I know I have alluded to the fact that I'm not that enamoured with our new house. But until it was properly ours I felt it rude to say exactly to what extent. However, now with the keys in our pocket I feel I have free reign... We have gone from this....
... to this..
First though, I want to pre-empt all of what follows by saying that I know, one day, it will be amazing and beautiful... just not anytime soon.
Our situation is thus. We have brought this ugly 1960's bungalow which has been operated as a holiday let for the last god knows how long. The previous owners didn't think to stop taking bookings for the property when they put it on the market and as such, part of the condition of sale was for us to take over the bookings which will carry on until October. After which it will be ours to move into. In order to facilitate this, we have also had to buy the entire contents of the house. This has the advantage that it's not our furniture that is in here when holiday makers are but has the disadvantage that we have had to purchase a whole heap of shite furniture and art work... and when I say shite, oh boy!
There isn't one piece of furniture that I would consider having in my house.. not one. There is a lot of leather furniture (some white leather furniture, to boot) and lots of brass pictures - which I hadn't realised was even a thing. We have fake chandeliers, fake flowers... even fake fruit, which, quite amusingly children have tried to take bites out of and still no one thought to throw them out!
The garden is small (that's OK), but is full of, what I call, 'old peoples plants'. The type that need very little maintenance yet still has an old lady floral appeal to them. The whole house smells like a Nursing Home and I just want to rip everything out and start again. Which is exactly what we'll do come October. Even the kitchen clock annoys me. It ticks very loudly, which again, reminds me of old people.
I can't even write the blog from the house as I find its blandness and mundanity sucks any creative flow from me entirely.
However, for everything it doesn't have it has two great things going for it.
It's location. Situated on the edge of Portscatho with fields owned by the National Trust behind it. It's a two minute walk to Porthcurnick Beach and the wonderful Hidden Hut and a five minute walk into the village, the harbour and the two great pubs we have here.
We have a great view of the sea... not totally uninterrupted (there is no way we could afford that), but not bad. And once we make the house and upsidedown house with our living area upstairs, we'll be able to make the most of it.
So, there you go. We've moved 210 miles to a house that I actually hate but has the potential to be amazing... once we can finally get in.
On the other hand, our rental is fabulous and I love it. It's small but perfect. Situated on a small farm, half a mile outside of Portscatho, it has a largish garden and floods with evening light. We almost wish we hadn't brought the ugly bungalow and just rented this instead, but where would the fun in that be? The challenge is to make our ugly old persons home into a perfect coastal party pad and comfy retreat... Game ON!
Oh! And P.S. Just met the lovely lady who does the changeovers for our ugly, gopping, 1960's bungalow who tells me it has a severe damp problem and unless we have the humidifier on 24/7 black mould will cover the walls.... fucking marvellous!
댓글