No news is... no news

There's nothing doing.

No new properties that float my boat.

No new money that expands my options.

No new ban on charging more than £200,000 for a 2-bed house.

No nothing.

London house prices rise faster than ever?

Eh? That's what it says in the local rag.

Who's buying these houses - Tristan Farquahr Watshis Double-barrel surname face?

If everyone digs their heels in and doesn't buy until prices come down, we might get somewhere.

I might get somewhere. In south London. With 3 bedrooms. Off-road parking. And an upstairs bathroom.

Thankyouplease.

UK hit by mortgage approval slowdown

No sh!t

It's hardly surprising given the paucity of reasonable mortgages on offer.

I can get about three, all with interest rates of over 4% above the base rate.

Oooo. Oooo. Where do I sign?

Clock's Ticking...

As March moves into April, the clock's go forward and winter thinks about letting spring get a look in, the reality is I haven't got anywhere.

Haven't arranged a viewing for weeks. Because I haven't seen a property worth viewing for weeks.

I have failed to win the lottery, except for a tenner a few weeks back, so my budget remains annoyingly limited.

Gonna have to pull my finger out in April and see what happens. Finger's crossed I see something I like. (Note to self: fingers can only be crossed after finger has been pulled out.)

New Enthusiasm Short-Lived

It didn't last.

I got interested in house hunting again for 48 hours, but now I'm taking it for granted that I won't be paying stamp duty.

I have an extra 2 grand to play with. But I won't be juggling it in the air, or slotting it into my Wii. And unfortunately it doesn't mean I can expand my search to cover 5 bedroom, detatched premises with a double garage and more en suite bathrooms than bedrooms.

Yep, saving two grand hasn't made me feel too grand.

Kindly Reminders

The day after the morning before.

And just in case I hadn't heard, many an estate agent was quick to inform me that the axe had fallen on stamp duty and beheaded the nasty little tax just below the Adam's Apple.

I didn't reply and tell them, yes I knew that, mainly because they were those kind of emails that they tell you not to reply to as the inbox isn't monitored.

Stamp Duty Stamped Out

Wahey!

Great news in the UK budget today.

The pointless, ancient tax of 1% on the price of a house has been abolished for properties under £250,000.

That's gonna save me a couple of grand when I do buy, so I treated myself to an extra spoonful of ice cream tonight.

Still got to find a house, but a tax that had nothing to do with stamps, and had no sense of duty is no more a thorn in my house hunting side.

Eyebrows Raised Slightly

A more positive start to the week, this one.

A couple of properties have interested me enough to get my eyebrows to move north and add a few crinkles to my already furrowed brow.

One a flat. Top floor with a ma-hooosive balcony.

The other, a regular terraced house, or 'period cottage' as they seem to be called.

Now, to me, a cottage is detached, with an expansive front and rear garden, surrounded by a quaint, white picket fence and chirping birds in a tree. Whatever the period.

This had none of those features. It was just cottage-sized.

Small then.

House Envy

There's nothing like a trip into the country on a train to make you green with jealousy at some of the houses people live in.

You can glimpse the back gardens of the mansions with two conservatories.

Stare in awe at the huge houses with a 200ft long gardens, and a canal at the end of it for good measure.

Sure there's a few hell holes along the way, with windows and balconies that look over the trainline.

But we can't all live in stately homes.

Estate Agents III - Part II

Got a call from one today.

Sunday afternoon.

Hardly prime house-hunting time.

But at least they haven't forgotten about me.

Bless.

Estate Agents III

Are they all on holiday?

Have I frightened them off?

I haven't received a single call (or answerphone message) all week.

Maybe they've got fed up with me not returning their calls (though I have returned many).

Maybe there's no decent new properties to flog.

Maybe they're as bored as I am of this house-hunting malarkey.

Retirement Apartments

Now, most of these look very nice, I must say.

Often new, purpose-built flats.

And most seem reasonably priced, certainly a lot cheaper than other flats.

And you get a manager who you can call if you get stuck on the toilet or something.

All I have to do is wait 20-odd years then. By then I should have saved enough to buy one out-right.

Steady trickle

Rather like an unnecessary urination, I'm receiving a steady, if uninteresting flow of properties to consider via the various websites I've signed up to.

And rather like a urination that lasts too long, I'm getting fed up of being offered maisonettes and small houses that have been converted into two flats. But sadly I can't delete them from my search preferences as I may miss out on a decent purpose-built flat.

I realise none of the above bear any resemblance to urination. I'm just getting p!ssed off with the moribund properties that are available within my price range. That's all.

Maybe I'll be in a more positive mood tomorrow.

Wee live in hope.

Haven't Got Anywhere

Over a month into the house hunt and I'm no nearer finding anywhere.

I haven't even really come close to putting in an offer for anywhere.

Because I haven't been blown away by anywhere.

So there.

Banks A Million

I'd just like to thank my bank for doing what they said they'd do and phone me up to see how my house hunting was getting on.

Oh, wait a minute. They haven't phoned.

Nor have they improved their poor range of mortgages on offer to anyone with less than a 20% deposit.

They have, however, kept the interest rates on most their savings accounts as nought point something very small per cent.

Thanks a million.

Vacant Possession Obsession

I can't drive down a street now without looking out for estate agents' boards.

Boards saying For Sale. To Let. Sold. Under Offer. Vacant Possession. It doesn't matter. I'll have a look.

