WHAT IT’S LIKE TO LOOK FOR A HOME

In Wellington, it can be a tough to find a home at the best of times. Two Dominion Post reporters share their househunting journeys, one who’s searching for a flat and the other on the hunt for her first home.

Searching for a flat – Kate Green

The flat was your typical Wellington student digs – the top floor of a Victorian townhouse in Te Aro. As the only member of the flatting group in Wellington for the summer, I was on solo flat hunt duty.

This was the fifth flat I’d pencilled in to see this week and the first I’d been able to go to – the rest had been rented before the viewings even happened.

I arrived early. The place was already crawling with people. Not only were students keen on it but young professionals, and even some parents.

One mum was surveying the rooms with her phone camera held aloft, mid-call with her daughter.

She swept the camera across the smallest bedroom. ‘‘Yup, that’s it. Wall, bed, wall . . I don’t know, darling; are you sure?’’

The guy next to her was filling in an application form on the spot.

The flat had three bedrooms and one bathroom and sat on the hill overlooking Te Aro.

It had been recently repainted, recarpeted, and had new curtains.

It was a 5-minute walk to the CBD but not luxury by any stretch of the imagination.

For $680 per week in some other parts of the country, you would get luxury.

The front bedroom was undeniably appealing but large double windows and a good city view didn’t make up for the startling lean of the floor in the entranceway.

The kitchen was small, the bathroom even smaller still. You could reach out two arms and touch walls on either side in both rooms.

The living room was really a hallway – a thoroughfare to the bedrooms from the front door.

The landlord was a nice guy, renting privately instead of through an agency.

He said come winter, they’d be looking at providing a heater – and having lived in Wellington flats for five years, this objectively basic offer struck me as very generous.

He seemed as bemused by the state of the rental market as anyone else. ‘‘I don’t think it’s worth any more than I’m charging for it but when you look at the rest of the market . . .’’

And, sadly, he had a point.

Hunting for a first home – Eleanor Wenman

‘‘You know, I wouldn’t mind buying a house with you.’’

And that’s it, that’s how my partner and I decided to buy a house together in Wellington.

We were adults. Sure we’d eaten our fair share of smashed avocado on toast but no more.

It was a simple start, dropping by an old house in Eastbourne for an open home. It had lemon trees and flowers out the front and bees were buzzing around lazily.

The prospective buyers, however, were buzzing frantically.

The real estate agent stood by the door, gazing at everyone milling around trying to find a free spot to take off their shoes before squeezing inside.

My partner took up the pen to sign in.

‘‘We’ve already had three offers today, just so you know,’’ the realtor said, already looking past us at the next person in line.

That is what I think of as my first ‘‘sinking heart’’ moment.

Another was checking RVs for properties online. Searching addresses could bring up a history of how it had changed over the years.

For most places, it would hold steady between 2007 and 2015, rising by $20,000 to $30,000 every two or three years. But between 2015 and 2018, the jumps were big – a $100,000 rise in a house’s value wasn’t uncommon.

Our Sundays looked like a montage. Shoes on, out the door, first open home by 11am. Shoes off, sign our names and contact details (‘‘Is it your turn or mine?’’). Walk around, poke under the house, comment on the repairs needed.

Second house around lunchtime. Third around 2pm. Wellington, Lower Hutt, Johnsonville, Porirua.

At every house, I’d eye up the other viewers. There’d be the couple we’d seen at the previous house. Families with small kids in tow. Others I’d pin as investors and wonder how we could beat their offer.

The biggest ‘‘sinking heart’’ moment struck when we made our first offer. It was rejected, despite being well over RV.

We expected it but it stung. The fruitless running between lawyers, banks, and agents loomed over every offer we considered making.

We’ll keep hunting. We know it can be done but it is a hard slog.