Who captured who?

I had an idle interweb search yesterday, as I am inclined to do. The subject of my search was pubs that have been on the list at some point to see what has become of them.

I started with the Prince of Wales which was a lovely, if somewhat decrepit, building. The Prince was a good size property with parking, gardens and some seven bedrooms. Opposite a royal residence it was held on the remainder of an 800 year lease from the crown estate at a passing rent of £25 paid every 6 months. I rather fancied a cheque book full of stubs marked ‘HRH’ and imagine telling HMRC that you were short because you “had to pay Liz”. There were a lot of issues with the building when I viewed although the potential was clear to see.

An inquisitive finger went right through a ground floor window frame. I was also advised that one particular box seat is never removed because they receive electric shocks from it. This was a real community pub, in a less than flourishing community. When I visited with my son we really struggled to leave having made friends with customers and staff alike. One key feature that amused me was the bust stop opposite. When the school bus dropped off the children would peer in the window and some, finding their parents at the bar, would enter to collect sweet shop money! A lack of trading figures and a significant need for investment meant that my offer did not grab the attention of the PubCo disposal team and I parked it for later review. Shortly after I saw that it had sold and this was the first search to see what had become of it. The premises were purchased by a leisure group whose name is identical to one that seems intent on land banking in my beloved Sandown, not sure if they are one and the same.

The building has been refreshed and the kitchen re commissioned which shows a real investment. On top of this the accommodation has been refurbished into letting rooms each named after a royal child. The old girl looks great and it is clear that real investment has been made, I hope that this is a real future investment and not a ploy to disguise land banking. I wonder if they use the provision in their licence, by royal prerogative, that they may trade throughout the night when fishing competitions are being judged?

Turning to the next pub, the one that demonstrated the dream could be had, I had an immediate hit. The premises are back on the market for a figure that shows my previous offer to be acceptable. The Bonny, you may recall, had issues with parking which, in an area with restricted parking made the site untenable for a single operator. This is a another beautiful building a grade 2 listed former masonic hotel with, as I recall, 8 bedrooms.

When I first looked at this property I fell in love and thankfully the original owner was selling land to the rear. Apparently he had separated the plot when he sold with the intention of building on the tiny plot to the rear. I had draft plans for a small garage and parking for two cars outlined and a solicitor engaged for the conveyance. It is always difficult to purchase two plots separately when they are tied to the end plan but I figured that in the worse case I had to out the land at a later date. I think there was some conversation between the two vendors, the vendor of the land worked in the pub on Sundays, because ‘out of the blue’ I was gazumped on the land.

Some painful negotiations resulted in me offering a best and final against both packages, to be split however the vendors agreed. This presents a legal challenge in conveyancing but I agreed to fund that side of matters. It was a tough and emotive negotiation on both sides but you have to stick to your business plan and stop your heart writing cheques. The vendor chose to take the pub off the market, by this time we were mid summer season, based on the business doing well. I have seen what passes as the books and the business was far from healthy, I suspect that more family support was offered. This is what happens when emotion overtakes business, the summer is a tease that draws you into throwing more of your life and your cash at a failed dream.

Given my current situation I had no choice but to subdue my immediate urge to make an anonymous offer. I know of a parking solution fairly local that would ease the situation if not totally resolve it. I did look at the updated pictures on the agents site and they confirmed that additional family have moved in. They also showed that the trading side is still is eclectic and confused as before. I sat on my hands yesterday, I know that I cannot make a move just now. But this is a slow and difficult market, who is to say that fate has not just started the prologue to the next chapter of my story?

I know that in an odd way this has lifted a dark mood today. Try as I might the journey has been consumed with an undertone of cellar limitations, letting room conversions and bar reorganisation. Above all this is how I know I will achieve my goal, when something consumes you this much it is only a matter of time.

I remember calling Andrew from a local pub to discuss the Bonny and he remarked that I had found my pub. I remember the warmth of the building and I remember feeling at home there. Who is to say whether it us that choose the venue or the venue that chooses us. . . .

Advertisements

Check where you left your smile, it may no longer be there

I read, with sadness, of the decline of the wonderful art-deco style Grand in Sandown on the Isle. This is a wonderful building set in wide lawns opposite the beach. Sadly the building is owned by a ‘rot and redevelop’ type whose means of dealing with the planning authorities is to leave the building to decay to the point that they will pretty much accept anything. 

Sandown is a coastal town, much like my home, and these towns have suffered badly over the last ten years. It really worries me that the moronic planning system that we have does nothing to protect the fabric of these delightful buildings and their iconic status as landmarks. Anyone heading north out of Sandown would instantly recognise the grand and tens of thousands would recognise it as a family holiday location. A quick scan of the review sites reveals that as recently as 2013 people were raving about helpful staff trying to make the best of a tired building. Buildings do not decay overnight they decay because of long term neglect, where is the local authority during this? 

I have said before that I don’t believe in owning a pub I think that one can only be the custodian of the building. It is our job to protect and develop the fabric of the building for future generations. I know that my view is romantic and not everybody shares it but it really should not be so easy to take on a grand building and then suck its life out. Obviously businesses change and the economy cannot always support all of them, the licensed trade has seen this more than most, but we must do more to preserve our landscape. I can already hear the shouts of modernisation and need for housing but people need leisure spaces and pretty places. Housing estates are, in the main, dreary and soulless places let’s not let the country turn into one. 

