On House Hunting In South Wales And Ebook Hunting In The Amazon

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Yesterday then. Earmarked for initial house viewings. Saving time. The idea explained before is that as I'm working afternoon/evening shift for the next five days (this excludes Sunday) I would look at three houses and should I like them then they move on to face the more stricter test of wife/daughter on Saturday.

Four houses were earmarked. As it turned out however it would only be three that I would see. The fourth, when I was trying to arrange an appointment, went something like this.

"Well you see there have been two offers " said the estate agent "but we have been unable to reach the owners. I don't know what's happened".

All very well (actually all very not well) but the question remained why was this house still on the website? Of course didn't actually ask. I might need his help again in the future.

What this meant was that for Penarth and surrounding areas I had three viewings. One for nine thirty in the morning, the remainder for twelve and twelve thirty..........yes I know.

House number one was a relatively (I'm guessing thirty years) bedroomed modern house. It was OK. It certainly needed a bit of love in the decoration department but it was certainly livable. The downside, even allowing for our downsizing intention, was the kitchen part of the kitchen diner. It was just too small in the area of cupboard space (something like a wardrobe the wife never has enough of) and there was no obvious place for a tumble dryer. Still, it had enough going for it to be considered a maybe.

I then had about two hours to spare wandering around the streets of Penarth. Part of which was spent in a couple of estate agents I'd missed when first doing a trawl of them in January. One gave me a group of pamphlets with houses that were in our price range. The other was a combined lettings/estate agent firm. The estate agent was not there when I'd arrived so gave someone from the lettings side my email address assuming that a list of available houses was going to come my way. At time of writing no such list has come my way.

Otherwise had an early lunch of two sausage rolls washed down with Lucozade. Gastonome that I am.

Arrived early for house number two. A four bedroom semi detached just a few streets away from house number one. I spent the time whilst waiting staring to read Lorna Doone by R D Blackmore. The sort of classic book you feel you should read before you die.

(The observant amongst you would realise that I've finished the Christina Rossetti poetry collection. To be honest it was the sort of thing that my opinion of is best described as a shrug).

What I hadn't understood from looking at the website was why the prices of house number one and two were so similar given that this one had an extra bedroom. The answers revealed themselves as you walked in. Not only did the house need decoration it also seemed to need cleaning from top to bottom as well some bits of plastering......and carpeting. Work had been done but whatever had been planned for this house it was unfinished.

The estate agent revealed why. Apparently the current owners had decided to divorce and just stopped the improvements in the house there and then. Obviously it's not for me to discuss their affairs (and let me stress I've no idea nor should I know) but I would've understood if it was following emotional recriminations of adultery but not because they had enough of each other. It seemed to have made more sense to have sorted the house out before going their separate ways.

But none of the above issues were the reason I rejected it. Neither was the lack of wardrobe space in the main bedroom.

No it was the mould.

And in a very unusual place too. Either side of the bed by the floor in that main bedroom. The estate agent said that she hadn't noticed it before. She suggested getting an expert to look at it but really that was clutching at straws. Rejected.

House number three was an end three bedroomed terraced Victorian house and I loved it. The bathroom was the first time in this whole process that I went wow. The place had character, charm and adequate space for our needs.

But there was an elephant in the room, or rather out of the room, and out of the house...parking.

The photo in the website suggested that it was on a street corner. There wasn't a corner. There's some sort of building and then a corner  There was a parking permit on a first come first served basis but as we have two cars the best place for the other is a quiet street around the corner which obviously would involve a walk. A maybe.

Later when I was at home and the wife came in I showed her the two houses I considered maybes. She threw even more doubts on house number three, disliking the kitchen colours for the cupboard (what?) and the bathroom (how dare she!) and laughing mockingly when I mentioned the parking problem. I suspect that the parking will be the thing that will kill house number three off. She will be seeing it on Saturday however.

Wife has also surprised me by being interested in a house amongst the leaflets one of the estate agents gave me when I had time to fill in Penarth. Surprised because this house is further from Penarth than I'd expected her to consider. So on Saturday afternoon she and daughter will be visiting three houses.....lucky them.

As until I've moved/settled all of my reading is going to be Kindle based I decided to temporarily change my book buying whilst waiting for that day. So instead of a £1 a week looking for a vintage Penguin/Pelican paperback I've decided on the first of every month to spend up to £5 on ebooks.

For the most part my Kindle is filled by classic books that are free (hence Lorna Doone) or by by cheap "daily deals" Amazon do. I'd read and enjoyed Victoria Coren's autobiography of her experiences playing poker,For Richer For Poorer, for just 99p (as I've mentioned before I loved it though I still couldn't tell you the rules of the game....or is it a sport?).

I also bought the Life of Pi by Yann Martel for 20p. Which, having read it, is nineteen pence too much.

So I started on the Amazon "Daily Deal". Nothing of any interest to me. Which is a shame as out of curiosity I looked at the deal the day before and it included books by Carrie Fisher which I would have bought.

