Eight years ago, in an office in Spain, I signed a piece of paper to agree to buy an apartment. At the time I didn’t have a clue whether we would be able to afford it, find the deposit, or get a mortgage. I figured that if I couldn’t manage it, there was not much they could do. Luckily a nice bank here in Spain gave us a large mortgage, so all is well. We’ll be paying for a long time, but that’s life I guess.
But the trauma of a few weeks ago, which you can read all about in my post, Devastated doesn’t begin to cover it, is largely behind us.
We were two days away from moving house with most of our house in boxes, all ready to go. So we shut the front door and got on a plane to Spain. When we got here the weight of the events of the previous few days started to lift from my shoulders. We were able to come back to our home here in Spain and get on with life, with our UK home relegated to the back of our minds. We walked in the front door and got on with our life, nothing is in boxes here. We are very lucky to have this place.
But now we seem to be back on track!
Not wishing to push my luck, our buyer has found a new buyer and is buying our house again, and so we can buy the house we wanted. But contracts have NOT been exchanged, yet. The moving date is further away, but we are being ‘quietly confident’. So fingers crossed!