If anyone tells you it is
less stressful house hunting than it was selling their property, they’re probably
massaging the truth. Okay, there might be some who find the house of their
dreams with the click of a mouse, but they probably knew exactly which area
they wanted to move to, and weren’t too fussy as long as it filled some basic
criteria. With us it’s more complex. We’ve narrowed it down to Cheshire, north
Shropshire and a bit of Lancashire, and it could be detached, semi-detached,
maybe even a bungalow – a ‘character’ property or something new that has a look
of ‘old’ about it...
I thought a holiday in
Ireland culminating with a Game of
Thrones musical performance in Dublin, would have calmed nerves and reduced
tensions for our return to Cheshire and the resumption of our search. How wrong
I was...
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| Ireland was a welcome break, but the house hunting didn't improve... |
One piece of advice we’d had
from friends is that we shouldn’t be easily dismissive of what we’ve seen
online, and should make arrangements for more internal viewings as opposed to ‘drive-by’
viewings.
With this in mind we took
another look at some of the properties we’d had some interest in but had
dropped because of things we hadn’t liked or because of assumptions we’d made. We’d
always had a soft spot for barn conversions, but what had put us off was the
communal parking that some developments had, and the unlikelihood that we
wouldn’t be able to store our caravan. Maybe we should entertain the prospect
of keeping it elsewhere?
For starters we decided to go
and look at one I’d saved before we went away. It was near Wem in north
Shropshire, a town we quite liked. We followed the instructions on the webpage
that took us off the main road into a network of country lanes. The lanes got
narrower and it was difficult to find any passing-places. We were thinking of
turning around (if that was possible!) when the property came into view. In
fact it wasn’t one property, but four, all in the process of conversion, plus a
farmhouse.
We stopped at the entrance,
and despite the warning signs, and the fact we hadn’t made an appointment,
Linda got out and walked to the end house. We were peering through the window
when a man approached. I explained we were passing and... But he said rather
gruffly that appointments were being handled by the agent. We were preparing to
leave, when he asked us what our ‘situation’ was. When we told him we had sold
our property and were cash buyers, his tone changed immediately. He offered not
only to show us around that house, but the other three too. He even offered us
cake and a cup of tea! Money talks...
We were impressed by the
finish and attention to detail on the work that had been completed. Of the four
we were particularly drawn to one which had a front garden with views across
fields. And it was well within our budget. I was concerned though about the
dining area in the kitchen. I wasn’t convinced it was big enough. We do a lot
of entertaining, so it’s important that we have seating for six if need be, but
certainly four.
As the conversion is in its
early days, we’ve asked for a floor plan with measurements, and we’re planning
a second visit. We took a different route back to the main road – which was
shorter and not as scary. Estate agents take note: Poor access can put off
potential buyers.
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| We liked this - but would the dining area be big enough? |
As we were in the mood for
barn conversions, we booked to view a property, one of a block of four, north
of Nantwich. One had been sold, the two in the middle were empty, and the owner
lived in the other. Ambiguous signage made it difficult to find, so as we were
early, we parked nearby and waited for the agent to arrive. When a car drew up
we assumed it was her, but the driver wanted to know why we were parked on her
drive! It was also the access to the house we’d come to view, so we
wondered if this might be a complication. Another car appeared, and we asked
where Ash Tree Cottage was. The driver pointed us in the right direction, and
finished with ‘good luck’, as if we would need it. It turned out he lived next
door but one.
Louise, the agent, was waiting
for us. Her sales pitch went something like this: ‘I know next door needs some
attention, but the owner is planning to sell it to a builder.’
‘Needs some attention’ was
an understatement! Neglected was more like it. The front door and the window
frames were rotten, and the interior, which we glanced at through a dirty window,
was unkempt and needed gutting. Not a good start.
Things improved when we went
indoors. The property had been updated, and it was spacious, with lots of
light, which is unusual for a barn conversion. The garden was a nice size, and
the view was of open countryside. Upstairs gave us a view too - of next door’s
front garden, the owner of all three properties. It looked like shanty town.
