Valencia, here we come for our first property viewing trip. We’d never flown to Valencia before. We always flew to Alicante if we were going to Northern Costa Blanca as there were always more flights, therefore more choice. Valencia flights were few and far between as it was not such a popular destination and the difference was remarkable.
The nature of the flight was so much more relaxed and calm with no rowdy groups on the way to Benidorm or big golfing parties on the way to La Manga. There were tourists on board obviously but mainly couples and quite a few Spanish.
The airport experience was also far more relaxed. We only had carry on bags as we were only there for 3 nights but when we got through passport control and were walking past the carousel our flights’ baggage was just starting to come out. The baggage appeared to have been placed there lovingly by the handlers to protect the contents, rather than thrown on from a great height with complete disregard, which you tend to expect at Alicante.
Then to car hire. No huge queue, dealt with very quickly, politely and efficiently and sent very pleasantly on our way. All in all, from disembarking the plane to driving out of the airport the whole experience was approx 40 stressless minutes. Remarkable. As opposed to Alicante, which has taken us upwards of two and a half infuriating hours.
I said to Deb ‘As we’re so early, shall we check in at the hotel, drop our bags off then head to Spain and Property in Montserrat? We’ve easily got enough time thanks to Valencia airport.’ ‘Great idea,’ she said ‘I could do with freshening up after the journey.’ So off we headed for Hotlel la Carreta.
It was only a 15-20min journey along the A3 and were were soon at the Hotel. ‘ Hi, my name is Deborah Newman and we have a reservation?’ Deb said to the receptionist. Blank look with a shake of the head from the receptionist was the response. She said something in Spanish to a colleague who also shook his head. You don’t have to go far inland to find that the dominant language is their native Spanish. Deb tried again, ‘Buenas dias, como estas?’ ‘Muy bien.’ She replied with a smile. Bingo, we managed hello and how are you, the receptionist was very good, but just not at English. Deb said ‘Soy Deborah Newman y tengo una reaervacion.’ The blank look of the receptionist had returned. Had our basic Spanish not impressed the lady?
As it turned out we didn’t have a reservation with them and they were full due to a race meeting at the adjacent Circuit Ricardo Tormo. The language barrier was proving a major hurdle, as we both only have basic Spanish, and we had resorted to Google translate, hence the understanding of the fact they were full. The reservation paperwork Deb had printed off was our only saving grace and we were requested to wait while they tried to organise something. The staff were brilliant though and couldn’t have been more helpful. They eventually organised us a room, they must have a few spare for such occasions or had a cancelled booking, although we didn’t care which as we now had a room.
What we didn’t have was a meeting with Suzy at Spain and Property. The debacle with the room meant we were still at the Hotel an our and a half after our appointment time and still had to find her offices. We contacted her to explain the situation and asked to re-arrange our viewings, but she had other commitments after our viewing trip which she couldn’t change and she had no other free time during our visit. What a bombshell. Deb was devastated, and a little annoyed to say the least, ‘What a complete waste of bloody time this trip is, we shouldn’t have come to the Hotel first,’ and glared at me, like I had strong armed her into the decision. Perfect 20/20 hindsight. ‘What can I say,’ I said ‘It seemed like common sense at the time as we were so early. Anyway, it is what it is now and we still have Simon from Azahar Properties tomorrow.’ ‘Hopefully,’ she said, daring me to find some way of messing that one up.
Bright and breezy the following day, after a good night’s sleep and a continental breakfast, we hit the road to Montroi to meet Simon. Not at his office but at a petrol station on the outskirts of the town. Sounded dodgy straightaway but he said it was easier than going to his offices. The journey from the hotel was fantastic, open roads, very little traffic, miles of olive, orange and lemon groves covering the undulating countryside on both sides of us and the aroma in the air was wonderful. We had set off early, this time on Debs’ insistance just in case I came up with any other bright ideas that might make us late. We therefore had opportunity to stop a few times to take in the views and they were outstanding. Rolling countryside with individual houses nearby, which were farmhouses, small settlements in the distance and far away mountains to add a little drama. Fantastic.
