Trust Me - I'm an Estate Agent
An Article by Bob O'Hagan
“The view from this place is to die for, so if I can't sell you this one then I can't sell you anything”. It was September 2005 and Dawn and I had decided, after having spent several holidays in Turkey, to buy a small place of our own. We were both close to retirement, so what could be more idyllic than to be able to laze away the summer days by a pool and then, in the evenings, dine either in a nearby lokanta or on the terrace of our prospective new summer home?
We considered the options, it all seemed relatively simple; we were two, we did not want any land to look after, our families were welcome to use our place, but we value our space and would not be inviting them or others to ‘come stay with us’ so a two bedroomed apartment that was not remote, had transport options, and came with a view, would be our ideal. After viewing a number of properties in Side, Altınkum, Fethiye and Çeşme, we found ourselves in Bodrum from where our search on the peninsula began, a search which eventually would end in Gümüşlük....
Sam, a delightful girl of Turkish/Greek nationality who spoke excellent English, was a charming, knowledgeable guide and the representative of a Bodrum estate agency. A Bodrum agency with London offices, how good is that? After all, once back in the UK we would have a local point of contact, and theoretically be kept fully informed!
Sam led us up a short stone path to a building that had started life as a villa, and later had been converted into two apartments. Once there we were shown to the upper floor. The interior of the apartment was a filthy rubble strewn shell, but the layout was OK, two bedrooms, a bathroom, lounge/kitchen/diner in fact in terms of size it was exactly right. Sam explained to us that her company was involved not only with the sale of the properties but with the construction and, to this end, were employing twelve artisans to ensure that, when finished, the properties would be completed to the highest standard.
We walked out onto the terrace and immediately fell in love with the fabulous uninterrupted views down to the blue waters of Çukurbuk bay, and then up and over Rabbit Island to Turgutreis. Further on and just a short sail of about 5km across the southern Aegean was the Grecian island of Kos, and then a little to the west lay yet another Greek island called Kalymnos.
The complex was of fifty houses, it had a swimming pool complete with loungers, sunshades and a pool bar, and to really guild the lily; the apartment was no more than twenty five metres from the front door, heaven!!
Taking our leave of Sam for the day, having promised to make contact the following day, we headed back to Bodrum for the night and to mull over the days’ events during dinner. The following morning we set off in a hire car for the day, and soon we were once again sitting on the terrace wall of the apartment that we had well, almost, decided to buy.
About midday we left the apartment to lunch at one of the fish restaurants in Gümüşlük Bay. Whilst there my mobile phone decided it was time to break the silence. “Bob its Sam, I need you to make a decision, we have another couple who want to buy the apartment”. Did I believe what I was being told? After all, she was an estate agent, and the reputation of estate agents go before them. Needing a little thinking time I said “Sam, I will call you back in a few minutes”. After all we knew that the previous afternoon the agents had shown another couple over the apartment. For only that morning we had met the English owners of another on-site apartment who had told us of our would-be rivals visiting the complex and viewing our apartment.
“Sam hi, it’s Bob. Dawn and I have decided to go ahead with the purchase.” “That’s great” she said, “we need some money from you to secure the apartment.” Finishing our lunch we made our way back to Bodrum and then on to the estate agents offices to seal the deal.
Having bought and sold a number of properties in England, we were very familiar with the process.
Once having decided to buy a property an offer is made and, if accepted by the seller, a deposit is then paid to a law practitioner who arranges for a number of searches to be carried out in order that the buyer is aware of any encumbrances or covenants that may impact on the new owner, and might in fact be reason for the sale/purchase to be nullified.
Once both parties are satisfied that all is proper and in order, a date is set for ‘The completion’, a day when the solicitors of both parties would, figuratively speaking, each place one hand on the cash and the other hand on the deeds, and at the nominated time, and simultaneously, one would let go of the deeds and take the money and the other would release the money and take the deeds. At that moment the property is bought and sold.
Give me £1,000 as a deposit now, a further £10,500 in a month’s time, and to keep things bowling along let me have a further £29,500 in six weeks’ time. The final payment will be due when you come to collect the keys. This scruffy bit of paper with a few meaningless paragraphs will be your contract. Now, you need a solicitor, we have a guy upstairs from us who gives us discounted prices, OK that’s settled then. Now in order that there is no hold up in proceedings due to you being in England you will need to appoint a power of attorney, that is a role for your solicitor, so our guy upstairs will be happy to handle that for a small fee, and because we are your representatives you can trust us to look after your interests, and as an additional service we will take photographs of your apartment as it progresses and keep you informed every step of the way!
After leaving the estate agents office we had a recap over a coffee. We had just handed over £1,000 and agreed to pay £10,000 four weeks later and then a further £30,000 in 10 weeks’ time and all this for an unfinished property that we would not see again for several months. In addition we had, on our behalf, appointed a solicitor whom we had never met. And to whom we had given our permission to act freely on our behalf. In fairness it should be said that we had been told about the necessity of obtaining military clearance, and that this was likely to delay the issue of the deeds. Was this clearance thing to ensure that I would not buy a property situated in a position that would enable me to flash Morse-Code messages to the enemy across the sea?
