‘Before’…
I figured it was about time I actually showed you some pictures of the house. Now, the word you have to keep repeating while looking at these is “potential.”
Terrace - spacious, overlooking the sea, odd rocks here and there painted in green gloss, and a big green fence blocking the view of the sea and shedding all over the terrace.
Downstairs kitchen - complete with cooker, woodworm-infested cupboards, extensive cooking utensils, 8 fold-out broken plastic chairs and, for inexplicable reasons, a door leading into next door’s house. And no pipes for hot water.
Downstairs bedroom - two single beds, a bunk bed, a folded up single bed against the wall and another two folded up single bed frames under the bunk bed sheets. A wardrobe, a picture of a nun, and enough sheets to make up all the beds 18 times over.
Downstairs bathroom - functional. But with a kitchen counter chopped up and used as a shower tray. And no pipes for hot water.
Storage cupboard - full of all sorts of interesting things, but way fewer dead animals than I’d been expecting. More ugly green fencing? Yep! Dried up green gloss paint? Yep! A washing machine I couldn’t use because of a lack of electricity? Yep! What more could a girl want?
Upstairs bathroom - fully functional! Pipes for hot water, a shower tray AND a sink - living the dream. (But very ugly, according to Loly.)
Upstairs kitchen - antique cooker with a non-functioning oven (but a functioning hob!) hundreds more antique plates, pots and pans, ugly tiles, an almost-rusted-through sink and a pestle and mortar complete with woodworm that crawled out and died when hot water was poured on it (sorry for the nightmares about that one Rose...) Oh, and no hot water pipes.
First upstairs bedroom - 2 single beds and a view to die for. To turn the light on and off, however, you have to go into upstairs bedroom 2.
Second upstairs bedroom - 2 single beds, a wardrobe, the light switch for bedroom 1, and a wall that doesn’t actually go all the way up to the ceiling. Because who needs privacy in a bedroom, right?
Upstairs corridor/hall/passage - bizarre, narrowing walkway leading nowhere which I’m still figuring out the purpose of.
Garden - huge. With an almost dead mango tree and a lot of other dead things, plastic, old clothes and various other bits of crap. A great big fluffy plant that Not-My-Cat loves attacking, breeze block garden walls and even more exceptionally uneven outdoor steps between the upstairs and downstairs. But with an outdoor brick oven...
Outdoor brick oven - possibly a strong reason I bought the house. (Guys of COURSE it’s a good idea, it has pizza oven! Yes, of course I know what I’m doing!) 6 months later and I still haven’t used the pizza oven. Finding a load of half-incinerated clothes doesn’t inspire culinary creativity.
Roof - inaccessible. But with great drainage, right? The pipe leads down from the roof, hangs over a dead tree and dumps excess water in the garden. Clever.
Now, you may be looking at these pictures and thinking that I must’ve been absolutely insane. And honestly, you may be right - I’m blaming lockdown madness. However, think of the POTENTIAL.
Every time anybody comes round, sees pictures, or asks what on earth I was thinking while they’re staring at the plaster coming off in chunks, the green gloss painted rocks, the avocado green sink with the gold tiles, I just say, POTENTIAL.
And it’s true. It’s in an amazing place with stunning views, far enough away from the village to be quiet but close enough to walk in just a few minutes.
POTENTIAL. The potential to be somewhere I can really put my own stamp onto, somewhere I can design on my own and turn into a place of my dreams. Aaaand the potential to be an unliveable nightmare that has me weeping into my pillow every night.
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