Tall wooden gates, which gave access to his house from the one we were in, were
dilapidated. There was a run-down shed, other unidentifiable ‘buildings’, and
an old caravan that someone was obviously living in.
The property we’d come to
view was blighted by what was either side, which was a shame. We were also unimpressed
by the access, a narrow potholed drive. When Louise phoned us the following day,
we told her we loved the property but not the neighbours. She didn’t argue.
But worse was yet to come...
We’d been aware for some
time of a group of barn conversions on a country estate just inside the
Shropshire border. In fact we’d driven up the long drive some weeks before out
of curiosity, and met one of the residents. “It’s lovely living here,” she
said, “although there are one or two problems.” This turned out to be an
understatement. As we gazed across at the parkland, large parking area and
tennis courts, she informed us there was only one property left for sale. We
already knew that – and we also knew it was beyond our budget.
Some weeks later I got an
alert from Rightmove that said the property had been reduced in price – by
£70,000! Was this too good to be true? We called the agent and arranged a
viewing for the next day. Apparently there were now two houses for sale, as one
had fallen through.
As we arrived a man
appeared. I said to Linda; “Neighbourhood Watch probably.
He wants to know what we’re doing here.” But it was nothing of the sort. “Are you viewing
one of the properties?” he asked. I nodded. “Well there are a few things you
should know if you’re thinking of living here!”
He then told us of
structural defects, uncompleted work and things that had been changed after the
plans had been passed by the council. “I can back everything up with emails,”
he added, just as Sophie, the agent, appeared. The two exchanged a curt ‘hello’
and then she dragged us away towards the first of the two properties, which had
a SOLD sign in the window. She explained that the chain had collapsed.
It was very impressive on
one level. Rooms were spacious and full of light – if anything it was too big
for us. Sophie told us the price had been dropped for a quick sale, and added.
“You don’t even need to move in to make a profit. You could buy it and sell it in
a few months and make a killing!”
While the layout was impressive the finish
wasn’t. Floors were bare, double glazing was narrow, and in places the walls
looked knocked about. Worse of all were the flies; hundreds of black corpses on
every window ledge. “Something’s died,” I muttered, looking at Sophie. She said it had,
but not to worry as the body had been removed. We wondered why someone hadn’t
cleared away the dead flies too.
She didn’t seem too keen for
us to examine the walk-in wardrobe in the master bedroom, and kept talking to
distract us. The evidence was there, one the floor, the outline of a body,
probably a rat, with a circle of dead flies around it.
We’d seen enough, and said we’d
think about it, although in truth there was nothing to think about. We didn’t
need to see the other house, and indeed she never offered to show us around. She
must had realised it was a lost cause. Outside there were now two men waiting.
Sophie got into her car, and the wheels spun on the gravel, showing her
frustration and anger.
“We’re not trying to put you
off buying, the new man said, but we feel anyone considering living here knows
what they’re letting themselves in for.”
They said the sale had
fallen through, not because of a broken chain, but because the buyers’
solicitor could not get answers from the builders to a list of questions
concerning problems on the estate. We were told of a retaining wall that had
moved, shown bare electrical wiring to outside lights buried just beneath the
gravel, learned of sewers not connected and shown examples of poor workmanship.
In someone’s lounge we saw a builder’s pole supporting a wooden beam, which
apparently had started cracking under the weight of the building above.
They showed us emails from
planning officers of the council. The latest was the result of a visit by a
senior officer who said he was writing to the developers with a list of faults,
and giving them ten days to respond, threatening legal action.
The more they told us, the
more we started noticing shoddy work ourselves. Holes in walls plugged with
bricks and mortar which did not match the original, and a lack of pointing that
left gaps between bricks.
We thanked them for their
time and wished them good luck in getting things resolved.
“It’s a nice place to live,”
one of them said sadly. “They need to put everything right, otherwise we will be
left picking up the pieces - literally!”
Read my novels; Stench of Evil https://goo.gl/VQOVuS and The Devil in Them https://goo.gl/aS1cjZ in ebook format and paperback...)
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