Having been either a sole trader or the owner of a limited company for the past 35 years this purchase seemed to me to be the most reckless incautious decision in both my business and private life that I had ever made. After all what security did I really have? None what-so-ever! The thought of a ‘leap of faith’ played constantly on my mind. A few sleepless nights later it was time to make our way back to BJV for our flight back to Gatwick.
October and then November came and went. During this time I had sent a few emails to both the agent and solicitor at their Bodrum offices, and all without the courtesy of a reply. Emails and telephone calls to the London offices were responded to with “it is unacceptable, I will give them a call and see what I can find out for you”, “hi Bob its Blah Blah holiday homes here, I have spoken to our people in Bodrum, they say don’t worry everything is going along nicely”. Yippee, that should be OK then!
By January 2006, we had parted with in excess of £40,000 and were not happy bunnies. In the preceding months we had made contact with several other Brits all of whom had used the same agents as we had, and all were using the same solicitor, and all were experiencing exactly the same communication difficulties as us. Surely our money had now disappeared into a black hole and there was some guy sitting on top of a Turkish mountain raising a glass of raki to yet another stupid Englishman whom had been parted from his money all too easily?!
Eureka! February had arrived and estate agent Sam had emailed us a couple of pictures of floor tiles - “progress on your apartment is going well, the builder wants you to select from these and he will get on with getting them down, your apartment will be ready by the end of March”. It was as though all of our Christmases had come at once, our money was safe, and had after all been used to buy an apartment. About this time we also heard from our Bodrum solicitor. All paperwork had been concluded and he was soon to exchange contracts with the vendor. We immediately went online, disappointment, there were no reasonably priced flights into Bodrum at that time of the year, but we could get to Dalaman with Onur Air in March. Flights booked and hire car arranged, it was late March and we had heard from our solicitor who had written saying “Spring has come early to Bodrum your keys are waiting here for you”. We set off from our Norfolk home en-route to Gatwick and a late night flight to Dalaman airport.
Some 4 hours later and at about 04:00 Turkish time the aircraft touched down in Dalaman, our hire car was waiting outside. A turn of the ignition switch revealed that there was at least half a teaspoon of fuel in the tank, and I had absolutely no idea where the nearest fuel station was.
I can’t remember ever being as concerned about getting to a garage as I was now, and had visions of us pushing the vehicle onto a garage forecourt. It was cold, very cold, probably marginally below freezing point and I wondered if the local news station would soon be carrying a story of the bodies of two foreigners found after having died of hypothermia because they had allowed their car to run out of fuel. Needless to say we soon pulled into a filling station and were shortly able to get on our way.
Dawn and I were both tired and irritable, and during the next three hours, whilst Bodrum bound, we had endured some moments of awkward silences to which I confess to being the main protagonist. The flight was not the most comfortable that we had ever had and, after clearing customs, we found our way outside into a pitch black pre-dawn cold early Turkish morning and the empty tank, and not even knowing which direction to point the car didn't serve to improve my mood. All the hours spent with my “Teach yourself Turkish” books and CDs seemed futile, and I was reluctant to make a fool of myself with some idiotic attempt for directions which would actually translate as “Does the room have a bath?” so, chickening out, my “Which way to Bodrum, mate?” elicited a grunt and hand gesture from the forecourt attendant to continue in the direction which I was pointed.
The drive to Bodrum was quite a strain, so tired I had to stop on a couple of occasions for forty-winks but eventually rolled down the hill into town at about 9am and was pleased to find our estate agent at his desk.
After the usual greetings and offers of coffee and cigarettes, came the first real news. “Don't worry, it will be OK but your apartment will take a few more days as it is not quite ready”. So, in spite of the assurances we had been given regarding the readiness of our summer home, we were now being asked to wait a little longer.
By now and no longer tired, we were fired up and ready to go. Climbing back behind the wheel we pointed our car down the Kibris Highway and set off for Gümüşlük.
On arrival at the apartment we found a couple of local chaps splashing paint about, a carpenter trying to build a bench on the patio, and another who we took to be an electrician messing about with the wiring. Apart from this it appeared that all the other outstanding jobs had been completed, so perhaps the waiting would not be prolonged. A couple of days later the lights worked, the painters had gone, and the patio bench had been stained - it seemed like everything was falling into place.
Much of the soft furnishings had arrived with us from the UK, so to finish off the job we needed to go shopping for the white goods, bedroom and lounge furniture, pots and pans, crockery, patio furniture, and we had also decided to purchase a couple of air conditioning units.
