Mt Albert. 3 bed, 2 bath, double garage. 15 min offpeak from the city. Asking price: $629,000.
(Also up there – no price mentioned but at least in a similar range – maybe more. 3 bed, 1 bath, double garage.)
I was going to post links to listings that would be in our hypothetical projected budget for comparison…but it got too depressing.
(Again…points if you can pick the song lyric!)
Sometimes the lack of space at home really gets on my nerves. This is especially true in the kitchen. The sound factor also bugs me; we live below a family, and the floors fail to block out most of their noises.
But you know what? It beats living with flatmates by a sextillion miles. (That is a real number. Look it up.)
I’ve had flatmates who have loud sex, leave food rotting below the sink, throw out your dishes, leave pots festering on the stove, use your body wash, puke over the balcony, don’t pay bills, let their pets run amok, don’t clean the bathroom, and break your stuff.
No thanks; I’m over and done with all that bullshit. Peace and privacy is priceless.
As you guys know, we live in a tiny little basement apartment. It’s nice, new, clean and well located, not to mention cheap for the area ($250) but it’s no mansion. If you were so inclined, you could swing a cat around in our main room, but certainly not in our bathroom or kitchen.
Heck, we don’t even have a lounge. Our TV/computer/desk are all in our big bedroom, although we do have a little covered deck outside with a picnic table.
But you know what? We don’t need one. The only other place we lived in alone – a second floor apartment – had a lounge, which we hardly ever spent time in. It held a two-seater couch, my desk and computer, and a shitload of junk.
The only downside we can’t really entertain at home. For that you kind of need a living room- a dining room, even? I’d really like to host my birthday here, but there just isn’t the space. If it was summer, we could have a barbecue on the deck/backyard and maybe even wander over to the park. Unfortunately, my birthday is smack bang in the middle of July – it pretty much always rains on the day. (One day, I’m going to celebrate a birthday in the northern hemisphere. One day…)
Our old house would have been ideal for a birthday party. Thing is, I ended up being reluctant to have people over there (not to mention the place before that one) – that’s how disgusting our flatmates were and the kind of condition the house was in all the time.
But for now, I love our little pad, and don’t mind the lack of a living room. We don’t often play host – two of our best friends are on the other side of the world and our other friends don’t live in our neighbourhood. And it sure isn’t anywhere near as cramped as this pod!
Have you ever lived in a studio? How’d you find it?
One side of the room
Other side of the room
Wall to wall cupboards - these, plus another two
Bathroom's actually quite big - the other half is all floor space
And our super awkward kitchen
The rooms are pretty small and hard to photograph in one shot, but I tried!
As you can see, the kitchen is absolutely insane – the one thing we were wary about. but otherwise, it’s a neat little place and the timing (and price) were right).
I do miss our dishwasher. Like everything else in the kitchen, the sink is tiny and the counter is really low. There’s no cutlery drawer! And I don’t know where we’ll store our pots and pans, either – maybe time to buy some hooks to hang them on?
But never mind… we’ll just appreciate having our own home one day so much more. One with a bathtub. Dishwasher. Garage. Workshop. Walkin pantry. (None of which this place has, but it is warm, clean, well located, has TONS of wardrobe space with built in drawers, a small covered deck outside and OSP for our little car.) My parents had their house built for them, and although I’d like to do the same, land is pretty darn scarce in Auckland.
So, here we are in our new place. It’s still a bit of a bombsite; I’m only about half unpacked and there’s a lot of rearranging going on. Expect a photo tour coming soon!
I love the fact that my commute has literally been halved. It’s especially awesome on weekends when I work a later shift and am in a rush to get home.
I don’t love the fact that the craziness of our PT system means that I don’t actually save any money by moving closer. If I was still studying, I could get rides for a lot cheaper…but that’s not the case. (I’m tempted to blatantly use my friends to buy me tickets on their student IDs…what do you think?)
