I give up. Last spring we decided to put our house in London up for sale. Offspring were off to college in the fall so we didn’t need a big house. Cash out, get a smaller flat, travel, enjoy the empty nest etc. Then came Brexit. Even in the lead up to the vote, Viewings were few, certainly non existent after.
Fast forward a year and zero interest in the house even after a price drop so we decide perhaps we should just rent it out until it sells and go travelling. We had already mentally moved out of it anyway so we started sorting and throwing and decluttering and fixing things we would have left for a new owner…put it on the rental market and less than a month later, Teresa May calls a snap election which she very nearly lost, slowing down the real estate market even further. Hemming and hawing about what to do with the house and the pets, we decide to leave it on the market and drag the furry beasts across the ocean to stay in Canada until it’s resolved.
This morning the ex-footballer who owns the house three doors up but has left it empty and abandoned the last 10 years finally starts demolition on the house in preparation to build his new iceberg home. This is likely to take two years meaning we have to reduce the rent by at least 20% to attract a tenant and between the agent fees, storage for our stuff and the mortgage, it’s now no longer worthwhile and probably won’t rent anyway. Which means all that work for nothing, putting all our personal crap in storage and dragging poor kitty halfway around the world when we could have left her in the house with a house-sitter.
I know the London market deserves to crash but couldn’t it wait until I was out? sigh