The house hunting still isn’t going well. We went to stay with Mum for a few days the last few days (I’m typing this on the train on the way home) and yesterday we drove to Leicester for the day, with the intention of fitting as many house viewings in as we could. It did not go well.
We were just getting into Leicester when Michiel had a phone call from the agents handling the house we were meant to be seeing at 10am. It was 9.10am. They apologised and said that an application had come into the agency for that house that morning so they were no longer taking any viewings for it, but there was another property in the same road that they would like to show us round. We agreed on the basis that we were there, so we might as well, and it might be a nice house (we were actually extremely cross because the house we were supposed to see was very nice, and the agency knew that we had come all the way from Manchester for this). The agent was late – actually, the original agent was so late the agency sent out a replacement. The house turned out to be a disaster: the decoration was dreadful, although the landlord said generously that we could decorate it how we liked, the rooms small, the yard tiny and unkempt, the kitchen was tiny and there was a huge gap in the back door that would’ve allowed a terrible draught in winter. The general feeling was.. “no way in hell” and we thanked the estate agent and said that we would let her know.
Property no 2 was okay. a quiet street, but opposite a school, the property turned out to be a disappointment, although it was well decorated and kept, the kitchen turned out to be disappointingly tiny (much tinier than it appeared on the photographs), and the set up downstairs meant that the dining room would have been turned into a study-cum-larder-cum-bikeshed-cum-dumping ground – and we wanted a nicer home than that. The agent was late for this too, although he apologised profusely and explained that one of his staff had called in sick: after that he was unfailingly polite and professional. (I’d consider any future properties from that agency, actually, I was so impressed with his demeanour).
The agent for Property no 3 was also late (are we seeing a pattern here?). Again, the property turned out to be tiny and not what we had hoped. The bathroom was dirty and the paint was peeling from the ceiling, the kitchen was tiny. The agent seemed to have difficulty keeping his eyes off my breasts and had the general all round air of “creepazoid” – and it wasn’t just me, Michiel commented on it as well. Not impressed. Parking was difficult as well – we had to park a few streets away.
Property 4 – late again! – was well decorated but again, not what we expected. Most of the property was okay but there was a tiny bathroom and a tiny kitchen, which definitely needed some work, and the garden, while large, had rotten fencing which Jess could’ve gotten out of. It was also on a main road and backed by what looked like rough council houses. Nothankyouverymuch. We thanked the agent and left again.
Property 5 – which was the one we liked the best, before viewing any of them. It had a river running down one side of the property and we jokingly called it “the moat house”. We arrived to find some people already in the property, viewing as well as us, which we were rather annoyed about. We questioned the agent about if we put in an application for the property, would it be kept for us, they wouldn’t allow someone else to gazump us? the answer was no. So we had a look around. The house definitely needed some work but it was the best we’d seen – the kitchen wasn’t ideal but it had a large covered veranda with a large secure garden, a huge garage, a lovely joint sitting room/dining room, with three bedrooms.. it was just what we wanted. not perfect, but it had to scope to be somewhere we loved a lot. We immediately drove to their offices in the centre of leicester and put in an application. We couldn’t move in till 16th, and the agent warned us that the landlord wanted someone for the 9th, so he said, well, put your application in. i’ll call the landlord, see what he says. if he says no to 16th, I’ll call you and you can change it to 9th, and go with that. we agreed and gave him the application fee (£250!) and left the office. Within 10 minutes we had a call from him saying that he couldn’t reach the landlord because he was away working, but he would call him first thing in the morning, and call us then, but he was going to recommend that the landlord accept our application. We agreed, and headed off to the last viewing.
Property 6, which we decided to view anyway in case something fell through on Property 5, the agent never showed up for. Fortunately the existing tenant was home, a young woman with a child, and while she didn’t know anything about the viewing she welcomed us in and showed us around. A semi-detached house, with a through sitting/dining room and the tiniest kitchen i have ever seen, it was nicely decorated with a small triangular garden and a small garage. not ideal, but definitely no 2 on the list. We thanked her and thankfully hit the road to go home because it had been a long day – we’d gotten up at 5.30am and by this time it was 6pm.
We felt full of hope that night. We were going to get out of the flat we hated, our heads were a-whirl with plans for the new house, what we would have to get done in the next two to three weeks in terms of closing up the flat, preparing to move and so on.
That all came crashing down this morning. The phone rang as we were sitting down to have some coffee at about 10am. It was the agent. He was most apologetic but another couple had put in an application that morning and since our application had not been formally accepted by the landlord, the agent had to hand him the other couple’s application as well as ours, and the other couple got the property, not us.
We were very very very angry, needless to say. it seemed to be one rule for other people, and one rule for us. A dream had been ripped away, but more than that. This is a time when I should be preparing to go to university, looking forward to an exciting period of my life, and instead i’m beset with worries about where we’re going to live, worries about actually getting to Leicester in time for the commencement of the University term, and unpacking, getting things sorted out before the chaos of fresher’s week. I begin to see why the vast majority of first year students go straight into halls – it saves the stress of learning a new city at the same time as learning one’s way around the university. I sat down this morning after the phone call to try to find some more properties, and I just felt so disillusioned with the whole process. I felt like I could not trust any of the agencies and had the general attitude of “well.. why bother?”, an extremely black mood. Fortunately I managed to lift myself out of it – helped by Mum taking us out to lunch at a local pub with very very nice food, and then up to Clee Hill, which I’ve been up before but which has some stunning views.
And now.. we’re on the way home. Uni starts 5 weeks on Monday. We have 5 weeks left to find somewhere to live and move there. Mum has agreed to go back to Leicester next Tuesday to view more properties (since she can get over there more easily than we can) and we are going to have to trust her judgement, although she will take photos, and we’ll go on those. we just have to keep bashing away and hope that somewhere out there is the right house for us that the landlord will let us have. But certainly, I am disappointed. And angry. And I don’t think I’m unjustified in feeling that way.
[and now I’m home, and posting this. I’m allowing myself to chew on the anger, to be upset, but tomorrow: tomorrow is a new day and we WILL get past this. I’ve worked too hard to be defeated by a bunch of rude estate agents….]