We found Montroi and the petrol station easily, and on time for a change, where we met Simon Creed. British expat, set up offices in Montroi about 10 years ago and hadn’t looked back. All this before we had even got into his car for the viewing tour. ‘We will be seeing the five properties you requested,’ he said as we pulled out of the petrol station ‘and we’ll start off in Catadau.’ The first property was a 2 storey detached house set on an urbanisation, with a pool a little land but no olive grove. Some neighbours but non overlooking. Lovely elderly English couple desperate to get back to the UK for family issues. Ideal bargaining tool you would think, but no. Being six foot six inches tall I couldn’t stand up straight anywhere in the ground floor, which was mostly bedrooms. To the first floor was a lounge opening up onto a huge balcony with amazing views, which were blighted by a concrete tower directly front and centre off your view. No good. Adios lovely old couple, hope you managed to get back to the UK.
Second was also near Catadau but was empty. Again, detached property but single storey this time, no pool, some nice views, with neighbours but non overlooking. Looking a little tired on the outside but nothing that a bit of DIY can’t fix. Simon opened up, let us in and the smell of nicotine almost made you gasp for air. Apparently the chap who owned it was a chain smoker and had lived the house for years and had never decorated it. That smell was in the fabric of the building and would never be eradicated. The fact that the layout was not to our taste, with bedrooms leading of the lounge which is a common layout, was a minor reason not to look at this house favourably.
Off to Pedralba next. The name put me off straightaway. ‘Pedralba,’ I said to Deb when out of earshot of Simon ‘I don’t know what it is about that name but is sounds somehow, mucky.’ She nodded and ‘I know what you mean.’ In all fairness the small town seemed ok, just blighted with the name, but as we turned off the main road onto a minor road to take us up into up the hills to next property Deb said ‘What is that smell?’ Simon replied ‘I think It’s some stagnant water that tends to gather around this area.’ Not a good start. Then, around the next corner, a concrete wall full of graffiti. Not the kind of views you want on the drive up to your house.
The house itself was on top of a hill with lovely views into the valley, a pleasant garden area with a small pool and land around it creating the privacy. We were greeted by the owners, another elderly English couple who were desperate for a UK return. They were pleasant and the house was ok but didn’t really grab me. ‘What do you think?’ I said to Deb. ‘I can’t put my finger on it but It’s just not right,’ she replied. ‘The layout is sort of what we want but it doesn’t feel like home. Plus you have to drive through the smell and past the graffiti to get to it. No.’ I quite agreed. We wished them luck and moved on to the hills outside Montroy.
The fourth property was accessed through a complicated mix of stone tracks that varied from very rough to nearly impassable and we eventually ended up at a single storey, extended and refurbished animal shed. It would have won no architectural awards as it was more function than form but I liked the look of it straightaway. It was positioned on a hill with fantastic views into the valley. Couple of neighbours close by, who seemed to have some very nice saloon cars. I looked around for the helicopter pad that brought them up as they certainly hadn’t driven up that road. I mentioned this to Simon. ‘I brought you via the scenic route,’ he replied ‘there is an alternative which isn’t as bad.’ ‘Can we go back the non-scenic please?’ I said, ‘My back can’t stand the return journey,’ This one was empty so we took our time looking round and absolutely loved it. The layout was quirky but perfect with an open plan living/dining/kitchen, doors opening up on to the South facing patio with views across the valley and the views were outstanding. There were 3 good sized bedrooms accessed from a corridor off the living area, one with an en-suite, and a large family bathroom. The house had a flat concrete roof and the whole of the roof was a first floor balcony. Wow! Location was secluded but not isolated, it had a pool and approx 3000sq m of land. It was a lovely warm day in a fantastic location and feelings were running away with us. ‘It’s perfect.’ said Deb. ‘I agree.’ I replied.
We left reluctantly and Simon showed us the fifth and final property, which I no longer remember as my thoughts were completely taken over by the refurbished animal shed. Needless to say the fifth prperty wasn’t a consideration.
Simon dropped us back at our car and we said our thanks and goodbyes. He had been a great host for the last 3 hours and passed on interesting points to consider if purchasing in that area. He also mentioned that he didn’t charge the purchaser a commission. ‘ What? You mean some do?’ I had asked him. ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘It’s the way the Spanish agents work. They charge both the buyer and seller commission.’ Well that wouldn’t be happening with us.
An interesting evening ahead then with much to discuss about the day just gone and what to do with the free day ahead.
Moving to Spain? Help! 