At long bloody last!

Part Seven (Whoop whoop!!!)

It’s happened. It’s really mine. All mine (ok, so the deeds may take a while to turn up, but…).

The issue with the right of way slowed things down a touch, but I had a completion date from my solicitor, and I dutifully organised my finances to accommodate this. It sounds easier than it was….. So I phoned my (Irish) bank and asked how I go about transferring funds from a 30 day notice account (I want to buy a house and….) Apparently they need it in writing, so I write…. Bearing in mind I’m pretty damn close to my 30 days already…. Then I get an official form in the post, so I fill out the official form. The numbers have changed a bit, but nowt huge. I send the form back. Being a touch paranoid I follow it up with a phone call to the bank to ensure that everything is in place. This is after the discussion about when I intend to turn up and collect the bank draft (I don’t, I will be in a different country, I’m just giving you notice to withdraw, details to follow)…. When I speak to the nice (once the sums involved are made clear) lady in the bank, it transpires that Thursday is a good day to make a transfer as the right lady is in residence, but Wednesday isn’t as she’s away, my solicitor’s bank is a little awkward so he would like the transfer on Wednesday… Cue utter havoc and panic… Eventually I received a call from the nice lady to say that it was all sorted, the protocol had been given to her by head office and money had been transferred. Not that I was in any way untrusting… but I checked my account. Sure enough the money had been transferred. Twice. One sum to my solicitor, and the same again into my current account. Now it really didn’t seem sensible to have enough money to buy a house with hanging around in my current account, so I phoned the nice lady. After we had sorted out the confusion where no one knew where anything was supposed to be, she was most apologetic, but I had to instruct the transfer back to the deposit account in writing. Again. Grrrrrrr!

It only took a week from the stated completion date to the actual completion. I couldn’t get an answer from any bugger! Did I own a house or didn’t I? Had all that money just evaporated? Has every solicitor in Ireland chosen the same week for their holidays????? My solicitor had already advised me to take possession as soon as possible after completion, so that no one got the urge to drop in and strip the fixtures and fittings from the property while it was vacant. The trouble with booking a ferry is that it helps if you know what date you wish to travel.

Eventually I got confirmation that it’s mine, so I booked the ferry. I’d had one of those 50% off email offers, so off I went. Funnily enough, by the time I’d finished booking it, it seemed like I was just paying the standard price. Not sure how that happened. When I asked himself to check it out (on account of being a proud but distracted Grandma I couldn’t do it myself) the price was about £99 out and £120 back, by the time I paid it came to the usual £250…..

I reckon those £69 each way fares are a figment of someone’s imagination!

Now the house was sold as furnished, as previously mentioned, but I wasn’t sure whether there would be anything like plates and cutlery and so on, and there was the bedding, quite a lot of it. And the turbo charged mobility scooter (that was BIG). By the time I had stuffed the back of my little van, the rear axle was nearly sat on the ground… but there’s always room for one more thing…. Luckily it was the dog.

The shipping forecast for the night we were due to sail was atrocious, Gale 8 possibly 9, rough seas. The fast ferry had already been cancelled. When we pulled up at the ferry port it seemed perversely calm, although the illuminated signs were warning of terrible weather. The last time we sailed in terrible weather, the furniture on the boat was flung from one side to the other, cupboard doors were flying open as we slammed into each successive wave. I had spent the whole journey worrying about the dog and trying to work out a way to sneak down to the car and rescue her. This time I was prepared. I have a special doggie bag which is cunningly disguised to look like a normal bag, but is actually a zip up dog bed. She doesn’t usually mind it, but I took the precaution of throwing a blanket over her head to ensure total concealment. I thought I had achieved this until I saw my reflection in one of the many restaurant mirrors…. With a little canine head poking out and sniffing the sausages. I tried to doze on the crossing, but every time I did, she made a bid for freedom. I wouldn’t have got much rest anyway, as we shared our otherwise deserted lounge with a gaggle of screeching scousers (on previous trips we had the obese, smelly Romanian who snored and an assortment of obnoxiously hyperactive children with comatose parents). The crossing itself went with barely a lurch. I could have left the beastie in the car!

On arrival in Dublin we fuelled up on a (rather expensive) fry up before the solicitors appointment. That man certainly can talk, but so can I, and when provoked, so can himself. The upshot was that we were running a little late for the next leg. I got screeched at a few times for drifting off on the motorway, but we got to the next stop safely in the end. I wanted to show himself the nearest major city (only a small matter of 80 miles) from the house, so I had asked my cousin, who happens to have a house there, if we could stop over. She was away, so the arrangements were a little complicated, but we got there in the end. Himself got the whistle stop I’m-only-functioning-because-of the-caffeine tour of the city. The glorious covered market was a bit wasted on us, as they mainly sell food and I didn’t yet know if there was going to be any electricity when we got there. By 4.30 the weather had closed in and we were getting soggy, so we stopped at a pub…or two. At least Himself found something to approve of there!

