Almanac Life: Notes From The Property Search Frontline

 

 

Along with two of our sons, for the best part of the past eighteen months or more, my wife and I have been engaged in a – thus far – fruitless property search. Sons #2 and #3 are both desperate to find their own abodes, to move out of the family home, and to move forward with building their own lives. We are more than willing to assist them in this process, offering them our advice, and looking forward to the day we become ‘empty-nesters’. Eight months ago, the hunt increased in intensity. I could not begin to tally the number of apartments and flats we have traipsed through at “open for inspections”, but I suspect the number would be approaching three figures.

 

The Saturday Ritual

The routine for many a Saturday morning of the past summer has followed a vaguely similar path: double-check the list of properties which we have compiled throughout the week; physically check out said properties; put a line through most properties; arrive home in the afternoon dispirited. So, by this stage, we have just about seen and heard it all. There are too many stories to relate, but what follows are some highlights and lowlights that we have encountered in the property search. Caveat emptor, indeed!

 

Latrobe St, Melbourne

If the quoted price of a property looks too good to be true, then it definitely is too good to be true. And when it comes to apartments and flats, a low quoted price means that there is some issue or defect, as I found when we wandered through this reasonably priced one-bedroom apartment. Opening kitchen cupboards, scrutinising bathroom fittings. When I made for the sliding door to walk out onto the small balcony, the real estate agent called out to me. “No, no, no. You can’t go out there. That balcony is unsafe.” The agent explained that the joists were rotting and, as such, he did not want to be held accountable for any tragedy that may have been even vaguely foreseen. Given we were five floors above the street, I agreed that his logic was sound. Despite his argument that he’d “had quotes” that suggested the balcony could be repaired for less than $10,000, the look I gave him left him in no doubt that I wouldn’t consider recommending this apartment to my son for his consideration. To be fair, in return, the besuited gent gave me a look that said he knew he had been tasked with attempting to sell a shit sandwich.

 

Victoria St, Footscray

The two bedroom apartment presented well, and was reasonably priced. Initially, I was impressed, so we went back for a second look. “The vendor is keen to sell,” the agent whispered conspiratorially. But the faint trace of water damage on the carpet in the living room was a red flag. “What about that stain?” I asked. “There was some sort of water leak, but it has been repaired,” replied the agent. I studied the Section 32. The plan showed that the balcony of the unit upstairs was directly above the living area. And had obviously leaked at some stage. Sigh. Another property struck off the list.

 

City Rd, Southbank

I don’t usually suffer from vertigo, but venturing out onto the tiny outdoor balcony of this 35^th floor apartment gave me a queasy feeling. I was relieved when my son agreed that we were just too high up in the air.

 

Jeffcott St, West Melbourne

The agent was now over fifteen minutes late, and a tetchy crowd had assembled on the street. Not known for my patience, I rang the agent’s office and was told that he had been held up at the previous open-for-inspection, but was now in transit. When he finally arrived, he claimed that he’d had “car troubles”. I rolled my eyes and said “Mate, never bullshit a bullshitter.” This bad start was only to deteriorate. The ceiling of the parking garage was rotting, and the building itself reeked of rising damp.

 

Chetwynd St, North Melbourne

Owners’ Corporation fees seem to vary wildly, and do not necessarily equate with whether a building has elevators, car-stackers, gyms, and/or swimming pools. The OC fee for this otherwise excellent one-bedroom unit was $3,750. Per quarter. I trekked outside and asked the agent if there was a mistake on the print-out? “Fifteen grand per year? That is by far the most expensive OC fees we have seen. By about $7,000!!” The young agent looked at me blankly and asked, “Is it a deal breaker?” I assured him that, at $288 per week, it most certainly was.

 

Bank St, South Melbourne

It may surprise you to learn that the majority of real-estate agents with whom I have engaged have been great to deal with. But there is still the occasional old-school second-hand-car salesman. As I was quickly crossing this property off the list, and attempting to beat a hasty retreat, the agent collared me. “Are you looking for yourselves?” I said that I was inspecting on behalf of my son. “And where’s your son? Still in bed?” he chortled. “Actually,” I responded, “He started work at 6am this morning.” I wondered when was the last time this bloke had been left speechless. I encountered him again at an open in Queens Rd where he just about rolled out the red carpet for me.

 

Millers Rd, North Altona

“Will the vendor accept offers prior to auction?” I asked the agent. My son liked the property, but the agent stressed that the vendors were keen to go to auction and would not be entertaining early offers. Until they did. Two days prior to the auction, the agent emailed me to say that the vendors had received an offer that they were prepared to accept. I could barely contain my fury when I called him. “I tried to call you,” he said, feebly. But I’d had no missed calls, texts, nor messages left in the message bank. We submitted an offer that we knew would be unders. And unsurprisingly, we never received an email or call to tell us that the bid was unsuccessful.

 

Chetwynd St, North Melbourne

Sometimes, a property will have been tastefully ‘styled’ – with couches that have never been sat in, tables that have never been eaten off, and beds that have never been slept in. I would recommend that any vendor styles their property for sale if they can. Because the alternative can be downright shocking. A large proportion of the properties which we have inspected have been tenanted, which means that when one is inspecting a property one is simultaneously peeking through a window into other people’s lives. I will never cease to be amazed by the amount of clutter and detritus that some humans accumulate. On this memorable occasion in North Melbourne, the agent advised us to remove our shoes before crossing the threshold. As I surveyed the unwashed floor, I wondered “Why?” Aloud. I reckon my socks were a damn sight dirtier when I departed than when I entered.

 

This coming Saturday

Some time ago, I concluded that we are engaged in a ritual that is in equal parts deflating, dispiriting, and just flat out soul-destroying. We’ve been outbid at auctions, been so close but yet so far. But the time and effort we have now invested is too great for us to just throw up our hands and say, “we have had enough”. We continue to travel on this eternal hamster wheel, because that is what parents do. Don’t they?