What, you NEEDED that money?
After the crushing disappointment of the house I wanted to buy not being a house, it was time to decide just how much I wanted to live in La Gomera. Another house I’d seen was a close second place, and after a lot of soul-searching I put in an offer. The wait was nail-bitingly tense – it was owned by 7 brothers and sisters, all of whom had to agree on the offer I’d put in. After the usual back and forth, we agreed on a price and it was, once again, all systems go!
I didn’t remember the place brilliantly, but I was pretty sure I remembered it well enough. I knew it had a great view, I knew it had a fair bit of space, and most of all I remembered the amazingly cute kitten who came to say hello while I was viewing the place. The estate agents I was using were fantastic – they didn’t live on La Gomera, but that didn’t stop them sending a floor plan over so I could start to make my plans for the house.
After literally weeks of paperwork and begging for things to be signed and people to be in touch and the near-impossibility of arranging for all 7 brother and sisters to be in the same notary’s office as me on the same day, not to mention the difficulty of getting to Tenerife mid-pandemic, it was TIME.
I figured that I’d take as much with me as possible so, 4 suitcases and waaaay too much hand luggage later, I boarded the plane. I was hiring a car at the other end, and I definitely did not count on the downhill/uphill/across multiple carpark push to get to the car hire place. I also didn’t count on the difficulty of hiring a car without a license (thanks to Gertrude, the license was waiting for me at the police station in Gomera) so that was a whole ordeal in itself. But hey. I had photocopies, a great sob story and a very sympathetic rental place, who only charged me an extra couple of hundred for the privilege.
Now, as I lived in England and was buying in Spain, I was using Transferwise to send over my deposit money. They have the best exchange rates and I’d never had any problems with them. Until, of course, the ONE day I really, really needed everything to go smoothly. To this day I’m not entirely sure how it happened, but they lost my deposit money mid-wire. ALL OF IT. The night before the signing I was absolutely tearing my hair out. I’d spoken to every representative on earth who’d told me they were ‘looking into it,’ had stressed phone calls with everybody I knew trying to figure out how to borrow an obscene amount of cash in a very short time, and locked myself out of my Air B+B and had to climb through the window in my panic.
In the end, I decided there was nothing I could do but go to bed. And hope. The next morning, still nothing. If I didn’t have the cash I’d have to rearrange, and the arras (contract to buy) expired that day, so I was seriously in trouble. Hopes, prayers, and a whole lot of screaming later, and the money hit my account an hour before I signed. Talk about ridiculous.
The whole process itself was basically just huge amounts of paperwork. After a good 2 hours of signing various things (seriously who knew what by the end of all that) I sat down with the family who had sold me the house, and it was super emotional. It had been their mum’s house and they’d all got so many memories of the place, and they were so excited to think of it being sold to somebody who wanted to do it up to live there rather than just a holiday rental. It was a real delight to meet then, but all too soon they were gone.
I’d been joined by a friend of a friend who was there to help translate, who I’d never met before – celebrating with a coffee with him after just buying my first house was hands down one of the most surreal experiences I’ve had in a while. Aaaand then it was time to go! I headed for the ferry, then realised that with all my copious amounts of planning, I hadn’t got a clue what I’d do when I’d signed the papers and got to the island. But hey – what’s the worst that could happen?
Donate a coffee, lemon tree, treats for Not My Cat...