The
door closed behind me, blocking out the light. I followed the man
down the hallway. He wore a woollen pea coat despite the heat. His
pointed leather shoes stuck out far in front of his narrow ankles and
the effect was magnified by the tightness of his trousers. There was
a strong smell of fried. It was hard to see properly in the gloom but
the walls were streaked with…something. Paint had flaked onto the
floor and it crackled underfoot. I felt my heart rate quicken as the
rank odour closed around me. We reached a narrow staircase and the
man began to climb. He hauled his bad leg up behind him one step at a
time before pausing at the top. He unbuttoned his coat and reached
inside it for a key. I stood below him, uncertain if I wanted to go
on. The man turned to me, his eyes glinting through the murk. He
smiled at my nervousness and beckoned with a curled finger.
“Follow
me, Mr Davy. Welcome to the property.”
Obsessed
I
have been flat hunting in London, where dodgy houses and Dickensian
cast-offs abound. I have become addicted to Rightmove.co.uk, the
property search website. As soon as I wake up, I check my phone for
the latest alerts. If there is anything that looks nice, I make a
note to call the agent that day. It’s bound to be gone tomorrow.
Just before bed, I check the alerts again and I go to sleep dreaming
of duplex maisonettes.
Demand
outstrips supply
If
it weren't for the loss of my mother and the sale of her house, I
would be in no position to buy a flat. I work for a charity and a
mortgage of five times what I earn wouldn’t buy me a beach hut in
Brighton. The average house price in London is nearly half a million
pounds, almost double the national average. The prices in London are
being driven up by a fall in the number of properties on the market
and demand far outstrips supply. The result is a feeding frenzy and a
‘vendors’ market’; unpleasant for a first time buyer about to
make the biggest financial decision of his life. Imagine the
properties on the market as a sardine ‘bait ball’, so stunningly
captured on Blue Planet. The stock is ever dwindling while the
ravenous tunas (buyers) swoop viciously on what remains.
In
this environment, estate agents have to do very little; they post a
few pictures online and, if the place looks half decent, wait for the
queues to form. They watch while the desperate buyers fight it out
bare knuckle in a bidding war. Then they step over the bloody corpses
and collect their commission from the last man standing.
Don't
believe the hype
Aside
from images (artfully shot on a wide angle lens and photo-shopped to
make a tip look like a temple) the written description is another
weapon in the agents’ arsenal. They are crafted in a style that is,
thankfully, unique to the property market. I have been bamboozled
into viewing more than a few flats by adverts that read something
like this…
This
property really is something particularly special. It boasts an
endless wealth of magnificent south-facing period features. A
gratuitous plethora of sumptuous high ceilings leads out onto a shady
double-fronted bathroom. The private kitchen enjoys stunning cupboard
space with potential for food storage, subject to planning
permission. A striking, tree-lined hallway leads through to the
prestigious open plan, split-level living space. Constructed entirely
from lies, this modern-Victorian bungalow will quickly collapse
around you, exposing an abundance of natural light.
I
have learnt not to trust the blurbs. They are like the weather
forecast; even though it is normally wrong, you can't help but check.
You want to believe it but the only way to know what you're dealing
with is to see it for yourself.
Under
pressure
In
this frenzied market a nice flat will sell on the first day. Four of
five offers at asking price or above are made after one viewing.
There are ‘cash buyers’ (no mortgage) waiting to swoop and you
have no time to mull it over or go back for second look. You have to
make a huge decision based on a ten-minute inspection. And when one
spends more time observing the estate agent’s limp than looking at
the flat, that is not enough.
Taking
a break
Since
I started looking I have made offers on four flats. On all four I
went to the top end of my budget and on all four I was blown out of
the water by Russian oligarchs with suitcases full of cash. For the
time being, I've decided to step back from the madness. I will
inoculate myself against Flat Fever and remain aloof. I am going on
holiday in two weeks, far from the reach of Rightmove property
alerts.
But,
there’s no harm in looking in the window of a French estate agent.
Is
there?…
“Suivez-moi,
Monsieur Davy. Bienvenue à la propriété.”
