My experience of estate agents - Part 2: Irish-side
2020-05-31 Comments
This is the story all about how, our lives got changed, turned upside down, when my husband got a job offer in Dublin, and how challenging it was to find a place to live in...
...it began 2 months before the contract was about to start, we made moves to set up life in Ireland. We flew out several times to open a bank account and went in search of renting a flat. We hadn’t done our homework and were very naive in thinking that we would simply find a place near where my husband’s office, so he could roll out of bed and walk to work within 5-10 minutes. By the way, it took us 3 months to open the bank account, yes that is correct - 3 months! The bank and branch we chose was apalling. Between collecting, collating and entering our information, they somehow lost our details and we had to go through the process all over again. To this day, we're not even sure they closed and cancelled the account properly, even though we went to the branch to do it.
Whilst we were there the first time, we sent out emails a few days beforehand to line up flat viewing appointments for when we arrived. None of the agents responded to enquiries or requests for viewings that my husband had raised on the back of their listings. We put it down to some of them being rude. We got a trickle of responses, but nothing that resulted in us looking at properties.
The second visit to Dublin was still unsuccessful with getting an appointment through any of the adverts and we began to sweat a little in our search. We had used our UK mobile numbers as part of the contact details. One of the estate agents replied to say, since we were not already living in the city, we would have a hard time getting viewings. We were in a catch 22 situation. We re-evaluated our current method of the flat hunt and changed things up for our next scouting trip.
On the third visit, we picked up a couple of local sim cards and put these contact numbers in the response message and got more replies. Plus, we added the fact we were a "professional couple, non-smokers with no kids or pets". Time was pressing on, only a few more weeks left before my husband’s start date was due. We were staying for 8 days and we managed to cram in a handful of viewings for 5 of those days. We lost the first few days to the area we were looking at. There were hardly any properties that came up because that area was so sought after, but when they did, were extortionate.
Next, we looked for places within a few miles, maybe up to half an hour’s walk away from the office. We saw a few scattered around the south side of the river and secured viewings for them. The first viewing was to a room in a house which was 15 minutes walk away from the office. The place was on the corner of a quiet road, a couple of blocks behind the high street. It was quite pleasant.
There was a young guy already waiting outside when we got there. We approached him and asked if he was the agent. He said no, but we got chatting while we waited. Apparently, there were 2 rooms for rent in the house, one single and the other a double. He was telling us he already lived in a house of 10 people and wanted his own space, which was understandable. As we waited more and more people started to join us. I looked at my husband, who raised his eyebrows. We counted about 20 people, all wanting to see the rooms. People were sussing each other out and we overheard a woman who was checking the room out for her son. He was living in student accommodation, but wanted to move out. Then a Spanish guy snapped "he already has a place, better he stays where he is". He sounded a bit bitter and annoyed and my husband and I smothered a giggle as we made eye contact at his narky comment. I noticed quite a few student-types while casting an eye over the crowd.
Finally, the estate agent arrived and he let us in. He noticed my English accent and I chatted him up a bit. We had a look at the double bedroom and it was small. I think it was a living room that was converted into a studio flat. There was a sad 2 ring electric hob in a corner near a sink. For laundry, there was a communal washing machine in the basement. We would have to purchase tokens from the estate agent to use it. He asked if we would be interested in the room and since we had no comparison yet, we told him we'd have to think about it. Later on, he emailed to offer us the room and said there were no other suitable candidates - really? Out of 20 people?. We replied that we had other viewings lined up and would give him an answer the following afternoon. The following day, we got a call from the agent chasing us for an answer and we politely declined and thanked him for considering us.
It was maybe about the third viewing for a 2 bedroom flat we attended that things hit home a bit, on the downside. We got there early and the door to the ground floor was open. I saw some silhouettes through the window, moving around. But since we were due to meet the agent outside for an alloted time, we waited by the front door. Suddenly, this other guy walked past us and straight inside the flat. The next moment, there was an amazing eruption of a woman’s voice screeching at him that she was not ready and barked him out of the flat. He came out with a sheepish look on his face and stood by the door.
