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Community: Real Life

Househunting blues

Ben, 24, is Australian and currently drinking in London. Plans of backpacking around Europe were put on hold when he went to Edinburgh and drank away his savings. He moved to London to earn some money, further his education of hangovers and mix with the other 4.5 million Australians here. He is currently staying in London until a) he wins the lottery, b) they kick him out or c) his liver fails.

Ben Pole has been through hell trying to get a decent roof over his head. Why are the flats he's seen so shitty? Why do they think they can charge sky-high rents for shoe boxes?

I went looking for a flat and found only frustration (and a nice little place in Wandsworth).

Firstly, I do not want to say that real estate agents are shafters, but, well they are. It is expensive enough finding a flat to rent in London without having these guys slapping on 70 quid for this and 40 for that. Why do I have to pay 25 quid for a credit check? You're the one who wants it. I know my credit rating sucks, the last thing I need is to pay 25 pounds for a piece of paper that states I do not have 25 pounds to spare. So I felt it best to dismiss these prostitutes of property, as tempting as their slick manor and seductive smiles may have been.

Secondly, I do not want to say that landlords are compulsive liars, but, well they are. Only these guys can attach the words modern and newly renovated to pre war gas cookers and brown second hand shag pile in the hallway. As for that lady out in Streatham, candles can no longer be deemed romantic when they are the only source of lighting or heat in the room.

These landlords are so deep in their deceit that I do not think they even notice the smell when they walk into the rooms. They will smile and tell you that you can hardly hear the strip bar next door at night, the floor boards aren't rotten they're rustic, live wires are only dangerous if you touch them and the ceiling only looks like asbestos. Though I recognise the attractiveness of carcinogenic roofing, I am not prepared to pay 800 pounds a month for it.

"I went looking for a flat and found only frustration"

So there I was, at the point of considering homelessness or moving in with my parents (no contest, I already had a bus shelter picked out), when an unassuming saviour came to restore my faith in the property industry and human graciousness in general. Like a bearded, overweight, Pakistani angel, Mr Eshlam offered me a nice flat at a good price with no bollocks.

My advice to anyone still reading (thanks Mum), is if you need a new residence on a small budget within the next year or so, try the number 12 bus stop on Balham High Street. Just remember the spray paint is not graffiti, it's 'decor'.

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