Once again, I am going to interrupt the property history side of this blog by telling you of the latest encounters I have had with estate agents. Yes, I am sure there are some good ones out there. I could name one, from a large, rather pushy agency beginning with F, who hasn't yet given up on me and every week I hear his cheery voice on the phone, telling me of a 'great property' I should view instantly. It usually turns out to be too far from transport, or lacking storage or a balcony, but at least he's trying.
Not like some others I could mention.
On May 10th, I had an email from the agent about a bargain property in Finchley that had been reduced by a whacking £60k for a quick sale, bringing it into my price range - just. I emailed back, suggesting dates and times that I could view and heard nothing. On May 18th, I finally made contact. Apparently my email had gone into his Spam folder. Strange, considering we had emailed each other before.
I whacked an email straight back, suggesting times to view on the 20th May. On the 19th, I emailed again with a few important queries. My friend had kindly checked out the exterior and reported back that it was very scruffy and in need of exterior repair and redecoration so I asked the agent if there was a sinking fund for repairs and if there was anything planned, which was a fair enough question as the buyer could have got stuck with a large bill. He never got back to me. I can only assume someone else snapped it up - an investor perhaps, who didn't bug him with awkward questions - and he couldn't be bothered to reply.
Then I found a cottage on Rightmove and rang the agent last week to ask for a viewing. I was told that the owner was away and he was waiting for keys and would ring me on Monday. It's now Wednesday, Aaargh!
Meanwhile, on the 19th May, another agent rang about a 2-bed flat that was about to come on the market in my ideal area and he had no details or photos yet but it was perfect for me. However, it was £20k over my price limit. He said he was organising a block viewing (I loathe them!) and would let me know when. Later that day, Ping!, a viewing appointment landed in my In-box for 10.30 am this Friday. As I live 25 miles away and don't drive, it would take me 2 hours to get there, and in the rush hour, too. I replied, saying I'd try to fix up a bed for a night with a friend in north London.
Friend couldn't oblige as she had someone else staying that night, so this morning I emailed the agent - to be told, and I quote verbatim: 'No worries the vendor has found a buyer the property has been put on hold I will let you know if something else comes up.'
Aaargh again! I was fuming. He hadn't told me, so I could have stayed on my friend's hideously uncomfortable sofa bed, gone to the viewing and found nobody there! I suppose I should give him the benefit of the doubt and concede that perhaps he would have emailed to tell me, but I have a feeling that he would have forgotten. In fact, his words, 'the vendor has found a buyer' makes me think that perhaps this was a private deal and the agent was deprived of his commission and had developed selective amnesia about that flat.
I do have something momentarily 'in the bag' if I wanted it. It's not in the area I want, it's in the area I live now, that is boring as hell and has nothing remotely going for it, but it's a private sale through an online agency, Purple Bricks, and the owner led me to believe that she was willing to drop the price for a quick sale. But - several 'buts' coming up now - the master bedroom was in the converted loft and had no ensuite, which would mean me trekking down the stairs and along the corridor in the middle of the night (if I had an attack of Delhi belly, I'd never make it), there were no wardrobes - she had all her clothes on portable rails of the kind you see at car boots, the lounge was very cramped as she'd had to nip 5 ft off it to create a hallway and staircase leading to the loft conversion, and the garden can only be accessed by going out of the front door and unlocking the side gate, then creeping through the downstairs flat's garden.
But at least it's a sale that doesn't involve bloody agents, so I am seriously considering going in with a bid. Yet... I do long to get back to my old patch and be able to nip onto buses to see friends and go into town, instead of making my present journey which involves a half hour journey to the tube, an hour into Kings Cross, then another half hour to wherever I'm going.
Will this three year long search ever end?
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