aluminuim sink with a cold tap, was painted bright orange and had a chintz style rag dressing the window!
At this stage, we had a new mortgage offer and alongside the general survey from the lender, Mike began muttering about potential drainage problems, underpinning and a whole host of other horrors. So we had a full structural survey at eyewatering cost to our ever depleting resources.
The report was not good and, to make matters worse, our lender asked us to spend yet more money on having a more sophisticated survey done with no guarantee that they would approve the loan following this type of spend.
We had no option but to lower our offer.
The estate agent was furious and the vendor's representatives were disgruntled to say the least and refused our latest offer.
Several months later, we were still smarting from this experience and felt very strongly that our last offer was totally fair. Indeed, we regularly clicked onto nethouseprices to view the eventual sale price.
VINDICATION!!! We were not too surprised to note that the eventual sale price was almost identical to our final offer.
Worse still, however, was the new owner's idea of property enhancement. One afternoon, long after we eventually purchased our house, I took a detour and drove down the road where this house was situated.
I was so shocked at the property's 'transformation'...the uPVC screamed out contaminating the soul of the building....even the brand new glass window panels looked plastic and artificial. The plants and shrubs in the front garden had long been suffocated with unnaturally coloured paving slabs, totally out of character for this beautiful house.
The property now sat awkwardly, embarrased and shamed, in its new modern outfit....the remnants of its glorious past and bespoke decoration and character, flung nonchalently into a roadside skip by those with money who know no better.
Friday, 3 June 2011
Preserved in aspic
Continuing our search and finding another suitable wreck proved to be quite a breeze as we were wafted into the parallel road where (although we weren't aware at the time) there were 3 potentials.
A 'For Sale' board usually gets me twitching with excitement and this little gem was no exception. The house which had all of the original windows was painted black and white and bellowed its potential to those who cared to notice and there were few who were interested in this rather sad neglected gem.
Prior to viewing, we got to meet as many of the neighbours as we possibly could. There were several like minded families a stone's throw from the property with houses which had been lovingly restored.....wooden windows, original stained glass main doors, Minton floor tiles etc. They spoke fondly of the area but also had tales of woe regarding one or two of the rented buildings nearby but, on the whole, the vibe was positive.
Viewing day arrived!
As we crossed the threshold there was a rush of excitement as we stepped onto original tiles into the dark hallway with peeling wallpaper, retro coloured paint and detailed cornicing. We were literally stepping back in time as the house had not been occupied for several years. The owner, an elderly lady, now lived in a care home and the house was being looked after by her nieces who lived in a seaside town in the south west. It was becoming increasingly difficult for them to trek from Weston super Mare to Birmingham on a regular basis and, as costs were ever increasing, the house had to be sold.
My husband was immediately taken with the house. Almost everything had been preserved....windows, fireplaces, patio doors, flooring etc. The space was immense but I felt less keen. Although we had met some great neighbours, the ones that the house was sandwiched between were proving more elusive and were not available after several attempts to meet them. The properties were definitely occupied by tenants and in a poor state of repair which left me feeling vulnerable and suspecting that it would be quite a task to get hold of the landlord should any issues arise. But, oh, this house was a beauty which left me sorely tempted and in a real dilemma!
A 'For Sale' board usually gets me twitching with excitement and this little gem was no exception. The house which had all of the original windows was painted black and white and bellowed its potential to those who cared to notice and there were few who were interested in this rather sad neglected gem.
Prior to viewing, we got to meet as many of the neighbours as we possibly could. There were several like minded families a stone's throw from the property with houses which had been lovingly restored.....wooden windows, original stained glass main doors, Minton floor tiles etc. They spoke fondly of the area but also had tales of woe regarding one or two of the rented buildings nearby but, on the whole, the vibe was positive.
Viewing day arrived!
As we crossed the threshold there was a rush of excitement as we stepped onto original tiles into the dark hallway with peeling wallpaper, retro coloured paint and detailed cornicing. We were literally stepping back in time as the house had not been occupied for several years. The owner, an elderly lady, now lived in a care home and the house was being looked after by her nieces who lived in a seaside town in the south west. It was becoming increasingly difficult for them to trek from Weston super Mare to Birmingham on a regular basis and, as costs were ever increasing, the house had to be sold.
