Yep. Details? Hmmm… OK…
Viewed a flat. Loved it. Registered a note of interest with the estate agent (and followed this up by choosing a solicitor, pronto, and getting them to reiterate our interest). Arranged a second viewing. Got notified of a closing date for offers. Deliberated and agonised. Made an offer. A hefty offer as high as we could justify cos we defo defo wanted it: it was listed at offers over £189k, home report survey valuation of £200k (all “1s” on the survey, except for the obligatory “2” for the close), offered 227.5k by the high noon deadline. Had to wait until the next morning until hearing that we’d had our offer accepted. FUCK YEAH! BUT ALSO: OH SHIT, we need to sort out the selling of our flat. Bunged 75% of our possessions into storage within a week, did some essential tarting/tidying up, made our best stab at rocking the show flat/minimal vibe. Invited four estate agents round for a chat. Hated the first guy, was fine with the second woman (who was the agent for the place we were buying), enlisted her and cancelled the meetings with other two estate agents. Had the photos took and the home buyers survey done. The listing for ours went online on the Wednesday evening two weeks after our offer on the other place was accepted. Had half a dozen or so viewings lined up for the weekend. Got an offer that was decent on the Monday (£130k - on a £125k survey and offers over £120k - a smidge over the £127k we paid for our flat eleven years ago at the peak of the market just before the übercrash - the resultant circa £50k equity basically funded the 10% mortgage deposit on the new place, the cash required to go over the survey price/mortgage ceiling, stamp duty, and solicitors fees, etc. Tidy.). Didn’t bother setting a closing date and accepted that first offer on the Tuesday. Cancelled the viewings upcoming - you snooze, you lose. Chilled on Wednesday. Did a bunch of stuff the solicitor guided us through throughout the next four weeks or so (including us beasting the solicitor during the last week on a daily basis because Spidey senses were telling me a bunch of stuff should’ve before wrapped up before the final week - things went down to the wire, but it all came together on time, which it might not have had I not pushed for shit to be closed out). The tentative sequence of events on moving day was surreal (get out, hand over old keys, be temporarily rich but homeless, get new keys, unpack shit you packed yesterday, have chips and fizz surrounded by boxageddon).
Scotland: It seems that, in the not too distant past, after the angst of the sealed bids part is over, having an offer accepted was a fairly nailed on sign of a purchase being in the bag, subject to a few formalities. But recently, new legal shiz has crept in that has meant that those formalities have been stretched out and subject to more uncertainty , meaning that the deal is rarely fully done until close to the moving date. Whatever. Rather that than the nonsense that seems to play out dahn south.
Pro tip: triple check everything with everyone as if they (and you) know fuck all. Get them to rust what they’ve just said. It’s the only way.
Other pro tip: if you’re moving more than a car’s worth of stuff, unless you can enlist a free van and an army of bros, getting a removal crew in to do the lifting and shifting is defo the thing to do.
Mortgage: was with Yorkshire Building Society. Stayed with them. Meant we could take advantage of porting, which avoided the early retirement charge. Also, their Offset arrangement has worked very well for us. Might have been a tad cheaper elsewhere, but YBS were fucking beautiful to deal with (main arrangements from AIP to confirmation all done in two face-to-face meetings, so stuff could be thrashed out in confidence), and they aren’t a bank. Would recommend YBS all day long. Fuck pissing about trying to arrange something this stressful and complicated over the phone or via email. Old school.
Quirk: the solicitor we’d originally chosen (to made the note of interest) sacked us off before we made our offer because the seller has jumped in and appointed them as his solicitor, which created a conflict of interest. So we went elsewhere. Which was kind of a blessing in disguise, cos the solicitor company we ended up with were robotically efficient. PM me for their deets if you want them.
Broadband: Fuck Virgin Media. They let the lad who was moving in to our old place set up his account days before he’d even been confirmed as the owner or moved in, which froze our existing account, and before we’d even moved out (and notified them within 24 hrs), they’d sold our outstanding balance to a debt collector company who have been bombarding us with letters. Pricks. Also fuck EE, who registered our order for broadband at the new address and did fuck all for a fortnight. When questioned, they said they’d need to start all over again and it’d be at least another two weeks until we got connected. Fuck that. One call to John Lewis Broadband had us connected with a new line before the day was out, and a new router delivered within 48 hours.
Anything else? This has been very therapeutic. Thanks for reading. Good night.
