story of a london flat - part 2
i had never been to a property auction, so in the name of research and curiosity, i went to the new connaught rooms in covent garden on the 9th of september to follow "my flat" every step of the way. the grand hall auction room was packed. i studied the audience but could not make out a particular "auction demographic". bidders comprised all ages, ethnic backgrounds, religion, gender and technology. some were bidding with a rolled-up newspaper, some holding up their registration number, some bid over the phone. the media were also present, in the shape of 3 tv cameras that were filming for a "new BBC1 daytime show". will it be called "how cheap is my house"? the lady next to me in the final row of chairs whispered that she was here for a house in gillinghan(?), dorset. the screen behind the auctioneer showed an ugly end of terrace house "with potential" in "interesting" 1970s design. the lady raised her arm with a newspaper extension a few times, acquired the house for 120,000 pounds and left. congratulations.
no. 46 came up as lot no. 23. at the start, the auctioneer felt obliged to make an announcement as to the many conditions for the flat. "the current owner has served a section 42 notice and has agreed a new lease on the 21st may 2008 at a premium of 610,852 pounds okys all related landlords legal and surveyors costs for a lease to expire on 28th september 2150 at a peppercorn ground rent." (catalogue quote). in short, this was a very expensive little maisonette, with a very short lease, plenty of extra costs, and for quick decisionmakers only.
the auctioneer looked like an accountant. slightly aloof and bored behind his podium. all his power was concentrated in the hammer (gavel is the technical term) he grabbed with his right hand, which every now and then came down with a bang to signal that a lot had found the highest bidder, auction closed. i was familiar with that procedure from tv. the auction master was, however, very reluctant to use the power of the gavel. in his fast, monotonous monologue he rattled down the offers, starting in steps of 2,000, then 1,000 pounds, then, to squeeze very possible pound from the bidders, in steps of 500. once there were no more handsigns from the audience, he waited... and waited... and finally banged down the hammer.
after the initial explanation around no. 46, the starting price for "my flat" was 250,000 pounds. silence. no offers? thought not. 240,000 pounds? one bidder. 241? another bid. so the bidding "war" continued all the way to 260,000 pounds. final offer? final. bang! my flat was sold for 260,000 pounds. or was it? "sorry, i cannot sell it to you at that price", was the surprise announcement by the auctioneer. apparently, so it was explained to me by my other neighbour, the reserve price of the seller was not met. so he put it up for auction, but would only sell it to a minimum price that remained a secret. odd! the auctioneer would say sorry quite a few more times on this day. clearly, even the auction world shows signs of the crunch. unrealistic expectations are exist on both sides of the hammer, though probably more so on the sellers' side.
i went home in the knowledge that the story of my flat was to continue.
no. 46 hamilton terrace is currently up for sale for 269,995 pounds. the agreement for a lease extension by the freeholder expired on 19th september.
no. 46 came up as lot no. 23. at the start, the auctioneer felt obliged to make an announcement as to the many conditions for the flat. "the current owner has served a section 42 notice and has agreed a new lease on the 21st may 2008 at a premium of 610,852 pounds okys all related landlords legal and surveyors costs for a lease to expire on 28th september 2150 at a peppercorn ground rent." (catalogue quote). in short, this was a very expensive little maisonette, with a very short lease, plenty of extra costs, and for quick decisionmakers only.
the auctioneer looked like an accountant. slightly aloof and bored behind his podium. all his power was concentrated in the hammer (gavel is the technical term) he grabbed with his right hand, which every now and then came down with a bang to signal that a lot had found the highest bidder, auction closed. i was familiar with that procedure from tv. the auction master was, however, very reluctant to use the power of the gavel. in his fast, monotonous monologue he rattled down the offers, starting in steps of 2,000, then 1,000 pounds, then, to squeeze very possible pound from the bidders, in steps of 500. once there were no more handsigns from the audience, he waited... and waited... and finally banged down the hammer.
after the initial explanation around no. 46, the starting price for "my flat" was 250,000 pounds. silence. no offers? thought not. 240,000 pounds? one bidder. 241? another bid. so the bidding "war" continued all the way to 260,000 pounds. final offer? final. bang! my flat was sold for 260,000 pounds. or was it? "sorry, i cannot sell it to you at that price", was the surprise announcement by the auctioneer. apparently, so it was explained to me by my other neighbour, the reserve price of the seller was not met. so he put it up for auction, but would only sell it to a minimum price that remained a secret. odd! the auctioneer would say sorry quite a few more times on this day. clearly, even the auction world shows signs of the crunch. unrealistic expectations are exist on both sides of the hammer, though probably more so on the sellers' side.
i went home in the knowledge that the story of my flat was to continue.
no. 46 hamilton terrace is currently up for sale for 269,995 pounds. the agreement for a lease extension by the freeholder expired on 19th september.
posted by SCHNUCKELCHEN at 11:03 am
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