I had left the van on a hill that many roller coaster designers might regard as a bit extreme, and had forgotten to leave it in gear, but after a couple of pints I concluded it would probably just park itself quietly in the nearest wall, so no point in stressing.

We got the €10 deal from the local Chinese and sat on a bench in the rain to eat it. It was quite romantic (but only because I knew I had a warm dry bed to look forward to). We had planned another excursion into the city the following morning, but we watched the weather rolling down the valley and changed out minds as the magnificent view became rapidly obscured by weather. Himself has yet to come to terms with my ad hoc (Irish) approach to planning…..

We stopped on the outskirts of the city to feed up and do a bit of grocery shopping (for ‘grocery’ read ‘drink’). When we got back to the van, the dog was perched on the top of the seat back, which frankly was about the only remaining space. Nonetheless, we bunged the shopping into every crevice. The next stop was a hardware store in a market town en route, I decided paraffin lamps may be required, Himself just wandered around, happy as a pig in shit, looking at tools and machinery (improbably placed next to lampshades and artificial flowers). I got him some wellies. Next stop the estate agent for the keys!

We left the by now rather pissed off dog in the car and went to fetch the keys. I was once again studiously ignored by the lady on the desk, as something as inconvenient as a (rather scruffy) client was not to be tolerated. She pointedly continued her conversation with her desiccated colleague for several minutes. Eventually we were granted audience. Luckily it transpired that there was electricity, as well as a whole box full of keys. I was oddly chuffed that one set came in a natty little holder. It must have been the exhaustion.

The only thing I remember about arriving at the house was that I experienced wheel spin at the gate and Himself explained to me what I was doing wrong (amazingly, he’s still alive!).

The trouble with engineers (well, my engineer) is that they don’t wax lyrical about the magnificent views, or the wildlife, or the utter quiet. No. They investigate the plumbing and the wiring and go around with a tape measure making lists! Now I would be the first to admit that this is an essential part of making things work (assuming you can find the bloody list afterwards!), but I did reach the point where I cringed every time I was summoned to bear witness to a new fault or problem. I have a survey (as yet not paid for) which says that the property is not in imminent danger of collapse. This means that I can take a bit of time to assimilate the quirks and associated issues with the property. Well, that’s what I thought anyway…..

On investigating the garden (which is mainly field) I discovered a number of turds, possibly originating from a large dog. Feeling a bit irritated with whichever distant neighbour was responsible, I followed them and discovered a track running up behind the house. I was properly pissed off now, some bugger was crossing my garden and walking their bloody dog in it! My own dog was oddly uninterested. Usually she is transfixed by the canine bush telegraph and has to be forcibly detached from such dog mines. When I got to the fence it was apparent that no human had been crossing on a regular basis, the track seemed to just stop. A process of deduction and a brief study of my cousin’s ‘turd chart’ (yes, a pictorial guide to ‘spot the turd’) leads me to believe that I have badgers. This is excellent news. I plan to cultivate a wood pile for hedgehogs too J It seems that red deer have started to colonise the area. I have dug out my dad’s telescope so I can get a good look. I just need night vision goggles now.

The lovely Hans had left most of the furniture, so there are beds, mattresses, rugs, tables chairs.. In fact everything you need to move in right now, apart from cooking utensils. That didn’t stop me from developing an interior decoration mania. I had already been promised a table by my best mate (it needs some sanding and varnishing, but otherwise great). This sort of set the tone for the ‘theme’ (is that what they call it?). In this case Regency meets junkshop via Ikea! In my defence, I felt I should make sure I had a good comfortable supportive chair for my mate, as she has mega back problems. I found a nice leather bucket style dining /armchair, but also found Irish prices eyewatering. While hunting for said chair, Himself came upon a number of small occasional tables. As he doesn’t like to have to reach for his beer, he showed an interest. The average price seemed to be €30… closer inspection revealed that it was part of a nest of tables (there is a way of telling), and EACH table was individually priced, so the set came to €90!!! I bloody well gave a set of my mother’s away cause I thought they were horrible, naff and shoddy!

Since I have returned to the UK, I have been trawling junkshops. The dilemma here is that, although I can get stuff a lot cheaper, I then have to pay silly money to get it to Ireland….  and get the trailer back. What I need is a collapsible trailer I can stuff in the van when I’m finished with it.