Boards in areas I can afford, don't like, can't afford or would never dream of living.

Boards from estate agents I've been in touch with, never heard of, or studiously avoided.

I think it all means I'm getting board of househunting.

Auctions

Here's a thing.

My normal saved preferences on the website have thrown up a house that's up for auction. 6 reception rooms, 5 bedrooms and 5 bathrooms.

Now, I'm an optimistic kind of guy, but for me to land a property like that on my budget, no one else can turn up for the auction, or if I start the bidding, everyone else needs to lose their tongue and both their hands.

Going? Going? Actually, I won't be going to this auction.

Non-movers move

Ah.

Seems some of the non-movers I thought would be still hanging around in the summer have been sold.

Well, I'd like to blame an unpredictable market, the relative strength of the pound, the Suez canal crisis of the 50s and the guy who cuts my dogs' hair.

Proves how little I know about houses, and even worse, proves there's people out there prepared to pay over the odds for some bricks and mortar (with a fair bit of glass and wood thrown in for windows and floors).

Old Houses

How ridiculous are some of these?

No en suite bathrooms (and sometimes no bathroom unless you go outside).

Crooked walls. Kitchens that are miles from the living room. Tiny windows.

And perhaps strangest of all, bedrooms that you can actually fit a double bed in.

Crazy.

Only 10% in London can afford first home.

So says the local evening newspaper*.

Not enough new houses are being built. (Those that are have tiny rooms in my experience).

Deposits now cost over 60% of the average annual salary. Was less than a third that a few years back.

Sobering figures. Not that I've been drinking. Can't afford it.

*SOURCE: Evening Standard

Leasehold or Freehold?

It's not enough that you have to look at which area a property is in, how old it is, how many bedrooms it has, is there a garden, is there off-road parking, are developers planning to bulldoze the block and build a swimming pool?

Oh no, just to add to the confusion, you have to see whether it's offered as freehold or leasehold.

What's the deal with the latter?

I can understand it with flats, where several people occupy dwellings on the same piece of land. But all houses should be freehold. If I buy a house on a piece of land, I should own the land to the core of the Earth, and not pay some faceless third party.

And why go charging me extra for freehold? Or varying the length of freehold from 99 to 999 years? It's my land until I decide to sell the house that's built on it, and when I sell, even if I'm 1,001 years old, I'll sell the land too. Simple.

But of course the words 'simple' and 'buying a house' are strangers to each other.

For Sale? Or not For Sale?

That is the question on many a home owner's mind I expect.

It's this not knowing the best time to take the plunge and put your house on the market that's causing a dearth of good new properties for first timers like me to choose from.

These are indeed shaky times. One week prices on the up. The next on the down.

If I'm ever to own a pile of bricks on a piece of land in a town, city, or perchance hamlet on this mortal coil, we need to get some stability from somewhere.

Alack, poor Yorick, I know not from whence that will come.

Non-movers

Like an obstinate turd that you need to beat with a brush before it'll vacate your toilet, there are some properties that have been on my saved properties list online since I started searching a couple of months ago.

The owners can't shift them, and no one wants to buy them simply because they don't represent good value for money.

I have no intention of viewing any of them until the vendors see sense and reduce the asking price.

And in each case, that needs to come down by at least fifteen grand.

Otherwise these homes (none of which have a turd bedroom by the way) will be hanging around like bad smells, well into the summer.

The Little Tempter

Got emailed another of these today.

A property that's a few grand over the top end of my budget, but clearly better than anything within my budget.

I have rummaged down the back of the sofa. Checked every trouser pocket. I even opted for a sandwich from a Sainos instead of Pret.

But to no avail. I still can't save enough to afford it.

The little tempter remains a big no-no.

Multi-media

Not content with offering me properties via websites, emails, phone calls, carrier pigeons and smoke signals, today I received one of those old-fashioned letters through my letter box from an estate agent.

Therein, a short covering letter and a colour print out of a house they were confident I'd be interested in.

A flagrant waste of printer ink and postage. Why open this new front? Why mount this pincer attack?

Do they think seeing a print out will sway my decision?

Alack, it did not.

Sleeping On It

There's nothing like a visit to the land of nod to focus the mind and come to a decision about a house you like.

Last night, having viewed a decent house with a couple of half-decent pints of lager inside me, I may well have taken the plunge.

I was close to putting in an offer on a house that's teetering on the precipice of my affordability cliff, if you can imagine such a thing.

In the mild light of a spring morning, things have a different slant. It's too expensive. I'd rather pay for more space than all the luxurious features and fittings that were pushing up the asking price of the pad in question.

So the search goes on in my waking hours. While the decision-making continues to happen in my sleep.

Builders' Arms

Oh, to be a builder in this housing game.

To be able to take the bare bones of a house and re-skin it. Spruce up its vital organs.

Adding thousands to its value and making it look a masterpiece.

I can't even put up a shelf.

That's why I need a house that's had the skill and attention of a builder's arms.

Viewed one tonight. Top end of my budget. But top quality.

I repaired to a pub (not called The Builders Arms, sadly) to deliberate.

Hmmmm.

Estate Agents II

'It's a lovely house,' he said. 'But where is it?' I said.

'It's got an upstairs bathroom,' he said. 'Where's the location?' I said.

'And a fantastic kitchen/diner,' he said. 'That's nice,' I said. 'And where is it?'

'In one of the locations you specifically said you didn't want to live' he didn't say.

But I knew.