My husband was immediately taken with the house. Almost everything had been preserved....windows, fireplaces, patio doors, flooring etc. The space was immense but I felt less keen. Although we had met some great neighbours, the ones that the house was sandwiched between were proving more elusive and were not available after several attempts to meet them. The properties were definitely occupied by tenants and in a poor state of repair which left me feeling vulnerable and suspecting that it would be quite a task to get hold of the landlord should any issues arise. But, oh, this house was a beauty which left me sorely tempted and in a real dilemma!
Saturday, 21 May 2011
You spin me right 'round!
As previously mentioned, the house was jointly owned by a couple (who weren't!). She, an earthy professional type, wanted out but he, dark and elusive by his absence, didn't want to sell and couldn't afford to buy her half...mortgages, loans etc. were very thin on the ground at the time...nothing new there then! So with a great deal of reluctance, the house was up for sale..i.e it was in her mind but, as we were to find out at our cost, not his!
A second visit, where we were lead by our heads rather than our hearts, proved to be a decisive one. The girls skipped around the house and frolicked in the garden and I'd already met half the neighbourhood by knocking on doors and more or less introducing myself as the new owner of number 85. However, I wasn't too sure about the gentleman at number 77 and his cacophonous cockerel which seemed a little confused about the time of day it was, such was its screeching and bellowing. But, all in all, we felt that this house with all its potential was the house for us.
Eager to set the ball rolling, once home, we rang the vendor and made the offer....quite cheeky but fair in the current climate. We then hovered with bated breath. She seemed very pleased with the offer and indicated that she felt it was a fair price but, naturally she would need to speak to the co-owner who was due back from Spain later that evening.
A few hours later, we got a text stating that all was well and that he had also accepted the offer. Phew - what a relief and we'd managed to save our mortgage offer too!
However, metaphorically speaking, the bricks and mortar were not as solid as we were led to believe.
Our excitement was at fever pitch as, unusually for us, this property was one that we could move into straight away without having to gut it and practically start again. I began to think new kitchen and designer interiors whilst my husband had already begun to plan the extension the house so desperately needed. We realised that we needed measurements and plans etc. so we attempted to arrange to revisit the house.
A real sense of foreboding began to spread as our emails, text and phone messages were not acknowledged or returned. Then, around 24 hours after our offer had been accepted, she text us to say that he had decided that, by hook or by crook, he would buy her out for at least half of our offer.
So, that was that........onwards and upwards as they say and put it all down to life's tapestry of experience!!!
A second visit, where we were lead by our heads rather than our hearts, proved to be a decisive one. The girls skipped around the house and frolicked in the garden and I'd already met half the neighbourhood by knocking on doors and more or less introducing myself as the new owner of number 85. However, I wasn't too sure about the gentleman at number 77 and his cacophonous cockerel which seemed a little confused about the time of day it was, such was its screeching and bellowing. But, all in all, we felt that this house with all its potential was the house for us.
Eager to set the ball rolling, once home, we rang the vendor and made the offer....quite cheeky but fair in the current climate. We then hovered with bated breath. She seemed very pleased with the offer and indicated that she felt it was a fair price but, naturally she would need to speak to the co-owner who was due back from Spain later that evening.
A few hours later, we got a text stating that all was well and that he had also accepted the offer. Phew - what a relief and we'd managed to save our mortgage offer too!
However, metaphorically speaking, the bricks and mortar were not as solid as we were led to believe.
Our excitement was at fever pitch as, unusually for us, this property was one that we could move into straight away without having to gut it and practically start again. I began to think new kitchen and designer interiors whilst my husband had already begun to plan the extension the house so desperately needed. We realised that we needed measurements and plans etc. so we attempted to arrange to revisit the house.
A real sense of foreboding began to spread as our emails, text and phone messages were not acknowledged or returned. Then, around 24 hours after our offer had been accepted, she text us to say that he had decided that, by hook or by crook, he would buy her out for at least half of our offer.
So, that was that........onwards and upwards as they say and put it all down to life's tapestry of experience!!!
Thursday, 19 May 2011
Property merry-go-round
I have to admit that I'm one of those individuals who finds it very difficult to admit defeat. Coupled with my keen interest in and stamina for house hunting, I certainly wasn't going to let the last disappointment put me off continuing the search for our characterful home.
