Confederacy of a Dunce - Buying a flat

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

« This year's first snow | Main | And now a flood of relief »

Warning: this entry contains explicit descriptions of property-buying arrangements. Readers of a non-middle-aged persuasion should perhaps look elsewhere for the time being, or risk being bored stiff.

The past couple of months have been a very stressful time in Dunce-land as we come closer... and closer... and closer... and closer to actually purchasing a flat. Back at the beginning of December it seemed like things were ready to work out. We had received the results of a building survey which revealed nothing particularly problematic as far as we were concerned, but just minor problems we were already aware of (like a door frame that needs to be replaced, decorative elements somewhat less than currently stylish, the attic is perhaps not all that nice, and so on). The survey also pointed out a number of points, apparently very ordinary in nature, that needed to be dealt with by the solicitors for both parties (things like searches of deeds and records, any history of damage, whether the seller has any guarantees on anything that will pass to us, service contracts, blah blah blah-de-blah-de-blah). We asked our solicitors to check on these things, and then we waited.

And waited.

And waited some more. A bit before Christmas we got a festive call from the estate agent, asking us what was going on as the other parties involved were beginning to get a bit antsy. They wanted to complete the deal early in January, he said. We replied that this would be fine with us; our solicitors had requested some apparently-routine information and things would no doubt be moving along soon. Of course, our solicitor's office was closed for the Christmas period by then, so our email enquiry was not answered until the New Year. It seems that the seller's solicitor had not yet deigned to reply. Allegedly, of course. Our solicitors promised to chase them by letter and phone in the hope of sorting things out. Did I mention we bought an expensive sofabed just after Christmas, to be delivered in 4-6 weeks. No problem, we thought, we can just have it delivered to the new place.

Conversations with the estate agent continued regularly, and gained further urgency, because the current owner of the property we are purchasing is also buying a place. The sellers of said place appear to be the antsy ones, threatening to pull out of the deal entirely unless things move along soon. It also started to become clear that the seller's solicitor was (allegedly) a difficult character indeed, according to both the estate agent and our solicitor. He's apparently quite keen to avoid telephone calls, and when finally reached is especially free with vulgarities and insults directed at anyone who is trying to make his life miserable. At one point he apparently stated that he was no longer willing to correspond with our solicitors, accused by him of "talking in riddles", and repeatedly asking all sorts of stupid, pointless questions (those questions that were portrayed as "ordinary" by our surveyor) but also being condescending and rude, when they tried to clarify the confusion.

In the meantime, the level of antsiness had reached an all-time high, with the unknown sellers finally deciding they'd had enough. Either we'd all exchange contracts on 30-January (observant readers will note that this is today's date), or they'd pull out of the whole thing and leave us all to start over again (or so said the estate agent, who, it should be noted, has a very significant interest in having the whole transaction completed ASAP). Fortunately (?) for us, at least some conversation continued between the solicitors, so last week we finally received a large packet of information from our solicitor (containing the contract, payment details, all sorts of details about the property, and a bit of correspondence between the solicitors, further suggesting that the characterization of the seller's solicitors as "difficult" was neither inaccurate nor unfair). Some of this was a pleasant surprise, such as learning that the seller planned to leave some items behind (like a refrigerator, for example, which we thought for sure we'd need to buy ourselves). But we were also informed that one of the longest-running sticking points was still sticking.

The flat we are buying is on the first floor (second floor as they say in the USA), but has access to the rear garden (yard as they say in the USA) via a set of stairs. The lease, however, says nothing about these stairs (which actually appear to encroach upon the downstairs neighbors' garden). Our solicitors quite rightly inquired about the status of these stairs: whether the current resident used them for any purpose and whether we would require access rights to them. This was apparently a riddle worthy of the Sphinx; the seller's solicitor replied that "like most people, the current occupant accesses her flat by the front door". And on, and on, and more on. But apparently the end of the saga of the stairs is in sight; Mrs. Dunce spoke to the estate agent again this morning, and there appears to be a meeting point between a two-sentence clause and a six-sentence clause of a somewhat incoherent nature (three guesses whose is whose). Anyway, having been assured that things would be put in order, yesterday we made some major steps.

Our first stop was the bank, where our bulging bank account was instantly deflated as we zapped every last penny (or so it seemed, anyway) to the solicitors' account. Our second stop was the post office to rush the signed contract to the solicitor. I really shouldn't mention the third stop which was a lunchtime drink at the nearby bowling alley (I should note that lunchtime drinking is a totally extraordinary activity for both of the Dunces, although there were a number of lunchtime revellers also present, for whom this might be a more regular event). And oh yeah, one of the additional requirements of the whole thing, of which we had remained blissfully unaware until receiving the information packet a few days back, was that we were required to insure the property from the moment at which we exchanged contracts (perhaps this very moment). So we had one additional scramble to get insurance in place on short notice. It's not easy, especially when you don't actually have complete information on the property (do all the doors and accessible windows have British standard locks? Heck if we know. And so on). We still managed to do some quick comparison shopping, answered questions carefully (if we didn't know the answer, we chose the less secure option so that the insurance would remain valid if something happened before we figured things out). So our yet-to-be-purchased property is now insured by us.

So it appears that contracts will indeed be exchanged today, although the completion date (i.e., when we get the keys) remains to be decided as far as I know. Then we'll begin all the fun of moving, installing shelves and shower, decorating, and figuring out all the quirks of the new place (never mind the challenge of keeping the cat indoors for a certain period, so she won't work her way back to the old home place a la Poco). Did I mention it's all been a bit overwhelming? And I didn't even mention the phone call on Saturday from the freeholder, who wants to sell it to us, really soon, at a very fair price of £7.5K (No I am not being sarcastic; this does actually appear to be a fair price). If only we hadn't spent all our money on the place itself....

All that said, I think we'll wait until we have the keys before planning a housewarming bash.

consume

Tuesday, January 30, 2007 2:22:43 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)