I don’t know what is happening with the Edinburgh property market. We are a few weeks away from a general election (yawn) and teetering on the brink of uncertainty as we break away from the EU.
Right now people should be staying at home with eyes closed, hands over ears and singing “lalalalala” hoping that it is all just a bad dream. A bit like that one Bobby Ewing had in Dallas, but with no shoulder pads or oil barons.
Anyway, a friend who lives abroad decided to sell her little one-bedroomed flat in the centre of town. My daughter and I wandered along to do the first viewing last week and there was already someone waiting at the door. This wasn’t really what we had expected – in fact, she had brought a school book along so she could do some studying during this quiet time in the flat.
For the next two hours there was a constant stream of people. The same happened on Sunday and by the middle of this week there were six notes of interest and the lawyer talking about setting a closing date a fortnight after it hit the market.
As far as I could make out none of these people were having to wrangle with a bank about setting up a mortgage and virtually all were hoping to add this bijou gaff to their ‘property portfolio’.
Some of them looked as though they might get asked for ID when buying a bottle of booze. Where on earth have they all come from is what I want to know.
A developer I know, Stuart Peters of Dunedin House Properties, is in the process of developing a couple of town houses in Drumseugh Gardens back to residential use.
He tells me that, despite there being nothing to show apart from the plans on paper, he is being inundated with potential buyers willing to pay over the odds.
Anyway, it’s all out of my league and more worryingly I hope my daughter manages to make up those two hours of swotting.