Now that I’m back in England, I can’t think about anything but getting back to Ireland. I also haven’t shaken my addiction for property browsing online. Do you remember right back at the start of all this, one estate agent (the sane one) mentioned a house which we visited in the dark in lashing rain? The one that never came on the market?  Well it’s on the market now. It looks like it has potential. It also looks like there’s a good year’s worth of work needs doing to it! I wonder when that gable end will fall off…..

 I couldn’t resist vandalising this…. I saw that the estate agents in question have an office in Chelsea, which is the only possible explanation for the absurd price tag.

Property Description:

Standing on a waterfront site of approx. 0.5 acre, If you include the vertical bits, Harbour Cottage offers one of the most spectacular locations in XXXX West Ireland. Large timber decking extending to three levels down to the waterfront so three great opportunities to go A over T as you slip on the green slime, and a small private pier with steps onto the shingle beaches (excuse me, shingle? You mean the very fine sort of shingle that is in fact … mud??) of XXXX Harbour guarantee the utmost enjoyment for the owner, but only while the tide is fully in.

The discerning boating enthusiast will find the public slipway at the north side of the property, which can be used for launching boats from road trailers, just join the queue of all the other Hooray Henrys with oversized powerboats jostling to get launched at high water, .and the public pier just to the South East of the property, which can accommodate ocean-going craft up to 15m in length, otherwise known as working fishing boats, so it helps if you like the smell of dead mackerel invaluable. Smaller motor or sail boats can be moored just in front of the property from where one can access the wonderful coast and islands of West Cork. This is assuming that a) the tide happens at a sensible time and b) you aren’t trapped by a howling Southerly. You may also appreciate the proximity of the local effluent outlet, less than 50m upwind of your house. The good news is, you probably won’t have a problem with moths. There is also a mooring, as part... of the property, for larger craft in the nearby picturesque harbour of XXXXXXXXXX. The annual mooring fee is probably quite a lot of money, but if you are daft enough to consider this property, that may not be a problem…yet. Oh yes, and it’s almost certainly a swing mooring, so you will have to tow your tender about six miles and play the jostling game again, but this time with the kids from the local sailing club added. There’s not much chance of making the tide in your power boat both ways, and you can’t get fuel there anyway.

A timber storage shed provides dry storage for boating and gardening equipment. Sorry, there’s no such thing as dry in this part of the country, just degrees of pervasive damp. The site is fully fenced with a traditional stone wall and teak gates at the entrance and there is also plenty of hedging to guarantee privacy from nosey dwarves. The landscaping is varied with lots of rock formations and a variety of trees, hedges and shrubs (gorse, more gorse, some brambles and a bit of heather)

The house has been built to high standards in traditional Irish cottage style ie. For people who were too poor to afford space, body heat was more important. They had nothing to store anyway and extends to approx. 62 sq m Yes, that’s the whole house, NOT a single room, or maybe the garden shed.. It offers a large (relatively speaking) living room with high ceilings, open beams and an open fireplace, so it will be chilly and damp when the prevailing wind whistles up the harbour  a fully fitted kitchen, so narrow that it’s only suitable for anorexics, who don’t care about cooking anyway separated from the living area by an elm wood counter, a sunroom (now that word has to bean oxymoron under the circumstances), which is used as the dining area, two bedrooms, so long as you don’t expect anywhere to put your clothes, and two bathrooms (which are probably designed like a boat, you sit on the toilet to shower..) All rooms offer spectacular and uninterrupted views to the water and surrounding countryside (rocks and mud).

The property has plenty of opportunities for further development and extension if one so desires (subject to planning permission, which you haven’t a prayer of getting).

Located just a short stroll from XXXXXX village, the property is close to all the amenities of this pretty village. Well, there are lots of pubs, and the chipshop is sometimes open. Beware of the vegetable shop though, the proprietor has probably pissed on the produce. This area of XXXXXXXXXXX Ireland is of outstanding beauty with its dramatic coastline, unspoilt locations and safe beaches, e.g. XXXXXXXXXX. (well, it’s safe at one end, but watch out for the rip tide at the other)

Features:

    * Waterfront property (with overview of sewerage outlet)

    * Private pier

    * Direct access to beaches from property (beach may be a bit of an overstatement, read muddy inlet)

    * Public slipway and large public pier for seagoing vessels nearby (no peace in the season)

    * Mooring as part of the property in XXXXXX (so thronged as to be inaccessible between June and September)

Facilities:

    * Parking, (well at least that’s accurate!)