I have seldom come across a city that is more efficient at delivering its goods; we were absolutely delighted as without fail everything we had bought was delivered and installed the following day, a day that would stick in the mind for years to come. It was as filthy as you would find anywhere, the torrents of rain were being driven in horizontally by gale force winds, 30 seconds outside was enough to soak one to the skin! Of the workmen the air-conditioning engineer was OK, but his young assistant draped in bin liners to keep the rain out was sent onto the roof to drill the holes that would carry the cables. In spite of all of his difficulties and the merciless teasing by all present he continued to smile. Wonderful! The cooker fitter did his bit, the furniture boys not only delivered the stuff but built the wardrobes. In fact all we had to do was say “put it there please”. Great service. Our only difficulty was in persuading the guys delivering the white goods to carry them down twenty four steps and then up a further twelve steps into our apartment, in fact the entire journey was less than 30 metres and much heated debate ensued.
By the end of the day it was done and dusted, everybody had done their bit. We were so pleased with the effort made that we found a few extra shillings as a token of our thanks. That is, of course, with the exception of the dissenting delivery team from the white goods company who got the agreed fee and not a penny more.
We had another week to go before our scheduled return to the UK and during that time I had beaten a regular path to Koçtaş. Now, I will admit that me and the acronym DIY are not good bedfellows, I explain, to hang a picture I will position my ladder, grasp the hammer and a fist full of nails, because I will drop or bend plenty of them whilst trying to hit them with the hammer. Then again a package with the words “Easy to erect” is enough to bring on cold sweats. Nevertheless a couple of days later and with some assistance from the site staff, the curtains were up, the pictures were in place and apart from the weather which was still atrocious, the air-conditioning had been reversed as a heater, we had also purchased some fan heaters, but life was good and we set about making the most of our remaining time as we were to return home in two days’ time.
That same night, my sleep was disturbed by something landing gently on my cheek. Thinking it was a visitation by a creepy crawly I stuck my head under the duvet (yes, it was that cold) and went back to sleep. The morning light told another tale; it looked as if we had been hit by a snow storm during the night. The paint on the ceilings was falling off in crisp sized flakes, the bed, bedside tables, dressing table and floor had been covered in what appeared to be a dusting of snow, Within the next few moments we had surveyed the whole of the apartment, to say it resembled a winter wonderland is obviously an exaggeration, but to say the roof was not watertight would be an understatement, in fact it would be more suited to be used as a colander. Gathering our wits, waterproofs and umbrellas (for the heavens continued to empty themselves on us) we set off for a confrontation with whoever we could find. On the way to the car park we called into the house next door where the painters were working, and stood watching in amazement as the painters slopped white paint onto a ceiling that was actually dripping water.
Within the hour we were in the estate agents office and were surprised to see one of our newly dispensed with painters sat opposite the agent, a painter we had seen about an hour before painting the dripping ceiling. We quickly explained the problem to the agent, who instantly responded by saying that according to the guy sat at his desk “the air-conditioning engineer had damaged the roof when drilling his cable holes and that is why the roof was leaking”. Following my question of did he think that a guy drilling one hole in a concrete roof would cause an area of 100m² to crack?
A few moments later and after making a phone call to the developer the agent told us that the on-site team would clear the roof and a specialist roof man would be brought down from Izmir to affect the repair and that we would be kept informed of the progress. A day or so later, as we were loading our suitcases into the car in readiness for our homeward journey, there was one of the gardeners on the roof scraping at the stone chippings with a shovel.
A couple of weeks later the estate agent sent me an email “The expert from Izmir has completed your roof, and to prove his work he have sealed the roof water gutters and flooded the roof, two days later not a drop had penetrated through the ceilings, so all that remains is for the concrete to be left to dry and then the ceilings repainted”. Job done!
About six weeks later we were once again en-route for Bodrum. We were simultaneously delighted and excited if a little apprehensive about what lay in wait.
Onur Air got us in at about 4am and the hire car only arrived after a number of phone calls, and when it did the driver had no difficulty in locating us as we were the only remaining passengers on the concourse.
After a couple of hours sleep it was time to scrutinise the roof. The stone chipping covering had been raked back over the surface, I can't say that the sight of the bits of ragged polythene rising through the chippings filled me with confidence. However it was June and the rainy season had finished and therefore no problems were encountered for the rest of year, and it would be true to say that water damage to the ceilings the following winter was marginal, though the fact that the rains had failed that year might have had a bearing on the issue.
The awful truth would be revealed the following year. We had returned to the UK in October and had wished our lives away during the long cold Norfolk winter. At last spring had arrived, the snowdrops and crocuses had been and gone, daffs were nodding their yellow heads and the forsythia was in full bloom, and we were euphoric at the thought of returning to the warm sunshine of Turkey and our second home in April. Our mood was soon dampened for, when unlocking our apartment door, we discovered that once again paint applied to the ceiling was being used to carpet the floor.
What we suspected was now apparent, the twelve expert artisans, the roof guy from Izmir, all were figments of imagination. What we were to discover next was that the moment we left the site two years ago, the fellow on our roof didn't even bother to relay the polythene sheets, just scraped the stones about and left.
We have since had the roof successfully repaired, so what comes next? Oh yes what's this ‘işkan’ thing all about, and why I am told that I need to make arrangements to buy my electricity from the utility company?
HELP!!!