The way monthly passes work is by giving a substantial discount on travel, pretty much eliminating any difference between those who live two and three stages away. I may keep buying the same pass I always have – especially if I end up using my days off to catch up with my friends on campus.
Although, I have just found out that by walking a little further on the Mt Eden route – I have three main routes to choose from – I could be paying for just one stage trips. Walking FTW.
I love the fact that we live in a really safe (okay, downright posh) area. A far cry from two neighbourhoods ago. I think it’s safe to say we’ll probably never live anywhere as nice again.
But I don’t love the fact that we are now JUST beyond our comfort zone. We’ve always lived on the central western side of the city. I know my old area like the back of my hand – almost every street, every park, every bus stop. It’s a big shock to the system! We have to find a new butcher and grocer, too :sadface:
If our new house was literally just a few blocks over – more Mt Eden than Epsom – it wouldn’t feel so far away or so alien. Aucklanders are very territorial; what can I say? (And turns out two of my best friends – the two who aren’t currently still at uni – are going overseas. Result: I don’t feel so bad about moving “far away” now!)
I love that the place itself is nice, it’s right next to an awesome park, and close to TONS of restaurants and cafes. We’ll get to indulge our love of food and try lots of new eateries. Unfortunately, we’re still near Burger King and Wendy’s (two of T’s weaknesses).
What do you love/hate about your place?
I won’t lie. I’m a worrywart and an overreactor. So despite a calm facade, I was harbouring fears in the back of my mind that we would end up homeless and living in a tent.
Thankfully, it’s not to be. T and I are moving to Epsom, of all places (one of the most affluent suburbs in the city) to a cute little ground floor apartment at the bottom of a mansion. Yes, the one with the super awkward kitchen I tweeted about.
We don’t have to pay rent for our last week here, so we’re moving at the end of the week (and will probably come back to sort out loose ends/clean at some point). The place we’re moving to is vacant and the landlord wanted someone to move in ASAP, so that worked out rather well.
Things with our new home did NOT get off to a good start, however. I called the LL to tell him we were keen. He didn’t remember us.
Then we got there, and he wanted the bond in cash. I’ve never come across that before – normally you sign the paperwork and arrange to pay the bond plus any advance rent through bank deposit (and get irritating calls from them until the money finally goes through two days later, because they’re always with a different bank entirely).
So off we go to find an ATM. We end up in Newmarket, 10 minutes later, and race to the nearest cash machine. It rejects my card.
Around the corner, we find one of my bank’s ATMs. I jump out of the car, he screeches away and loops around the block while this ATM tells me that my PIN number is wrong. Even though it’s not. Three tries later and I’m locked out of my account. And if that wasn’t already awesome enough, it SWALLOWS MY CARD to boot. Bye bye all hopes of withdrawing cash.
That was Saturday, and I still can’t laugh about it yet.
(ETA: Yes, he did write us a receipt for the money!)
We are officially house hunting. Our lease is up soon, and we definitely want to live on our own.
I really didn’t want to end up going through a property agent, because I didn’t want to pay their ridiculous letting fees – a week’s rent PLUS GST, for crying out loud.
But I figured, if that is what we have to do to secure a nice place, so be it.
Unfortunately, I have been let down. The day before we left for Waiheke, I spoke to one property manager about viewing a house. He never got back to me about arranging a time, despite me leaving both my numbers and email. We got back on Tuesday evening, and I logged on to TradeMe only to see that a viewing time had been added to the listing, and that viewing time was ending RIGHT ABOUT THEN. Literally. Yeah, thanks for nothing.
Then I left a message with another agent for another house. The reply: How would 3.15 on Thursday suit you?
Well, what do you think? How well does 3.15 on Thursday suit ANYONE?
But apparently they only do open homes M-F, 9-4.30. No weekends. WTF.
Yet open homes for houses on SALE are always held on Saturday and Sunday.
