I know we all give out about it, but honestly the best part of trying to buy a house is the search. Yes it seems like hassle, all those Saturday mornings eaten up by tours of mouldy homes with 1970s decor and handrails in every room.
You get the impression that the undertaker has barely shut the front door, before homehunters come trampling through it. Sure, it gets tedious — seen one uninsulated semi without planning permission, seen them all — never mind adding up how much you spend on petrol over months of driving to houses that leap out of your price range before you’ve even parked the car, but at least at the viewing stage there’s still hope.
Could this be the weekend you find your dream home? Will it be the morning when you know you have found The One. It no longer matters how many weeks, months or years you spent being misled and stood up; all that matters now is this house. You’re ready to commit. You don’t care what else is out there.
Everything after the searching stage is crushing, unless you’re lucky enough to get the keys. I’ve reached various stages — bidding, best offers, closing — but always end up being trumped by someone with deeper pockets. I don’t get my hopes up any more. The first house or two devastates you, and I like to bolster friends who are joining the house-hunt bottleneck by telling them that this is only the beginning. Still, I do take part.
I wrote a couple of weeks ago about a house I liked in Inchicore/Kilmainham (exact address depends on whether I’m buying/living there). When we went to view it, bidding had yet to reach the asking price of €300,000.
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When I phoned the estate agent two weeks later it had gone €40,000 over. The agent told me that it wasn’t done yet. There were still plenty of bidders and more viewings had been scheduled.
They said they would probably ask everyone for their best offer to get the thing wrapped up. Oh, joy. I reckon that house will go for €375,000. It was a nicely decorated, but small, two-bedroom terrace in what is now definitely Inchicore.
I have two friends who have just gone sale agreed. They begin every sentence directed towards me with, “we know we’re very lucky . . .” It’s fine, they can relax. A colleague has just started trying to buy, and is still in the “But it looked so much better in the photos” stage. I’ll just stick with her, instead.
@eithneshortall