After a 310 mile round trip we are laden down with paper, but no nearer finding a home.
The little cottage tucked away in the valley overlooking the river was quaint and cute.
We even met the neighbours. Two bedroom, lounge/diner, new kitchen, bathroom, it ticked the boxes. We loved it, especially because it was different.
Inside, the rooms were a good size, a little bit of damp but not much, and everything was sound. The kitchen had not been planned very well, but taking out the floor cupboards and re-arranging them with a new worktop was well within our capabilities.
It had off road parking, but sadly that was all there was. The little gravelled area at the back was too small to convert to a ‘lawn’ or garden, and there was absolutely nowhere to put up a washing line, let alone have a veg patch.
There was a wood burner in the lounge but nowhere on the property where we could store a year’s supply of wood and park the car.
As land is an issue we could not get around, we had to walk away, both of us gutted.
We viewed a second property, which overlooked another valley and access was up a very steep set of roads. It was quite nice, a bit untidy in the decor, but again, nothing beyond us.
There was a small garden and off road parking, which were OK and adequate.
What put us off was the guy doing the viewing………. or more what he was saying.
He was a neighbour, as according to the estate agent, the vendor liked to do his own viewings, but he wasn’t available so he’d asked a neighbour to fill in.
But, although he was very pleasant in his manner, alarm bells started to ring.
He said the vendor was an old lady in a home in one sentence, dead in another, and living in the property with their daughter in a third. All the cupboards were empty as were the fridge and freezer which had been cleaned and the doors left open.
There was also the question of annual grounds maintenance and full time occupancy, suggesting this was a holiday home, not a permanent residence.
Apparently, said our new friend, you could take a chance and offer to pay the council an extra charge every year on top of your £1200 council tax to permit you to live there full time.
Another off the list then, though I’ve mentioned these points to the selling agents as it needs to be looked into.
We did sign on with five estate agents though, and this morning our In Box is full of properties that they didn’t appear to have to show us details of yesterday.
Tired and more than a little despondent, we had an early night, but a smoke alarm went off at 2.15 distressing the dog, so we had to discover which one it was and replace the batteries before trying to go back to sleep.
Hubby is exhausted so I’ve left him in bed, getting up at 7.30 to walk Maggie and prepare my email feedback to the agents for yesterday (I won’t send it until Hubby’s read it).
We’ll keep looking.
I didn’t go to SW last night, even though I could have gone in at the end just to be weighed, so I shall go with the diabetic nurse weigh in and accept I’ve stayed the same.