Once more unto the packing boxes, my friends…
You may remember from the occasional Sunday Salon that The Physicist and I were trying to become house-owners in 2013, and fundamentally failed to find something we wanted to buy, despite looking at about 20 different properties. One gorgeous and affordable flat – too isolated transport-wise. One acceptably large flat not too isolated – a bit ugly and not somewhere we wanted to bring our friends. One affordable and big enough flat – 15 minutes from any transport options at all.
So, after a very frustrating interview with a mortgage broker who wanted us to take on mortgages bigger than I could imagine, and in which the Physicist shot down his stupid statistics (house prices rising 8% a month? I don’t think so), we gave up on the dream of home-ownership for now and decided to a) move closer to the centre of town so that both of us have less than 45+ minute each-way commutes, and b) adopt a housemate in order to afford to live somewhere nice, as well as central.
Enter housemate in the form of The Rower, and The Dream House, featuring:
– huge kitchen including dishwasher and enormous stove-top
– a bathroom each (that’s 3 in the same house)
– built-in bookshelves galore
– less than 10 minute walk to two different transport links, as well as direct buses to Victoria and Paddington
– secure off-road parking and secure bike storage
– less than 100m from an international-standard cricket venue.
Oh yes, it’s The Dream House. That last is my favourite criterion. I’m thinking of implementing it for all future homes.
We, along with The Rower, moved in a few days ago and while it’s still packing boxes EVERYWHERE, my commute is already so much shorter than I skip along the road with glee.
Wish us luck, folks!