Maybe PMs get paid salary rather than commission, and therefore don’t give a crap about actually being helpful to prospective tenants.
I’d welcome being proved wrong, though. Anyone want to step up?
Anyway, I’ve decided to forget about that place. Had the PM done their job and actually provided photos of the important stuff – kitchen and bathroom – I would be able to decide whether we really wanted the place, and whether it would be worth trying to rearrange my schedule to make it to a viewing. But she didn’t. Too bad.
I am now even more determined to find a place with a private landlord.
And while I’m on the topic, it never ceases to amaze me how low the quality of housing – ESPECIALLY for smaller dwellings – is around here. I want a nice one/two bedroom place with insulation, a full kitchen (stove and oven), mixer taps (not , off street parking and preferably without concrete block walls, for up to $300 a week. But that, apparently, is a tall order in Auckland. The market is so ridiculous that people are prepared to live in absolute holes sometimes.
It could only last so long. Once a haven, our house is now a den of what I’ll just call ACK.
The living room hasn’t been vacuumed in as long as I can remember, the hardwood floors haven’t been swept, and is it so hard to put empty toilet rolls in the plastic bin rather than drop them on the floor?
Did I mention that everyone barring T and myself has turned into complete and total alkies, drinking virtually every night? I marvel to him about how much we’ve spent on food, and he’ll reply by saying that they outspend us on alcohol alone. There are boxes lying on the ground outside, cans scattered both inside and out, 10 Jagermeister bottles forming a proud display on the dining table, bottles on the kitchen windowsill and worst of all, nasty, icky, sticky plastic twister shot glasses – you know, the prepackaged kinds you buy for $2 a pop – lining the counter. I’d had enough this week and cleaned up the counter side of the kitchen, but not again.
Did I also mention that our head flatmate (the one who followed us over from our last place) not only failed to get the rent out the other week but racked up overdraft charges in the process, and didn’t pay the water bill on time? And one of the other guys, who’s in charge of the Sky TV account, didn’t pay at all and racked up massive fees? (Thankfully, I don’t give a flying rat’s, seeing as I don’t watch or pay for it).
As much of a mess as they’re making – literally and figuratively – it’s SO very good to have a break from having all the responsibility. All I gotta worry about is food, keeping the bathroom hygienic, and paying our rent and share of the bills. It’s still nowhere near what our heinous ex-flatmate put me through.
Friday’s outfit:
Saturday’s outfit:
I am done, done, done with landlords. I’m never taking on a tenancy again.
I will live with other people if it means not dealing with bullshit like this.
Our run of good luck is up. Not that I thought this would be simple, don’t get me wrong! No matter how many times T assured me moving out would be fine and how the LL wouldn’t make things a hassle, I knew it would be. He needs to trust my instincts!!
So this week has brought the worst weather all year. Storm warnings were issued and although Auckland never really gets the worst of anything, we still got hit hard by wind, rain, thunder and lightning. I’m talking torrential downpours, beating down on my laundry line and leaving me out of clean underwear for days.
Anyhow, the roof at the old house finally gave way and sprung a leak, soaking the carpet in the living room. It’s been a long time coming. In June the ceiling started bubbling up, which we mentioned to him. I even took a photo of the bubbling paint, so we can prove it. Back then, he said not to worry and that some of the roof tiles had been replaced. Whether they did or not, or whether they did a crap job, something went wrong this last week, and the house is now about as far from watertight as you can get.
This prompted the LL to send me a shitty text, saying one of us must have cracked the tiles while up on the roof. Can you say RIDICULOUS? Why on earth would anyone be up on the roof? Certainly not to remove the aerial, like he suggested – it came with the house, and that’s where it’s going to stay. And, what’s more, it’s OBVIOUSLY STILL THERE. And how much of a coincidence is it that the roof caved in the exact spot where the paint began bubbling months ago, where the tiles were allegedly replaced?
