The Landlady: Tenants Super
During multiple visits to my new house in Turkey, I have made friends with a guy who owns a couple of nice bars on the seafront. I have spent many an evening leaping up and down on the dance floor of one of the bars with his cronies, until the wee hours. As well as the bars, this guy also has an estate agency, so I’ve asked him to let out my house over the summer while I’m not there. I am ‘not allowed’ to go to Turkey until September, because the Small Daughter has grounded me over the summer, so it seems like a good arrangement.
I don’t really care if I make decent money out of the property, I just like the idea of a bit of beer money in hand for the next time I go. Frankly, I’ve been ripped off so much over the years that I find being bothered about money equates to nothing but a whole heap of stress.
Along with my vocal decision to rent out came much well-meaning advice from friends and acquaintances, telling me to ask for much more money, put in air conditioning, have a timer switch on said air conditioning so that people don’t leave it on day and night, etc, etc.
I have done none of the above, and on my last night in Turkey, I left the keys with my estate agent friend as I leapt up and down to Kanye West on the dance floor of one of his clubs.
To be honest, although I’ve left the property in pristine rental condition, I doubt that even Satan himself could bear the heat in the bedroom during the scorching summer months. It was only just about bearable when we were there at the end of June, so it’s unlikely that there is much rental potential there during July and August.
“I doubt that even Satan himself could bear the heat during the scorching summer months”
Meanwhile, back at Landlady Towers, I’ve decided to upgrade my guest bedrooms in order to get a better class of lodger, rather than the selection of 16-year-old teenage slugs that I’ve been putting up with for the past few years. The only trouble is that my house is bursting at the seams with foreign students at the moment, and I can’t get into the bedrooms in order to start my renovation work. Instead, I’m slowly accumulating a heap of classy furniture and fittings in the corner of my own bedroom, ready for a swift turnaround at the end of this month. The only possible fly in the ointment is that a very old friend from my London ‘teenage’ years is coming to visit at the end of the month, and her visit will very much coincide with my renovation efforts. Well, you know what they say about best laid plans…
