Done a runner

This whole tenant situation was a bit tense this past week. After last weekend, when the tenancy expired and the tenants refused to leave, we geared up for an all out war of paperwork in the courts. But after getting a whole lot of attitude from the !£$%^&* tenants, they said that they would leave on Friday.

Once we foud out that filing paperwork at the court would cost us £150 ($300) we decided to hold off to see if the would actually leave on Friday without a fight.

When I called on Thursday to arrange a check out time, Friday had become Saturday, and I saw before me a future filled with this same phone conversation over and over again. However, he finally agreed to a concrete time on Saturday. It was a good sign.

We drove down to Eastbourne, about an hour and a half away from us, and at the appointed time we rang the bell. No one answered. We went upstairs and rang the bell. Still no answer. We let ourselves in and the flat was empty: they had "done a runner" as the Brits would say.

Plus side: they are gone.
Minus side: we have no forwarding address and they owe us money.

Sigh.

But at least we didn't have to go to court, which would not have been entertaining.
What was entertaining, however, was the lady on the other end of the National Landlord's Associate advice line, who got more incensed at the situation than I was. She encouraged me to write a letter to the tenant's father decribing ourselves as honest people just trying to get by and the "disgusting behaviour" of the tenants. Clearly, she is a woman who loves her job. And I must say, I am tempted to take her advice.

Tenants from hell

Updates on and pictures of my kitchen sink will come when I get back home tomorrow. I have heard that we’ve made real progress, but haven’t seen it as I have been down in Seaford with my Grandma. Unfortunately, this is not a regular social call – we've got some very tricky business in Eastbourne, nearby.

I haven't blogged about this before because I didn't want to grumble, but now this is so all-consuming that I can't avoid it: in September, my husband and I bought an investment property in Eastbourne to rent out and ride the property wave into retirement. The beginning of our property empire. We hired a management agent and expected it to be smooth sailing.

However, the !£$%^&* management agent turned out to be very bad at choosing stable tenants and handling maintenance issues – basically, very bad at his job. We finally extricated ourselves from his contract, but have not yet been as successful with the tenants he installed.

These !£$%^&* tenants have not paid a penny of rent since April. They have not paid any money on time since February. After giving them every chance to pull themselves together, we followed all the legal steps and served the relevant notices to evict them. Now they have refused to leave.

You know that worst case scenario when you buy-to-let? Well, that's just about where we are.

And I'm SO MAD.

On the upside, I get to fill out tons of paperwork and negotiate with the Eastbourne County Court in trying to get a court ordered eviction. I also get to have argumentative and belligerent phone calls from the tenant. What fun! Not sure if this counts as "trying to keep myself entertained" but I am guessing that it will turn out to be a particularly British experience. Stay tuned for a very grumpy Sara.

I hope the new sink will cheer me up.