Category: Property

I was standing outside number 42 last Tuesday, watching a delivery van try to squeeze past a silver Audi on a stretch of tarmac no wider than a garden path, when it hit me. Most estate agents will spend your entire afternoon talking about “characterful access” or “convenient shared parking,” but they won’t tell you […]

I remember sitting in a drafty kitchen in a mid-1970s detached bungalow near Salisbury, clutching a lukewarm mug of tea and listening to a young couple cry because the house they’d spent six months saving for had vanished. They’d had their offer accepted, the solicitors were already shuffling the paperwork, and then—out of nowhere—the seller […]

I was walking past Miller’s Cottage last Tuesday—a fine example of mid-Victorian craftsmanship, built around 1865 if my memory serves—when I saw a young couple standing on the pavement, staring wistfully at the new estate over on Blackwood Lane. They were caught in that classic tug-of-war: new build vs period property. One side offers the […]

I remember standing in a drafty hallway in a mid-Victorian semi near Andover back in ’94, watching a lad in a crisp, brand-new suit walk through a property without so much as a torch. He spent ten minutes looking at the kitchen tiles and then handed over a report that missed a blatant subsidence crack […]

I remember standing in a drafty Victorian terrace over in Salisbury last autumn, watching a young couple shiver in their own living room despite the radiator being cranked to full blast. They were staring at a piece of paper, completely baffled by the technical jargon, trying to figure out what is an epc rating and […]

I remember standing in a draughty village hall back in ’94, watching a man lose his shirt because he thought a shiny brochure meant a sound structure. He’d been blinded by the idea of a bargain, completely ignoring the fact that the damp in the corner of the drawing room was older than his marriage. […]

I remember standing in a draughty hallway in a mid-Victorian terrace near Salisbury, watching a young couple stare in horror at a crumbling lintel. They had just bought the place, only to realise that what does grade 2 listed mean wasn’t just a bit of trivia for the local history society; it was a legal […]

I remember sitting in a draughty kitchen over in Chawton back in ’98, listening to a young man in a sharp suit tell a widow her cottage was worth twenty percent more than it actually was, simply because a new development had broken ground down the lane. He looked at his spreadsheets, but he didn’t […]

I remember standing in a drafty old threshing barn near Sevenhampton back in ’94, watching a young couple marvel at the “characterful” exposed beams while I was busy noting the massive damp patch creeping up the north elevation. They saw a dream; I saw a structural nightmare that would cost them a small fortune in […]

I was standing by the old stone bridge near the bottom of High Street last Tuesday—the one built in 1842, mind you—watching a surveyor from the council squinting at a map of the meadow behind the pub. It’s a scene I’ve seen a dozen times over the years, usually followed by someone asking me, with […]