Every stage of househunting in Norwich

Now that we’ve settled into second term, it’s peak househunting time.

Sorting who you’re going to live with was the first hurdle. Considering you may have only been at uni for three months, you’re being asked to sift through the dirty-dish-leavers, the long-shower-takers and the last-bit-of-milk stealers to find a bunch you kind of like.

Hopefully you’ve come through this process without causing irreversible bitterness for the remaining five months you’ve got to stay with the current lot.

Pressing rubbish down further won’t make it disappear

The second hurdle is setting standards for the house. Bed sizes, bike space and kitchen cleanliness must all be taken into account.

Location is also key. It’s likely you’ll be searching within Norwich’s very own student Hamptons: the Golden Triangle. Interestingly the Golden Triangle is also a region of South-East Asia named by the Independent as “the centre of the worlds drug-trafficking” with illegal drugs trade in the area worth an estimated £16.3 billion. Don’t buy a house there.

Back to our very own Notting Hill of Norwich: the Golden Triangle was named by estate agents for its shape, and for the golden prices they could charge for properties in this highly sought after area. Whether golden is the right way to describe the mostly shabby-fronted and cramped-looking terraces which populate the area we’ll leave for you to decide.

So you get your act together and book a few viewings. The Union’s own selection of houses will likely disappoint, forcing you to turn to expensive letting agencies with scary forms and fees, overwhelming you with terms and responsibilities that are far too adult for you to process.

Guarantors, utilities, implied terms – enough jargon to make a grown man cry

Arriving at the first property full of high hopes that the housing gods have bestowed upon you your very own student palace, you’ll likely be extremely disappointed. The paint is peeling, the rooms are dingy and the source of the stains covering the majority of the bathroom are definitely best left undiscovered.

The agent puts on a brave face but it couldn’t be more obvious that he’d rather do the Everest-sized mountain of crusty washing up using only his tongue than live in this house for a year. But it’s only your first viewing and you haven’t yet learnt the brutality required of an efficient house hunter, so you nod along eagerly as he talks you through the contract terms.

A week of viewings drags on and you’re really not having any luck, perhaps you set your standards too high? You found the perfect house but the agent gets a call mid-viewing to tell them the house has just been taken.

Every group you see out househunting are potential enemies, with looks to kill exchanged on every doorstep encounter with rival challengers. Viewings now are-in and-out jobs: no more small talk with the agent and if you walk in on the house’s current tenants sleeping, or worse, tough for them.

The pressure is on andhouses are flying off the metaphorical shelves like Ben & Jerry’s on a 2-4-1. It’s likely at this point you’ll settle for second best. The bedrooms are decent, the kitchen acceptable and, most importantly, you could stumble back from Prince of Wales road if need be.

As house hunting season draws to a close, plaid-laden estate agents breathe a sigh of relief, their exhaustion dampened somewhat by the thousands of pounds they’ve just made on extortionate fees.

The joys of househunting in Norwich no longer alien to you – your contracts are signed and your deposit is paid. Now is the time to relax and crank up the heating – a luxury which in eight months time you’ll no longer be able to enjoy.

You can officially breathe a sigh of relief. Until this time next year, that is.