There were several to choose from which appeared to tick many of our boxes and, one in particular, with the prestigious B17 postcode. Details had been posted on one of those, 'We don't rip you off when selling your house' websites and all arrangements for viewing were done directly with the vendor...and what an interesting set up this was!
The house itself was Victorian and had 3 storeys with a 'self contained' flat on the top floor and was jointly owned by two individuals who were not a couple. Much of its external character had been destroyed by the introduction of uPVC windows along with a rather unsightly reconstruction of the original porch. However, all was not lost as much of what had been lost could be reinstated over time.
The property next door was also for sale and had been for very many months. Naturally, we'd viewed it a few days before and were horrified at how much it had been violated by the current owners. Also Victorian, this house had been rendered in a coarse tone of sandy yellow with, again, panes of glass strangled by uPVC. The interior design was a combination of mock Queen Anne laced with a hint of 1970s chintz, screaming brass light fittings alongside dark mahogany furniture. The 'conservatory' appeared to be the result of a sixth former's weekend woodwork project finished just in time for Saturday teatime telly. I daren't even guide you upstairs.....!
My apologies for digressing - back to next door. Now, this solid house had Minton tiles in the hallway, high ceilings and one or two original features. The potential was evident and as we toured each room, it became a strong contender. Flushed with the disappointment of losing the other house and smarting at the speed in which we needed to act to safeguard our mortgage offer, I was keen to start thinking about making a decision particularly as we could still get this through with our current lender....just! With its large rooms, ample space, sizeable garden, garage with rear access, convenient proximity to the girls' school, local shops and other essentials, I felt well able to cope with the property's tired persona and, by now, the mood board was already firmly fixed in my mind.
We arranged to revisit the following day with children and grandparents in tow to assist with that all important decision. But there was one thing that we'd overlooked....
There were several to choose from which appeared to tick many of our boxes and, one in particular, with the prestigious B17 postcode. Details had been posted on one of those, 'We don't rip you off when selling your house' websites and all arrangements for viewing were done directly with the vendor...and what an interesting set up this was!
The house itself was Victorian and had 3 storeys with a 'self contained' flat on the top floor and was jointly owned by two individuals who were not a couple. Much of its external character had been destroyed by the introduction of uPVC windows along with a rather unsightly reconstruction of the original porch. However, all was not lost as much of what had been lost could be reinstated over time.
The property next door was also for sale and had been for very many months. Naturally, we'd viewed it a few days before and were horrified at how much it had been violated by the current owners. Also Victorian, this house had been rendered in a coarse tone of sandy yellow with, again, panes of glass strangled by uPVC. The interior design was a combination of mock Queen Anne laced with a hint of 1970s chintz, screaming brass light fittings alongside dark mahogany furniture. The 'conservatory' appeared to be the result of a sixth former's weekend woodwork project finished just in time for Saturday teatime telly. I daren't even guide you upstairs.....!
My apologies for digressing - back to next door. Now, this solid house had Minton tiles in the hallway, high ceilings and one or two original features. The potential was evident and as we toured each room, it became a strong contender. Flushed with the disappointment of losing the other house and smarting at the speed in which we needed to act to safeguard our mortgage offer, I was keen to start thinking about making a decision particularly as we could still get this through with our current lender....just! With its large rooms, ample space, sizeable garden, garage with rear access, convenient proximity to the girls' school, local shops and other essentials, I felt well able to cope with the property's tired persona and, by now, the mood board was already firmly fixed in my mind.
We arranged to revisit the following day with children and grandparents in tow to assist with that all important decision. But there was one thing that we'd overlooked....
Saturday, 14 May 2011
Wrecked and cruched
How it all began....circa 2008
Having rented for over a year, we felt it high time to start searching in earnest for a suitable home that could last us for at least the next 20 years. Our problem (meaning my other half's problem) was that we were unable to consider any homes already refurbished. What this generally meant was that we ended up viewing homes that were severely wilting with neglect but, on the upside, they had that all important 'potential'. Moving from the south (London to be exact) where everyone draws pistols at dawn for the latest bargain that needs renovating, we were spoilt rotten by the variety of choice and the size of property that one could gain in Birmingham for much less than the equivalent in the south east.
