i-want-more

Notes on living in a listed building

I live in a block of flats that is Grade 2 listed. This is because the estate we live on is of special architectural interest. This sounds posh, doesn't it...

When we first clapped eyes on our flat some nine years ago, it was love at first sight. We liked the estate from the exterior. When we were house hunting, we often drove down the street wondering what it was like to live here. Through a combination of factors (a broken collar-bone; a day off work to go to an anniversary party; a sale fallen through; the particulars of the flat posted to me when I happened to be at home to find them) we arranged a viewing and put an offer on the place within five minutes of walking into it.

This flat is extraordinary for a number of reasons that you don't really care about. I've loved living here. But there are snags.

When you're listed, there come a number of things that you need to be aware of and numerous rules to abide by. For example, if we wanted to install laminate flooring (we don't), the terms of the freehold prohibit it. If I wished to hang our laundry in front of our windows (I don't), the terms of the freehold prohibit it. The latter is one of the dafter rules in the book, but this gives you a flavour - there are many more.

Then there's the maintenance, which we pay a hefty quarterly charge for. We have soft wood window frames, which are a nightmare. Once every seven years we have our external window frames examined for rot and replaced by carpenters. This process is like pulling teeth. Broken glass, crappy paint jobs and a slapdash attitude prevails. The listing means that this estate is stuck with the soft wood, until the place falls into decay, presumably rotting from the window frames out. [I've not even touched upon the work that is needed on the interior window frames. Just the thought of that makes me break out in a cold sweat.]

Also - we have a flat roof. Freezing in the winter! Boiling in the summer! And likely to spring a leak just when you don't expect it!

A couple of people who live here love it to an obsessive degree, poring over the original architectural features and generally acting like unofficial curators. That's fine, it seems like a funny sort of hobby to me, but whatever floats your boat. My own view is that I'm not living in a museum. It's my bloody home, thanks.

This ramble leads me to make a statement of fact. I've enjoyed living in my place in the trees. It's gorgeous here in the spring and the autumn, especially when it's clean and tidy (rare). But we're both beginning to think about more space, and neither of us want to endure another winter here. So, the work begins to move on.

posted by deafdisco @ 2:33 pm