Posted by / Category London /

Lovely Houses In London

In the UK, property porn is a national addiction. For the avoidance of doubt, I am talking about surfing estate agent’s websites, and quietly checking out the value of the house you are renting, or how much your acquaintance paid for their lovely flat (far more that you thought, usually). Can prices in London be really this high? Oh, and look again, they are still climbing! There is also something hugely satisfying in having a peep at other people’s houses. Is it neat and tidy? Is it minimalist? And how is the kitchen? Watch the lovely bar stools…

I am not really addicted to property porn. I just indulge in it once in a while. Say, once a month (OK, maybe twice?). Until yesterday, I thought that it was just a harmless bit of fun. So what happened? To cut a long story short, yesterday I had no electricity from 5pm to 10pm. Yep, a good old power cut. Not in my house only, three or four streets were affected in our area.



Here I was, in a lovely Victorian house in London, completely in the dark. To make matters even worse, the same thing  had happened a year and a half ago. The alarm kept beeping and displaying all sorts of scary messages about faults and intrusions. I was freaking out. Where had I put the candles again? Seriously, who cared about brand new kitchen appliances when you couldn’t find the bloody candles? Whatever the house was worth, at that moment I would have given anything to be in a warm  place with some light. Obviously, hubby was somewhere far on yet another business trip, saving the world from various evils but letting us fend for ourselves at home. Where were men when we needed them? He sent me a text saying that we should all go to a hotel tonight. Very helpful. I thanked him profusely (British understatement).

One of my children was supposed to have a French lesson at home. She kept texting me that there was no power, and that she was scared. There wasn’t much I could do. They had a candle-lit French lesson in the end. As for my other daughter, I had to pick her up from a netball match from school, and of course they were more than half an hour late. And it was cold. I told Boden mum that there was a power cut. She looked at me suspiciously.
“Seriously, in London? Are you sure it’s not your fuses?”
My fuses were perfectly fine, thank you very much. But I thought that her comment was going to make me blow a gasket.
” Well, the whole street is in the dark, Darling. I think that my fuses are OK. Apparently an underground cable was damaged during the construction of yet another basement.”
Boden mum nodded. 
” Building a basement is such a hassle, right?” She must have lost her mind in subterranean London.
It looked like she couldn’t care less about us having to spend the night without any power. I wouldn’t get any help there.

“Mum, why is our street so dark tonight?”
“It is a power cut, Darling”.
We will have some salad and sandwiches tonight, I think.
” But I don’t like salad!” 
Well, too bad.

I will not go on Zoopla ever again. Well, at least not for a few weeks. The alarm kept beeping all night long, and this morning all seems to have gone back to normal, except for the huge bags under my eyes. As for properties in London, such prices are more than ridiculous when I felt so vulnerable for a few hours. What is wrong with this world?





Muriel – A French Yummy Mummy In London
  • We have a friend who owns a flat in a property where the ground floor owner decided to build a basement. It’s been a disaster for her and she had to actually move out for several months as the building became unstable! All because someone wanted an underground swimming pool!