Mental Rental

This is the house in High Harrington in which we are currently living. I have to say that I thought it would be a straightforward operation to find a house for short-term rental in west Cumbria. How wrong I was. A month or so before we were due to move up from Devon my Wife came up to stay with her Dad for a week and sort out a house to rent. Nightmare! Rental agent after rental agent seemed to delight in telling her how little was available, almost with a sense of triumphalism in many cases. Luckily (and I use the word loosely) for us this house became available at the exact moment my Wife was standing in one of the letting agencies. It would've been too simple for things to progress in a hassle free manner, of course. For a start the previous tenant had bailed out owing a shed-load of money to all and sundry and leaving the place in such a state that the landlord had to have industrial cleaners in to sort out the mess. Secondly we have a cat. Cue a week of answerphone tennis between letting agent and landlord while we sweated over our feline ownership. Thirdly, the place is only 5 quid shy of 500 a month but actually worth at least a ton less. Every piece of woodwork in the place appears to have been gloss painted by Stevie Wonder, more runs than the Aussie cricket team. Still, beggars can't be choosers; I was out of work and rental places are almost non-existent because the rise in interest rates means that no-one's moving from rented into bought accomodation. People just can't afford to buy houses in this area. Still, our neighbours are great and that is some compensation. Now I have work we'll be able to start looking at buying our own gaff. Won't be a minute too soon.