Sven's life in Oz

Since this is a ‘guide’ to Oz, I should really think about imparting information rather than simply bimbling on about jetlag and sunshine.  Here then is the first proper instructive entry on something uniquely antipodean: the madcap world of the Sydney rental market.

How to rent a flat in Sydney

1.  Stop calling it a flat.
In Australia they are sometimes referred to as ‘apartments’, but most people just call them ‘units’.  ‘Flat’ isn’t a particularly glamorous term, but ‘unit’ is downright ugly, especially in an aussie accent.  Make your peace with it.  This is the least of your worries.

2.  Expect no help.
The Sydney rental market is hard work to the point of absurdity.  The ‘facts’ are these:

• 400,000 immigrants arrive in Australia every year; a large proportion of these come to Sydney
• Less than 1% of rental properties are available at any one time
• The resulting stampede means rental prices are astronomical

In summary: it’s an overpriced, dog-eat-dog clusterfuck.  Because demand reportedly outstrips supply, there is no need for agents to be nice, helpful or instructive in any way.  They’re going to let the property with or without you.  Their fees are paid by the landlords (unlike the UK, where prospective tenants pay the fees when they sign the lease) so their loyalty is not to the homeless, unworthy peasant who stumbled through the door looking for somewhere to live.  They will not spend time looking for properties for you: you have to do all the work yourself.  Charge up your laptop and start searching.

3.  Hit the internet.
The best places to search for properties are domain.com.au and realestate.com.au – every property worth having is one or both of these two sites.  Domain is the ‘go to’ for most househunters, though both are of a similar standard.  In the absence of any agency support, it must be said that these web sites have everything you need to know about a property, including details of inspections (that’s ‘viewings’ to us Brits).  Cancel all your plans for Saturday and make a list: that 1% still involves a lot of properties.

4.  Inspections are ghastly.
In the UK it’s almost a sport to go and see what properties are like, especially if they’re on your street/beyond your means/in your dreams.  Anyone inspecting properties in Australia for fun will also have an S&M dungeon in their basement.  Firstly, you are at the will of the agent.  They tell you to arrive at 9am: you are there at 9am.  In fact, you are there at 8.50am standing in the rain hoping that the weather will put off other potential tenants because in Australia, inspections are all open.  You don’t get the chance to peruse at your leisure: you and thirty others get fifteen minutes (fifteen minutes!) to poke around and decide if you like it.  We arrived for one inspection (the unit was tiny) and joined a queue that ran down the stairs, along the hall and round the corner.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  Imagine twenty people in a home straight out of Liliput, all trying looking for cracks in the walls/signs of damp/integrated white goods as fast as possible.  Mayhem.

If you decide you like the place, the agent may deign to provide you with an application form, and may even – gasp! – take your number.  That’s right: you don’t get to choose the unit: the owner gets to decide which of the lucky applicants gets to take the place.  James and I didn’t really understand this because item 2 trumps everything, but unit-hunting is a blood sport.  Everyone looking for a 2 bed, 2 bath unit in a central location turns up to the same inspections as you and it becomes very competitive very quickly.   You race to turn up first, queue-jump, impress the agent with wittier banter or more convincing flattery, and covertly watch each other for signs of starry-eyed wonder in a place you want for yourself.  Deals between prospective tenants along the lines of “you take that one, I’ll have this one” are not uncommon.

5.  Even if you think you have it, you probably haven’t.
You’ve found your ideal place, and you’ve put in your application: maybe you think you can start to relax.  Oh, you are destined for homelessness, my friend.  The work is just beginning!  This isn’t a game, you know: this isn’t fun.  Twelve others have applied for your dream home and they all have jobs and a rental history: you need an edge.  By paying one week’s rent in advance you can take a property off the market for 7 days, effectively forcing the agent to take you seriously and check out your application.  At the end of the week, the owner can either approve or reject you, with no explanation for either outcome.  For a couple of brand new, jobless poms with no Australian rental history (oh yes, I forgot to mention that all the agents collude to establish your suitability as a tenant), James and I were not confident of our chances in this meritorious system.  We became quite disheartened after a morning of schlepping all over town and took a couple of hours off to have a nice lunch and a big bottle of wine.

6.  Procrastination is thief of your dream home.
After a Wagamama and nice merlot, we felt fortified enough to face the madness once more and since we were round the corner from one agent, we resolved to go in and give them our application that day.  You can whinge all you want but if you want to stand any chance you have to play by their rules.  Just by chance we passed another agency with a beautiful-looking unit in the window and, with nothing to lose, in we went.  James virtually broke down explaining to the agent how confused we were, and how we had furniture on a boat that would probably arrive before we found a home to put it in, before practically begged him for help.  Brad (no joke, that was his real name) was a diamond.  He explained to us the rules as I have outlined them above and which I am now claiming as my own work, and then kindly offered to take us to see the unit there and then.  So off we went and on the way over he explained how if we liked it, we should not hang around but go to the cash point, get the week’s rent out and get it off the market for a week; property in Sydney waits for no man.  Yes, it was partly sales-spiel, but he did have a point and we did love it, so we took his advice and went for it.  After walking all over Sydney in the rain, a chance wander through Chinatown turned a disappointing morning into a cautiously optimistic afternoon all in the space of an hour.

7.  Be patient
For all their apparent disregard for tenants, agents do seem to work quickly in sorting out the details.  If they have inspections on Saturday, they will be processing applications the following Monday.  They want the deal done and the rent coming in and they are going hell for leather to get it done yesterday.  That said, you’ve still got to wait Saturday night, all of Sunday and most of Monday before you hear from them.  Those forty-eight hours can be the longest of your life, especially for first-timers like James and me.  There are twopossible outcomes:

• Good news: you are in.  The owner likes the cut of your jib and wants to take you.  Pop the champagne, put the flags out and start packing.
• Bad news: you are a loser.  The owner wouldn’t let you their house if you were the last pair of queers on Earth.  Before you sit back down at that computer to start the process all over again, pour yourself a large glass of something strong.  You’re going to need it.

Fingers crossed for the thumbs up; my liver can’t take any more bad news.