CiF of the day

So what starts out as The G telling us all how appalling private rentals are (using the experience of a post-grad student who in no historical circumstances whatsoever would have got council housing) turns into, in the comments, a \”You what?\”.

Quite fun actually.

Mature students struggle to find suitable, affordable accommodation – the choice is either share with younger party people or rent a flat with someone your own age. It\’s just that people my age don\’t usually rent – they own, and lodgers who wish to occupy a flat over summer and even Christmas holidays are undesirable (I was denied a room for the latter reason on more than one occasion).

Eh?

I moved to London for 10 months (about the time span of a post-grad course, no?) when I was 45. Took a week of sofa surfing to find it, yes, but I did find a room in a two bed flat at a reasonable rent and 15 minutes (OK, maybe 20) walk from the office in Westminster.

The whole piece is more of a whinge than anything else.

5 comments on “CiF of the day

  1. It’s basically a “there isn’t enough housing to make it cheap and luxurious” whinge. The problem is that whenever anyone proposes to build more housing the same people moan that the developers are building “luxury” flats which can’t be afforded by anyone or that the country is already completely paved over.

  2. “.. a post-grad student who in no historical circumstances whatsoever would have got council housing”: naive. You clearly have no idea how corrupt the allocation of council housing could be.

  3. Abolish planning laws, the Green Belt, restrictions on the employment of foreign builders from anywhere, council housing, and rent support. Private rental accommodation will become cheaper, better, and more readily available

  4. 10 months (about the time span of a post-grad course, no?)

    For a taught MA or something? sure.

    In my postgraduate years, I lived in the whole array of housing: room in university accommodation (clean + functional, but with rowdy undergraduate neighbours), room in shared house (landlord was a student whose Mummy and Daddy bought him a house to live in), various lodgings: (#1: old lady who seemed pleasant at first meeting, but soon started referring to the Waffen SS as “a fine body of men” and playing German folk music late at night. I lasted a week. #2: pleasant young couple with two toddlers and a spare room. They were apprehensive about having a stranger in their house, but needed the cash. We still exchange Christmas cards. #3: Chaotic family. Dad an amiable bumbling idiot, Mum a drunk. I did my own thing and they watched in bemusement.), and finally a rented 1-bed flat the size of half a shoebox shared with my new wife, with saggy floors (there was nowhere in the flat where all 4 legs of a small table would touch the floor simultaneously).

    Sounds like this guy just can’t budget.

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