URSABLOG: Accommodating Priorities

There comes a time in every man’s life when he has to make a set of priorities for himself. That time has come for me. For the last six years or so I have lived in the centre of Athens, and I have been happy. Changes come, and now it’s time to move on, and all for the right reasons.

I moved into my first flat in the centre at the end of the summer of 2013. It was on the first floor of a building on a pedestrian street, opposite a small bar. It was perfect. But then a wine bar opened next door to the existing bar, and then another bar opened on the other side, so on warm evenings the streets were full with happy, noisy people. Being someone who enjoys being happy and noisy with a drink in my hand, I was fairly tolerant, but a combination of many things – not least the washbasins of the toilets of one the bars being directly opposite my living room window – meant I had to move on.

I found another flat a short distance away, on a street with no bars, and have been there ever since. It is a beautiful flat in a beautiful building, in a lovely spot, again on a pedestrian street, which has been perfect for my needs. Until now.

For some time my girlfriend and I had been talking about how we could be together in a more meaningful way; living in different countries was proving difficult and expensive. Suddenly however the stars aligned, the barriers stopping us evaporated and in January, she moved in. But even before she arrived, I had to start making some space for her. For me, initially at least, this meant moving some bookshelves around, and packing some of the more esoteric – i.e. unlikely to be read in a hurry – books in boxes. Evidently I should have known that this was not enough: I had to find real practical space in wardrobes and drawers, which meant throwing some of my clothes – and other things - out altogether. And, of course, having lived alone for some years I had collected a lot of stuff that was easily kept, and forgotten, but not easily let go of. After some serious soul searching, and some full and frank exchanges, and having to accept the fact that my waistline would never match my aspirations, the plastic bags were filled, and disposed of.

We also had to find and buy some furniture that could fit into the remaining tight and awkward spaces left unfilled in the flat. This too proved very challenging, especially trying to put together the wardrobes and then fit them into the said tight and awkward spaces; I discovered that one does not necessarily, or logically, follow the other. But in the end, when it was done, it was cathartic and fulfilling and symbolic of starting a new phase of our life together.

But making space, it turns out, is not enough. It’s still my flat and my stuff mostly, for no other reason that I was there first. We need to find a place to live that reflects what we both want, and can share, and can live in, otherwise my girlfriend, my partner, will not feel that it’s her home too. She also has her stuff that she will want to have around her. I fully understand that, so we have started looking for somewhere else to live.

This is where the fun should start, but it turns out that finding a flat is not quite the same as buying a ship. Buying a ship starts off with identifying the ideal age, size, specification and makers list of the ship, and then almost immediately runs into the realisation that few such ships exist, and if they do, they are not for sale, and even if they are, they are more expensive than we would hope. Then they are not in the right place at the right time, for inspection or delivery, and there is a hell of a lot of competition, and there are other buyers more aggressive than us, or the broker that we are using is hopeless, or that the ship is not really for sale at all.

Hang on. Looking for a flat is exactly the same as buying a ship.

Anyway, first of all we have to get the basic ‘must haves’ in place:

-         Minimum two bedrooms

-         Minimum 90 m2

-         First floor or above

-         Unfurnished

Then there are the preferences:

-         Location

-         View (i.e. daylight)

-         Balcony or terrace

-         Decent sized kitchen

-         Bath

-         Type of heating

And on top of all that there are the good points or bad points that may swing us one way or the other.

You will be glad to know that we both agree on the basics, but the preferences come in different levels of desire for both of us. My girlfriend has not lived in Athens before, so maybe is not as used as I am to the challenges it presents. Or maybe I am at heart a city boy, and like the hustle and bustle of downtown life. Balconies are nice luxuries for the British, not having been brought up with their charms, and I can live without them. My girlfriend is used to balconies and veranda as essential living spaces, having been brought up in a climate where inside and outside is much the same for long periods of the year, something that maybe I should explore more fully.

Then there is my prejudice against the southern suburbs, in particular those on the other side of the old airport. I will not bore you with my reasoning on this – you would probably find it irrational and offensive, which it probably is, but damn it there are some values we have to hold on to in life – but it is a deal breaker for me. My girlfriend loves the sea, and I am starting to poke around Palaio Faliro and Alimos to see if I can bear it. But I fear I cannot. I don’t object to the sea; Piraeus remains an option.

Most of our research has been done online of course, and the one flat that we both decided we liked and fitted our needs was suddenly withdrawn because the owner was talking to a friend of hers privately. I berated the agent who gave me this information in much the same way I expect as an irritated shipowner complains to his or her broker that they missed the ship they really wanted.

But now we have to move on from searching the internet for the ideal property for both of us, which does not exist, and start actually going and inspecting. This means taking us out of our comfort zone to see what could work, at what price, and factoring in a whole load of other compromises that we will have to make both with each other and with ourselves. At the same time however we are finding out a lot about each other too, which is a happy side effect.

So, placing ourselves into the shoes of buyers of ships, we will get on the road and inspect a few candidates. Having been bamboozled by long lists of opportunities that could be available, under certain circumstances, which are not really ideal, we will make a shortlist realising that we cannot immediately find the ideal one, or wait for it to fall into our laps. We will practice what I preach and be proactive, and get to know the market, and hope that something pops up which we didn’t expect, or didn’t consider, because in my experience, which ships at least, this is what normally happens. I also hope that when we do find the ideal property, we will be able to agree it is ideal for both of us. Wish us luck. 

Simon Ward

www.ursashipbrokers.com