Aug. 3rd, 2014 09:45 am
armyofsnails: (time snail)
[personal profile] armyofsnails
The most normal life events become so exciting when you are in the midst of them. After almost a year of hard work, many weekends and evenings of house hunting, paperwork filling and exhausting discussions, I have finally bought a house with the people I love and adore. It's wonderful, beautiful and... very expensive. Buying a property in the midst of London's housing bubble has been utter insanity. We have visited around a hundred houses, fought crowds to get into each one of them, bid on fifteen or so places but kept being rejected, have been gazumped twice, and overbid a scary amount of money on the place we finally got, just to make sure we are even considered for it. After all this, to have the place almost feels like a miracle.

It's a large Victorian (1880s) semi-detached house in east London, of brick and timber construction. There is a big garden with a WWII bunker in the middle of it, buried under a thick blanket of grass (I think a family of rabbits might live inside). The house even has a cellar, although it's very badly built, unventilated and full of moisture and mold. The kitchen is enormous. The house is beautiful, but with tatty interior decor and will need a lot of work, some of which is more than cosmetic. To add pique, its previous owner is a charity, and for the past 35 years (since the year of my birth) it has been used as a shelter for women escaping domestic violence. I'm moving in two weeks' time. Couldn't be fucking happier.


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