Tag: for sale

Another one

Posted on

One of the spin-offs of religion dying out in the UK (and in a lot of other places too) is fewer muppets. And that’s great.

But another spin-off is old, no longer required church buildings being converted into residential accommodation.

Like this one from a few weeks ago.

And this one, which I saw today.

Looks like a church. Was a church. Now a house. With a Tower Bar.

It’s what Jesus would have wanted.

Again, there is the modern interior design, sitting somewhat incongruously within the original church walls:

And the windows that are just too big for the bedrooms:

Says the blurb:

The best feature of the entire property has to be the glass walkway with glass flooring looking down over the living room providing access to the mezzanine area which is currently setup as a spectacular cinema room with 8 electric leather reclining chairs and a projector screen that comes down over the stained glass window making this a very special place to watch tv or movies.

And they’re not wrong. It does look a bit wow:

R27 million in today’s local money. Which seems like a lot (because it is), but you do get a whole church and “a stunning Victorian orangery with rainwater storage and paved flooring which makes this a special place to relax and unwind.”

Fair point. I can never truly be at peace in an orangery that doesn’t have rainwater storage and paved flooring.

This beautiful church is also only about an hour’s drive from Beautiful Downtown Bramall Lane, where Sheffield United relegated Sheffield Wednesday to League One yesterday afternoon.

Glorious.

Day 690 – Upton Crescent, Nursling

Posted on

No. I’d never heard of Nursling, either. It turns out that it’s just on the northern fringes of Southampton in the UK. And I found it via this – clearly spoof – ad that I saw on twitter:

£350,000 is R7.2m today [weeps in exchange rate realisation], and that does seem like a lot for a bungalow in Hampshire just next door to the M27 motorway. (ALTHOUGH: VERY HANDY FOR THE LOCAL GOLF CLUB!) But I think we need to immediately address the elephant in the room pylon in the garden here. Noting that, yes, the photo above does seem to suggest that this one comes with a big metal structure right in the front garden. That cannot be right, right?

Wrong. It can be right. I used a nifty and little-known software application program to visualise Upton Close, Nursling… And I found this:

…power lines (and associated pylons) running right through Upton Crescent.
(They’re not actually red. I drew them using MS Paint.)

And incredibly, it looks like they built the house AFTER the pylon: look how it’s set back from the road to allow its big metal friend to sit in the front garden:

“We’ll not be able to put one here, Bob – there’s a pylon right on site. What? Move it 60ft backwards, you say? Yeah. Yeah., I suppose we can do that.”

Amazing. I think (hope) that’s just the sun at the top there, rather than some deadly power surge heading towards Southampton.

But number 59 is not the only Upton Crescent house with a pylon in the garden. Here’s 23A – and they’ve cleverly hidden their pylon behind some lovely Vibracrete:

(It’s just towards the left there, in case you were struggling.)

I know. You’d never have noticed if I hadn’t have told you.

This collision of suburbia and infrastructure is unfortunate, but there’s little or no good evidence to suggest that living underneath power lines is in any way dangerous. I think it’s reasonable to suggest that it’s somewhat unsightly though. So yes, unfortunate and unsightly, but maybe unnecessary might be the key word here. Was there really any good reason for those power lines to take that route over Upton Crescent? Or for Upton Crescent to take that route underneath those power lines?

I’d wager that the reason was money. Just a hunch.

And talking of the old filthy lucre, how much would number 59 be on sale for without its pylon?

More, surely?

Well, maybe. But selling houses is all about matching the right buyer with the right property. Find a National Grid enthusiast and show him (because it will be a him) around the place on a deliciously grey Saturday morning, with the mist rolling in off the meadows and the only sound the noise of the motorway at the end of the garden faint crackle of high voltage discharge into the fresh, moist Hampshire air from (only just) overhead, and you might even manage to squeeze out £375,000 for this sort of (almost) unique feature.