Roof aside, the whole house is incredibly damp and always had had a problem with damp. Every time I’ve been back since we moved, my sinuses flare up and my nose starts running (or dripping, sometimes). Not surprisingly really; breathing in mould spores can’t be good for anyone. That place is turning into a health hazard.
T walked the LL around, and did all the talking, explaining that we’d warned him about the ceiling months ago and that we had done nothing to cause damage to the roof (something he’s refusing to admit. He’s going to get a builder’s opinion, which I am more than confident will reflect the truth – that there’s four months of water damage in the ceiling, if not more.)
I’m just irritated because this is the last thing I need. I do not need the stress! Sounds like this is going to drag out forever and who knows when we’ll get our bond money back. Thankfully, T is happy to deal with this. I hate conflict, and he’s much more confident and knowledgable in matters like these. He says the LL was pretty quiet, unusually, and simply walked around the house looking mopey because he knows the house is falling apart. Our old room? So damp you can see the outline of the rafters coming through, the ceiling is getting soft, and did I mention how I could see my breath in front of me in there during winter?
As if that’s not enough, heinous flatmate only turned up at the last hour this morning to clean. Then asked if he would be getting some bond back. Hello, you never actually paid any! This is partly my fault. When we first moved in, our other two flatmates shifted in two weeks before we did and paid the full rent for the house (ie, double). So I wasn’t too strict about chasing up bond in addition to that; I was just grateful they were willing to cover for us. When the heinous flatmate started “paying off” his bond, he was so far behind on bills, I put every payment towards bills. There was never any money left over to go towards a bond. Not, of course, that he keeps track of anything enough to know this.
Kudos to you if you’ve read this far! /end rant
Okay, dear readers, much has been going on! Let’s try to recap.
I got the death flu.
We moved.
And I haven’t had the internet.
Moving has been a miracle – nothing short of a dream. I’m honestly amazed.
Basically, our (nonheinous) flatmate went ahead and secured a new house. It was sitting vacant, but the LL offered half price rent for our notice period to help us through – what a star of a guy. He may be young, but he has way more money than our old LL, thankfully. Right now we’re all moved in, but are still paying rent on the old place… unless new tenants move in early. There are possibilities, but the LL is being incredibly delusional and trying to up the rent to $420 (despite the increasing damp problems and safety issues from the state house hoodlums). We still need to move a few things, CLEAN, and sort out T’s old car – he needs to take a few more parts off to send off to an Invercargill buyer, then he has someone keen to take the rest of the car off his hands. Meanwhile, I am hoping to square up heinous flatmate’s outstanding bills ($300 plus).
I am just so deliriously happy to live in a dryer, warmer and safer place.
This place is still overpriced even after a rent reduction, but it was through a private LL (very rare) so no letting fee. He didn’t even run a credit check – our flatmate REALLY lucked out this time! There’s no way he would have passed even a basic property manager’s screening. Frankly, it’s unbelievable he got this place (and I’m quite annoyed considering it took FOUR MONTHS for me just to get our last place), but the LL liked him and didn’t want a repeat of his last tenant debacle (large family from the Islands, illegal overstayers, brought over tons of their extended family and crowded the house…till Immigration showed up). We’re paying pretty much the same rent, for a smaller but INSULATED room, an alarm, dishwasher, covered parking, and Smart Vent system.
Bad things: Still up to an hour’s commute, but there is more choice in buses here. Still my name on the Telecom account and bill, but not power or rent. Still have to deal with wrestling/fighting flatmates, but I’m slowly getting to where I want to be….
And with heinous flatmate gone – oh my gosh, the relief! No more rubbish and recycling sitting in the kitchen, no more toilet rolls disappearing and never being replaced, no more mud and dirt all over the floors, no more cutlery disappearing or breaking, no more piles of dirty dishes, no more cordless phone disappearing and going flat, no more crumbs and spills all over the kitchen, no more lids being left off margarine containers….the list goes on.
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