A Yank Searches for a House in 'Brum - Week 9
Created | Updated Nov 1, 2007
My Irish Husband Tony and I moved to Birmingham in September of 2004. This past year we finally decided it was time to quit paying rent. This is a chronicle of our journey through the world of UK property buying.
What Could Go Wrong?
When you hear the words, 'What could go wrong?', even in your own head, you know you are in trouble.
Our solicitor, Shirley, called us after she got all the paperwork from the seller's solicitor.
She used the word 'minefield.'
To quote her letter to us, one of the law partners 'had expressed concern that there is a possibility that you may experience difficulties in the future with the co-freeholders of the above property, and this could be a potential minefield.'
She included copies of the documents; the parts we could understand made for interesting reading. We still don't know how old the house is, but the first sale was in 1916 and we're not allowed to keep 'on the demised premises or any part thereof any chickens ducks geese or other live poultry.'
We told Shirley to go ahead to the next step. With more information can we find a way to avoid the minefield? She wrote a letter to the seller's solicitors, which included:
'3. Our clients' Surveyors report raised concerns about 'Inadequate maintenance' [Translation : Well worth the £400 for that independent survey]…
'(a) Has your client ever made contact with [the other owner] concerning repairs required at the property? [ Translation: Kathleen and Tony snuck around and contacted the upstairs tenant who said that the other owner wouldn't repair the leaking roof.]
'(b) Is there a Reserve Fund sufficient to cover the cost of the works set out? [Translation : We ain't payin' for no roof.]…
'8. When communicating with [the other owner] could we ask you to please to enquire whether they would consider the sale of their interest in the property? [ Translation: Could we buy this guy out?]…'
My Irish Husband Tony said he thought I would be more upset. But having gone through 50+ years of businesses and relationships, you really believe, 'Nothing is sure until the check clears the bank.'
We're too old and wise to give up easily, but not stupid enough to say, 'We want this one no matter what.'
It's as though we discovered that our dream lover has a dysfunctional family and we will have to live with them. We're still in love, but is Upper Holland worth the excess baggage? Will they rehabilitate? Or just promise to, like they have so many times before?
On the other hand, do we want them to decide where we live?
So, as you do when a relationship may be doomed, I tested the market. I gathered together the Birmingham A to Z, the ads in the Sutton Coldfield Observer, and www.rightmove.co.uk . I came down: Down to one bedroom. Down to £110,000 ('in need of complete refurbishment'). And down as far as the #11 bus route in Erdington. A few good lookin' prospects. Take that Upper Holland Road.
Yesterday, a rainy, grey, English Saturday, I rode the bus across the Sutton border to track down four possibilities in a not-bad part of Erdington. Cute little side streets; nice news agent a block away; handy bus stop to get to the main business district and transfer to the incredibly frequent #11 bus that passes near my office. A couple of towers—Americans would call them 'projects'--a few blocks away.
It was worth a stop in the agent's office. I told my tale of lost love, and she understood. She'd been there. I asked to be introduced to some new suitors. She handed me flyers and promised to call. I stepped back out into the streets of Erdington, home of sleazy chippers and charity shops. But today I didn't feel like trolling for furniture or buying more baskets.
Just how hard would it be to get the #11 bus to work from here? As predicted, one came by in about 5 minutes, and I was on campus about 20 minutes later. As I sat in the cold waiting for the damn #107 back to Sutton, I decided moving to another bus line might not be such a bad idea.
So tonight Tony and I have a date. With Dean Road.
We're packed. We've got an approved mortgage. We're ready to commit.
Maybe Upper Holland will shape up. Maybe the upstairs owner will see the error of his ways. Maybe he can rehabilitate.
But we'll have a Plan B just in case.
Maybe even a Plan C. Or D.
Fingers crossed.
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