The nightmare of selling the Hogpen is over. What the system terms `an exchange of contracts` took place last week, whilst we were stood in Aldeburgh High Street licking an ice cream - morello cherry flavour, I believe. Our solicitor gave us the news over a very broken mobile phone signal. He said, "Are those seagulls I can hear in the background"? I said, "If they are, will you charge me extra for this call?" Oh how he laughed. It was Carnival weekend. I tried to get a picture of the band of the Brigade of Gurkhas leading the parade, but these wonderful soldiers just march too darn quickly. Several thousand people thronged into this little town for the weekend. It was noisy, they were out on the beach till very late, you couldn't find a parking place anywhere (we parked on a little back street on Friday and didn't drive anywhere until Tuesday) and yet no shop windows were put in, no one was shot at and the only flames were in the Chinese lanterns parade, which we took part in, and the fireworks on the beach afterwards. What's wrong with these people?
It was almost 2 years to the day that we decided to sell up. We have had two `non-buyer's` who cost us two lots of solicitors fees to move absolutely nowhere. We have had 3 estate agents. The first wasn't technically an estate agent as he did lettings, but he charged us a very small fee to enter us on `Right Move`. He was a bloody good bloke and in different times he would have done really well, but 3 weeks after we signed up with him the economy went on strike. The second agent was true to our past experiences. We got a buyer, she then lost her buyer. We took the house off the market to rest our nerves.
We used the third, successful, agent when we went back into the fray in May. The viewings positively flew through the door. The 14th made the offer we accepted. Turned out she wanted it when we were with the previous agent but was beaten to the post by the one that crashed and burned. Pity that agent didn't retain her details and give her a call as we'd have all saved ourselves 6 months valuable living time. Talk about not thinking outside the box -duh. The third agency was good and the lady who handled it was good, but Judas H Priest does this shitty English conveyancing system need a serious Parliamentary kick in the arse.
We have 6 weeks to move-out day. Packing will be easy. Catching one of our cats will not.
I sold one of my motorbikes (the BMW 1150 GS) to assist in funding Mrs HD a new car. Its a Fiat 500. I have yet to find out where I check the oil and vinegar. Whilst I was in an Italian frame of mind I checked out the Moto Guzzi website - Oh Glory!! I do believe they've hooked me again. Ciao.