Moved on to the "Monthly Deal". Most either were, or seemingly written in the style of a bestseller. None of them seemed to appeal to me as much they used to as a teenager.

(A quick aside here. I'm not against bestselling books - which I'm classing here as books specifically written to make money - it's just I suspect an age thing in terms of what I'm interested in now as a man in my fifties. Mind you. I did out of curiosity look for Arthur Hailey, one of my favourite "bestselling" writers and was shocked to find that they were on sale, as an ebook , for over six pounds!)

There was "We Need To Talk About Kevin" by Lionel Shriver but as a parent I was avoiding that really out of fear.

Only then did I notice Gorky Park by Martin Cruz Smith for just 99p. I remember the book when it came out in 1981. It was one of those that you mean to read but somehow life interferes. Well opportunity knocked (don't have a doorbell) and it was bought.

Looked at the "Readers Who Bought This Also Bought". Most were subsequent books in the Renko series which were of course more expensive for this exercise. Also though noticed March Violets by Philip Kerr. This is the first book in the Bernie Gunther series of private eye novels set in Nazi Germany. It was both interesting and also at 99p cheap. Bought.

Having gone through the list looked at what Amazon were "recommending" for me. One of them turned out to be Das Kapital by Karl Marx. I've remarked before how I seem to be unusual in having drifted leftwards politically the older I've got. It would be interesting on reading this seminal work how left wing I've actually become. It was also 99p. Bought. Karl Marx as a bargain. Wonder when that was last said?

There were a number of cheap omnibus books by various (now dead) writers but the problem was that in one form or another I'd already got at least some of these. But casting my eye on the Amazon recommendations I noticed Oblomov the classic Russian novel by Ivan Goncharov. It was 99p,it was cheap, it was bought.

Having gone through the "Readers Who Bought Oblomov also bought" bit, I found A Hero Of Our Time by Mikhail Lermontov. Never heard of this book before but apparently it's a Russian classic and the plot seemed intriguing. It was also 76p.Bought

And so it finished. Three books with a Russian connection, two with a German one. Or, Two thrillers, two classic novels and a work of political theory. Whatever that says about me I don't know. Probably Amazon do though.

Until the next time.

In Which I Learn That New Houses Are Like Chocolate Bars As We Go From Penarth To Barry With George

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

A Sunday where like the day before the grey sky threatened snow but thankfully chickened out. Still it was bitterly cold helped by the wind which swept up and wrapped you up in its icy embrace.

Perfect day then to go out.

Wife and I had decided to spend the day going out and doing some of those things that my short illness stopped us from doing the weekend before. First off was a trip to Penarth but not the Penarth by the water but the relatively new housing development called Penarth Heights. Which is basically housebuilder speak for you can see the sea but from a distance

Once upon a time this was known as the "Billy Banks". The area with, shall we say, the reputation. Now on this matter I'm not going any further simply because it wasn't long after I moved to Wales that things began to change and this development began (what I'm trying to say is that I've no personal experience of what it was beforehand). Clearly though things had changed. These new houses had this multi coloured building block look. As if constructed by Lego.

Going into the sales office we agreed to go and view two three bedroomed showhomes. Both as it happened were a waste of time. New homes we realised were just like chocolate bars as they were smaller than in the past despite the glossy exterior. Few of the bedrooms on show tellingly had wardrobes but you instantly knew they'd be too small.

The living rooms too made you wonder where would you put more than one sofa.

The most incredible part of the trip was when the wife enquired as to whether there was an attic in the second house. "Yes" came the reply from the sales lady. But because of the insulation if the developers discovered you had put stuff up there for storage then if there was a problem you had violated the terms of the new build guarantee. An attic without storage......daft really.

It had been a good learning experience even though in the end we didn't go further forward.

The second part of the day was to be spent visiting a friend in her new house in Barry Town. She actually moved last September following her divorce but that particular weekend I'd not been able to visit because of a preplanned trip to visit my mother in Essex so I had not visited the house before as other factors (mainly work) had stopped me.

From the outside the house was that classic Welsh terraced look which is not unattractive. However it gave no indication of the clean ,modern look inside. It was one of the most deceptive houses I had ever seen. It appeared that by having the wall between the dining and living rooms taken away open plan living had been achieved in an instant. Our friend it appeared had fallen her feet. We were pleased for her. The past few years had been tough.

And through all this time I had George Eliot's The Mill on the Floss with me to read when opportunity arose. It has become one of those books you are itching to read at every possible moment. Yes it's that good.

It's not the book I've finished today though. That's Welcome To Kington by Miles Kington. To be honest I didn't like it at all. It simply wasn't funny. Alan Coren is still king in my eyes.

Amongst the great e unread on the Kindle the next book selected is a book of poetry by Christina Rossetti. We'll see how that pans out.

Until the next time.