Almost 2 months ago, I resigned from my job in order to move 450 miles north to Scotland. A reasonable person might have assumed we’d be a quite a significant way through selling our house, that we’d have put a bid in for our dream house, or that we’d be surrounded by our worldly possessions in boxes.
Sadly, the UK lockdown has prevented all of this from happening and we have made next to no progress. This week continued to be complicated albeit in a slightly different way – it’s now possible to sell our house in England, but the housing market in Scotland has yet to re-start. It’s kind of irrelevant anyway as it appears as though our original estate agent has furloughed their entire staff. I’m hoping they’ll be back soon as we really liked them!
There are a few houses in Scotland still on Rightmove to consider but you do have to ask yourself why they’ve been on for a long time (one in particular looks like it was the site of a couple of gruesome murders). I have found one spectacular Gothic mansion but it’s way above our budget – we might still put in a stupidly low bid but it’s doubtful they’ll accept.
We’ve accepted that we’re going to have to rent for a bit which neither Husband nor I have ever done before so that’ll be the next task to figure out. There does seem to be plenty of apartments around, but I’m not entirely sure if we’re allowed to move into them. It’s all so very confusing but I’m hoping for some clarity from Nichola Sturgeon this week.
On the plus side, the household waste recycling centres are now open, which is lucky as we don’t want to take very much with us.
And my local Starbucks has re-opened, so when it all gets too much, I can queue for an hour to get a frappuchino. Yes, it is worth it.