I'd lost count of the sizeable (at least 5 bedrooms, 3 reception rooms, 2 bathrooms etc.) that we'd seen over the months. The near derelict ones were, in fact, the most exciting and had usually languished amongst the 'For Sale' sections of newspapers, search engines and property websites for many months indeed.
The drawback, however, is that we would most likely have to live amongst the dust, dirt, chaos and noise whilst a rather slow renovation project ensued, in order to save money. Not so sure about that part of the bargain!
Unsurprisingly, however, the credit crunch was beginning to have a pretty potent negative impact on sellers, many of whom had decided to drop prices by extraordinary amounts.
So, having fiercely researched the area and interviewed all of the neighbours (one can never be too careful these days), we decided to put in an offer on a rather unloved but huge 6 bedroomed house with a sizeable garden....all within 15 minutes of the centre of town! The couple selling had lived in the house for over 40 years and were really keen to move north of the border to be near family and friends.
The rather facetious offer we made was around £100,000 less than the asking price. Well, to be honest, we'd already resumed our search for the ultimate dream home when there was no word from the chirpy estate agent 4 days after the offer had been made.
Then, the mobile began singing and, amazingly, we learnt that the vendors had accepted our offer!
However, our joy and hopes were soon dashed after further investigation revealed untold horrors (even ones that left us shaky despite our seasoned experience within the field of rescuing propery wrecks) and we, regrettably, had to withdraw our offer as the house wasn't worth the price pursuing without a further drop in the price. In our experience, it is important to define the point of needing to move on....which is exactly what we did despite our love of and vision for the property.To add to the tale of woe, our lender had been bought out by another building society and we informed by our broker that we would have to find a property, have it valued and approved by them by the following Monday (about 5 working days) or lose the mortgage and apply all over again!
Much weeping and a wailing, as you can imagine how this little tale panned out.......but .I must tell you that the plot certainly thickened with the next property!!
Having rented for over a year, we felt it high time to start searching in earnest for a suitable home that could last us for at least the next 20 years. Our problem (meaning my other half's problem) was that we were unable to consider any homes already refurbished. What this generally meant was that we ended up viewing homes that were severely wilting with neglect but, on the upside, they had that all important 'potential'. Moving from the south (London to be exact) where everyone draws pistols at dawn for the latest bargain that needs renovating, we were spoilt rotten by the variety of choice and the size of property that one could gain in Birmingham for much less than the equivalent in the south east.
I'd lost count of the sizeable (at least 5 bedrooms, 3 reception rooms, 2 bathrooms etc.) that we'd seen over the months. The near derelict ones were, in fact, the most exciting and had usually languished amongst the 'For Sale' sections of newspapers, search engines and property websites for many months indeed.
The drawback, however, is that we would most likely have to live amongst the dust, dirt, chaos and noise whilst a rather slow renovation project ensued, in order to save money. Not so sure about that part of the bargain!
Unsurprisingly, however, the credit crunch was beginning to have a pretty potent negative impact on sellers, many of whom had decided to drop prices by extraordinary amounts.
So, having fiercely researched the area and interviewed all of the neighbours (one can never be too careful these days), we decided to put in an offer on a rather unloved but huge 6 bedroomed house with a sizeable garden....all within 15 minutes of the centre of town! The couple selling had lived in the house for over 40 years and were really keen to move north of the border to be near family and friends.
The rather facetious offer we made was around £100,000 less than the asking price. Well, to be honest, we'd already resumed our search for the ultimate dream home when there was no word from the chirpy estate agent 4 days after the offer had been made.
Then, the mobile began singing and, amazingly, we learnt that the vendors had accepted our offer!
However, our joy and hopes were soon dashed after further investigation revealed untold horrors (even ones that left us shaky despite our seasoned experience within the field of rescuing propery wrecks) and we, regrettably, had to withdraw our offer as the house wasn't worth the price pursuing without a further drop in the price. In our experience, it is important to define the point of needing to move on....which is exactly what we did despite our love of and vision for the property.To add to the tale of woe, our lender had been bought out by another building society and we informed by our broker that we would have to find a property, have it valued and approved by them by the following Monday (about 5 working days) or lose the mortgage and apply all over again!
Much weeping and a wailing, as you can imagine how this little tale panned out.......but .I must tell you that the plot certainly thickened with the next property!!
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