So, we shared our love story of finding our land in our previous post. Now, let’s dive into the not-so-romantic journey of actually buying our Sardinian haven. Brace yourself for a tale that’s slightly less lovey-dovey.
Our quest led us to an enchanting 8 hectares piece of land with a charming old Stazzu, but real estate agencies weren’t exactly motivated to sell these hidden gems. No worries, we took matters into our own hands and dived headfirst into the world of solo property scouting. Armed with a Google pin, we became modern-day explorers, surveying the land at all hours like property detectives.
The land looked like it had been in hibernation, while the house played host to an Italian tenant. She had the sweet deal of staying in the house until the property changed hands, giving her a three-month heads-up to find a new home. After countless land strolls and discreet peeks into the house, we decided we were ready to seal the deal. We made an offer, and boom! Within an hour, the owner responded, and just 10 minutes later, we were in agreement on the price. Smooth sailing, right? Little did we know, this was just the beginning of our rollercoaster ride through the Italian property-buying circus.
Step 1: Signing the proposta – a reservation order stating the agreed-upon price. Our real estate agent told us that paying a small deposit of 1000 euros for this was standard practice. In the following period we could do all necessary searches to ascertain that the property didn’t have any debts, mortgages, claims etc. If we changed our minds within 30 days, we’d only lose a 1000 euros. Seemed fair enough, or so we thought.
As we were toasting to our newly signed proposta, dreams of a fairytale life on our land started to dance in our heads. Then, a friend dropped the following question: “Doesn’t it also cost the owner just a small fee to back out?” Hold up, what? Suddenly, the possibility of the owner ditching us for a higher bidder felt a possible scenario. We tried to shrug it off, coming up with a laundry list of reasons why it could never happen. But in the following weeks, the “what if” butterflies had a persistent presence in our stomachs.
So, for the next 30 days, we were on a research marathon, diving into whether our land could accommodate our plans. This involved envisioning a new house, a workshop and plotting spaces for future guests. We were introduced to the concept of the geometra, the oracle of all things land-related in Italy.
Our real estate agent pointed us to a local geometra, let’s call him Angelo for now. We had a joint expedition to the land, and Angelo walked with us, soaking in the charm that stole our hearts. Picture this: the field at the back – prime real estate for a new house. The temptation to build a hotel with 20 rooms and a pool was real. I mean, why not? Angelo, with his vast experience and countless permissions under his belt in our community, fueled our dreams.
Yet, despite Angelo singing our tune, his presence and work arrangement started to raise some significant doubts. Thankfully, good friends led us to another geometra, our savior – Antonio. A breath of fresh air, Antonio effortlessly decoded all the rules. A hotel was a no-go (not that we were set on it anyway), but he painted a picture of our possibilities and the feasible route to reach them. What a relief!
After a few meetings, our confidence in embarking on this adventure was solid, marking the cue for the next phase.
Step 2: the compromesso – a preliminary contract armed with all the nitty-gritty details. Hoorah! We triumphed through the initial 30 days. The compromesso emerged just in time, and we scrambled to decipher (translate) the document. This time, a minimum of 10% of the purchase price was on the line. No backing out unless a valid legal excuse; our deposit served as the guarantee. On the flip side, if the seller bailed, he’d be refunding our deposit. We even got the green light to go all Italian-court drama for double the deposit. Picture us sleeping like babies after sealing this deal! In the details, we also pinned down the date for the last step – the official transfer in the presence of the public notary.
Remember the tenant with three months to find a new place after we signed the proposta? Well, she turned into the next source of our anxiety. As we eagerly awaited the notary date, we spent delightful mornings cleaning the forest and crafting paths. In the meantime, our interactions with the tenant exposed a more troubling aspect of the scenario. She was dramatic, occasionally seemed manipulative and psychotic, and had turned the house into what felt like a dumpster in the backyard. Stepping inside the house unleashed a penetrating smell of her 10 cats and dog.
Despite having a contract and a notary date, the closer we got to the big day, the fewer signs we saw of the tenant leaving the premises. We raised the issue with the seller, who assured us everything would be fine. So, we entered the day of signing the real deal at the notary with high spirits. Meeting the seller, a kind man selling the house that had been in his family for generations, felt like a special moment. We left with keys in hand, ready to embrace our new home, only to find… still no sign of the tenant’s departure. Wait, what?
What followed was a whirlwind of confusion, frustrating phone calls in Italian (while we were still grappling with casual weather talk), and a sense of helplessness. The root cause? A miscommunication between the tenant and the seller, a revelation that surfaced only at the official handover, catching us off guard. For newcomers in a foreign land, it’s unsettling, always fearing you might have overlooked some crucial rule and could end up with an unexpected surprise. Adding to the chaos, the seller ended up in the hospital a day after the final contract signing, further complicating matters.
We contemplated involving the carabinieri and police, facing a period that felt like a series of nightmares. In the end, it took two more weeks of nail-biting patience before the tenant finally moved out. She left behind not only a noxious stench but also heaps of rubbish. Thankfully, the seller, in a gesture of goodwill, repainted the entire house interior, saving us days of work and breathing new life into the space after a thorough scrub and bleach session.
Our land and house extended their healing embrace shortly after this period of uncertainty and stressful encounters. The granite rocks beneath our feet grounded us instantly, while the lush trees and vibrant vegetation offered a refreshing new beginning. Over time, we’ve developed a warm friendship with the seller, paying each other regular visits and uncovering hidden gems in the surroundings together. Every now and then, we cross paths with the geometra Angelo, who, determined to ignore us, refrains from offering even a hint of a smile. As for the tenant? Spotting her in a ramshackle van, leaving a not-so-positive trail (sometimes literally with oil leaking), triggers a knowing look between us, a shared smile, and an overwhelming sense of relief that this challenging chapter is behind us. Onward to new adventures and endeavors!
