Friday, May 06, 2005

Getting closer? Maybe

In common with just about every diarist and letter writer I start with an apology for the tardiness of my latest missive. The reason this time is that although most of Barbara and my thoughts are focused on getting the house, we can’t admit it. We have to maintain this pose that says we’re not thinking about the house so we won’t be disappointed if it doesn’t happen.

Actually, the fact that we now probably have a fallback position means we won’t be horribly disappointed if it all does fall apart this evening. We’ll just stay on where we are which, if nothing else, will be much easier than having to scrabble around for money, chase mortgages and so on. If we don’t get the house, the difficulties will arise later.

We’d already decided that we wouldn’t look for anything over the summer. People are too busy and there are people visiting the island who may be persuaded to part with silly money when in holiday mood. But in the autumn our sights will be set much higher and we’ll be disappointed by places that don’t match up to the house we’re after now.

The other reason we’ve been trying to talk as little as possible about our potential home is that the decision’s largely out of our hands. That does not, however, mean there are no silly nagging doubts. For instance, what do we wear for this evening’s meeting? In Scotland it would be easy for me. Lawyer equals suit. Here, not only do I not possess a suit, but wearing one could be counter-productive. The seller could try to push the price up on the basis that we look as if we could afford it. On the other hand, we don’t want to seem disrespectful. Barbara will tell me that these are problems women have to face all the time.

Anyway, in three hours we should know the worst, or best…


It’s good to see the world’s two biggest car-hire companies Avis and Hertz involved in a marketing competition which I hope will spread. In the United States in particular both are promoting their ability to provide cars with adaptations so that anybody can drive.

Of course, the Americans with Disabilities Act provides a strong stick to hit organisations with that discriminate against people by not making their services accessible. But there’s an equally powerful carrot in the form of the spending power of people with impairments. As the population ages this is represents a fast-growing market.

The services now offered free by Avis include:

  • Transfer Board: Eases the driver or passenger from their wheelchairs into the car seat.

  • Swivel Seat: Allows the driver or passenger to turn their bodies in the car seat with limited effort. The seat can easily be removed from underneath the person.

  • Spinner Knob: Enables a full turning radius of the steering wheel while using only one hand.

  • Panoramic Mirror: Provides a much larger field of view for any driver, and is a legal requirement in the USA for hearing-impaired drivers.

  • Accessible Bus Service: Offers an electrically operated ramp or lift, two ADA compliant wheelchair positions, special aisles and low luggage racks.

  • Additional Driver Fee Waiver: Customers with visual impairment can rent an Avis car without incurring any additional driver fees for their designated driver (All drivers must meet Avis' standard licensed driver requirements).

Obviously you should make requests for these services and adaptations as far in advance as possible. Avis and Hertz both have websites with full contact details.


Today I should have definite news about where we’re going to be living at the end of this month, but I don’t. Yesterday’s meeting with the lawyer was neither good nor bad, but it certainly didn’t go according to plan. Actually, if events so far have often made us feel as if we were living a reality television programme, yesterday was closer to a soap opera. You know the sort of thing, people turn up conveniently and unexpectedly in order for the plot to unfold.

The latest episode began at 6pm. Unusually for me, I was actually ready in time to get to the lawyers early. So after a quick once round the block, looking in estate agents’ windows to assure ourselves we were getting a bargain, we walked up the steep stairs to the lawyer’s office.

Our first surprise was to see the woman who had negotiated the property deal for us sitting in the waiting area. We hadn’t asked her to come, but assumed she’d turned up to help the deal go through. But no, she was there to see her lawyer before appearing in court the following day. She’d had a car accident last year and, she told us, assumed her ex-husband had insurance.

Her presence was pure coincidence. But she did have some gossip for us. The guy who is currently living in our intended house was involved in a deal to buy a hotel which apparently went disastrously wrong. After he’d had a few drinks, she told us, he had visited the hotel and started shouting the odds in the reception. Later that evening he had been badly beaten up. Fortunately, that had nothing to do with our house, although one could only feel sorry for the guy. It’s a full story which I probably don’t want to know.

Eventually our lawyer called us into the boardroom. There was no sign of the seller, which gave us a few minutes to ask questions and get answers in ponderous legalese. Sometimes I get the feeling that what defines a “professional” is the ability to respond to any question without giving a definitive reply. After a few of these carefully hedged answers he went to see if maybe the seller had got lost. Certainly, all I’d been able to see through a crack in the door was a youngish guy in a tee shirt going into the reception area, no old “Ibicencan” as the seller had been described.

A few minutes later we found out that the “old” guy was no more than 35. He was the chubby guy I’d seen outside wearing a “Dissident” tee shirt. (No I don’t think that had any significance.) From the moment he came into the boardroom the seller studiously avoided looking either Barbara or I in the eye, talking only to our lawyer in Spanish. Although this made it hard for us to follow it was obvious that he was unhappy with the amount of tax he would have to pay on the deal. As I’ve said in previous blogs, this was largely a problem of his own making. The tax authorities would almost certainly smell a rat if the amount he was declaring he had sold the property for was considerably less than the mortgage.

During this discussion our negotiator put her head in to see if things were going okay. She came in. Fortunately, she was able to explain the taxation problems more simply to the seller. (We learned from her later that although he had developed a number of properties, this was his first sale.) He seemed surprised that the detail of his mortgage was on display to us the public and, of course, the tax authorities. It also transpired that his plan to conclude the sale next year was pointless because he’d already sold the property to a company he’d set up for the purpose. This is a common technique in Spain to reduce liabilities, but obviously needs to be done with professional advice.

The lesson in taxation for our seller lasted about an hour while our lawyer explained the problem in detail and the negotiator simplified it. All we could do was watch. There simply wasn’t room to negotiate and anyway this wasn’t supposed to be a negotiating meeting. Everything was supposed to be agreed. Now we could see the deal ebbing away. I wasn’t totally despondent, however, because the seller had brought some of the missing papers which our lawyer had requested and he was happy to have them taken away and copied.

After the seller had left our negotiator stayed to discuss possible outcomes. She comforted us by saying that buying property is always like this in Ibiza. Our lawyer didn’t seem convinced.

But, once again, all we can do is wait.

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