When it was our turn to view the flat, she came to the door and ushered us in. Her attitude was one of apathy, distaste and annoyance at us for being there. We looked round the flat and it was nice enough. We tried to talk to the agent but she was so short and wanted to push us out the door, once we had toured the flat. When we came out, there were about another 3 more couples lined up outside and more were joining the queue. Needless to say she sent us a rejected email. She was the most rude and arrogant woman on earth.
Our third from last appointment, was to an "open house" viewing. This is where the agent invites all and sundry at once to the property, pretty much a free-for-all. We were there early to check out the area. The house was one in from a corner property, opposite a pub on a main through road. The other road led up to a market area. It was quiet at first and we stood just outside the main door, then a few minutes later more and more people arrived. Some people who arrived after us, decided to wait on the other side of the front door so there were 2 lines of people snaking left and right of the house. I decided to capture the moment and crossed over the road to take this picture. The red dot is my husband.
It was like a conga line round the block. When the agent arrived everyone just pushed their way in, like the sales on Black friday, elbowing each other in the rib to be the first in. What struck us immediately as we went in was the stale, musty smell of the house. We didn’t think the previous people opened the window because they’d just get the smell of car exhaust fumes and the noise of the traffic. We maneuvered our way past a couple of women with their kids, to the back yard...literally a tiny yard overcast by the neighbouring house’s shadow. Depressing. We took a preliminary look upstairs, where it was even more stale smelling and scrambled down the stairs past the throng of people and straight out the house. We both agreed not to waste any more time on that place. It was a shame since it was a 3 bed house. But the location and smell was too much to handle. A thought crossed our minds whether someone had died in the house, possibly in the bedroom.
Our second to last viewing, was the one that stuck out in our mind. Again, we got there early to get a feel of the area. It was next door to the Guinness factory, but the general area seemed OK. We were waiting outside the main door of the building and saw a car pull up a bit further up the road. I made a comment to my husband in guessing this was the agent we were due to meet. I could see a guy in the car, putting on his tie and smoothing out his hair. I gave my husband a nudge and teased we’d be getting one of those flashy guys, and he just smiled to humour me. Then the guy came out of the car and elaborately swung his jacket in a twirl over to make a show of him putting on his suit jacket. It did make me grin, as he came striding up to us in his cheesy swagger.
He introduced himself as Liam. He filled us in on the background of the flat and how the landlord was a laid back guy as it was his first investment. They’d just had the flat redecorated for the new tenancy. We told him our background and how my husband was due to start work for a company in Dublin and mentioned how difficult it was just to find a place to rent. As he saw us out, I asked him how many more viewings he had lined up. We took the lift down with him and he told us there was another booking lined up later, but the candidate was unsuitable due to their being on welfare. Then I expressed our interest for the flat and he began to open up about himself. He said he had found a flat for another guy who worked at my husband’s new company. He also mentioned that he liked the UK and had studied there for his undergraduate degree. We chatted more on the way down and he saw us out. He said he had to consult with the landlord and he’d contact us the next day if we were successful.
We were at breakfast the following morning and were worried about the rental situation. We had our last viewing booked in an hour’s time and 1 day away from returning to the UK without securing a flat to live. We were considering a back-up plan when we got a call from Liam. He said the landlord agreed to rent to us and we had to go and sign the contract. After we hung up we attended the last viewing and the flat was all right and even nearer the office. When we spoke to the agent, we mentioned how difficult it had been to find somewhere suitable to live and had an offer from a landlord. His little face lit up and told us to go with that one, since we got the offer. Wow, an actual nice agent!
Even though we went through a worrying time and were put through the wringer, looking back we considered how lucky we were. Compared to some of the other stories through my husband’s workplace, there were still people looking for a place to rent several months after starting work. One guy was staying on a friend’s sofa and another was still living out of a hotel room. My husband's line manager was sympathetic to the situation and let people attend any daytime viewings at short notice. A local who worked at the office, explained that after the housing bubble burst in 2008, developers were reluctant to invest in any new projects, so there’s a huge shortage in properties. Things are exacerbated by all the big international companies setting up in Dublin (because of the tax breaks) and hiring from abroad. So there are more people chasing a fixed small amount of properties.
From friends’ experiences and my own dealings with British estate agents, the Irish ones are equally as unprofessional. Although, there were a couple who were halfway decent. But for the majority, they default to the worst of human nature.