I think that private funding should not absolve you of producing a business plan and that this plan should be shared with a local authority. When a person takes over one of these landmark buildings their business plan should be reviewed and set against a break price. All of the normal support for the business should occur of course, the best outcome is a trading and viable business after all. But an annual review against the business case could be used to ensure that the model is truly viable and that, more importantly, it is sustaining the building. I don’t for one minute want to restrict people from changing buildings or their use but an annual review would tell us if the ‘business’ was simply draining money from the venue and not preserving it. I am not alone in my thinking, looking at all of the hard work that my friends Andrew and Helen have put into their pub shows that some people really do want to preserve their premises. 

If the annual business plan review showed that the business was, in effect, trading the building to death then the local authority would be able to step in and buy at an artificially low break price. This element of planning would ensure that the people buying these businesses had a real and tested plan. Yes it would create a risk for the owners but we should not be so adverse to risk it forms a valuable check, in this case against greed. For most of us there is a real risk in business and perhaps where there is not we should pay closer attention to the plans if we want to protect our buildings. 

I have added a picture of the Grand and also of the gloriously tacky Wight City whose fate has gone the same way this year and is now boarded. The Wight City complex was an arcade, a café, a pub, nightclub and holiday lets before the owners concluded it was not viable. The building was shut this year and the owners applied to develop the site although at the moment I believe that they have been declined. Perhaps if the option to redevelop our history into accommodation didn’t exist then we would fight harder for alternative uses. I don’t for one minute think that the aging Wight City complex was a commercial gem or that its owners were making huge profits. My concern is that they are allowed to end anybody’s chances of retaining the building. In the glory days they may have earned good money and the current revenues therefore seem unsustainable but that is not to say that another operator couldn’t come up with a viable plan. 

Our seaside adventures did not take place in housing estates or gardens and our children deserve the opportunities that we had. I want children to grow up enthralled by the mystical scent of fried donuts and the dusty ghost train; I want them to remember how brave they felt standing on a wooden slatted pier staring down at the ocean. Our childhood memories are of the Wight Cities of the world unashamedly gaudy and strung in bright flashing lights. We might have to section off some of these buildings and look at alternative uses. To knock down and redevelop buildings whose very fabric is infused with the smiles and laughter of  generations is not only a crime it is irreversible and our children will never forgive us.

 

 

Rolling over and the myth of gardens

I think that being ‘on pause’ is making me even older than life is. I received a letter this weekend from my estate agent kindly informing me that they intend to increase my rent again. This is neither a surprise or unreasonable since, like most things in my life, my rent is negotiated on a long-term. The letter advised me that the new rent had been considered against the market which was a challenge that I could not resist. A quick check found that my apartment is indeed still good value when you consider its location. But one property, sharing the glorious ocean views, in much better condition was on the market for the same as my new rental figure. One significant point that the landlord has overlooked is supply and demand, there being significantly more of the former than the later. Now normally I would argue and debate the matter but I have just penned an acceptance letter. You see that is one of the problems with having your life on hold, it takes the fight out of you. There is no benefit in starting an argument now and dealing with the potential repercussions because my life is not yet my own.

Whilst life may be on hold it doesn’t detract from my plan, it is like I know where I am heading but I just can’t progress at the moment. Like an exercise bike in a gym the pedals are going around but I am growing no nearer. This morning I performed a much more interesting search and confirmed that there remains a wealth of property in my current price bracket on the Island. There is no point in me moving my home address now when I intend to do it again relatively soon so I will post the acceptance letter. I am though, considering how I can work the principle of ‘killing the goose that lays the golden egg’ into my eventual termination letter.

I have to, because I am English, mention the weather. It has been a really nice weekend at the coast but I think my view may not be held by all. Having had a week in London in blazing sun I was delighted to be met by a sea breeze and even a mist. Whilst I love the sun it is not suited to town life, it just saps the energy out of you walking around sun-scorched towns. The refreshing sea air has reinvigorated me for the week ahead and, let’s be honest, it normally turns brighter on a Monday when you’re heading to work.

There is a perennial discussion amongst single men at this time of year, garden or views? The established wisdom is that if you have a garden and you have children then you will spend more time and, by corollary, less money because you will be in the garden. I believe that the garden is a myth, a fantasy that is very far from reality. I challenged a friend over the weekend and asked when he would have cut the grass in the past. Quick as a flash the answer was middle of the week with a beer while the Mrs was cooking dinner. Now in his new arrangement he would have to cut the grass and cook the dinner right? You see the garden is the ultimate greener grass, sure we all think that they are a great idea when we don’t have one but they are just hard work. You look at the sun and fantisise about laying on your lush and verdant lawn with a cold beer in hand and the smell of BBQ wafting past. The reality is that you will be shouting at the kids who are bored as you battle the lawnmower through weeks of growth that you haven’t got round to. By the time that you have finished you will be too exhausted to play with the grass stained urchins that are your children. You will suggest a BBQ to be told that the kids want Pizza and will then spend your evening indoors drinking a beer whilst filling the washing machine and searching google for ways to remove grass stains.

Don’t let the garden owners sway you, like a Ferrari it is great to look at but would you want to run one? An apartment with a view is great, a stroll over the road and you can sit on the beach with a cold beer just don’t do it at 3 am or you may meet me there.

For those that take an interest in matters of my recovery I can report that I have eventually secured the Dermatix so will be reporting on that in due course. I am still unsure as to what I have done to upset the wicked Ms Nature but both wrists are very keen to make themselves known. I actually reverted to two hands this morning to pick up the kettle for fear of dropping it. Before anybody notes the weather I should say that I still steadfastly refuse to believe that atmospherics has anything to do with it.

Sweet bricks and blisters

I was on the train this morning listening to a couple of guys discussing summer plans. What is it that means men cannot stop working? The plans for the summer include reworking decking and replanting lawns, why? It was great listening to the boasts of “16 foot square decking” against “I have two railings” and, of course, mains vs solar lighting. But it does seem to me that the male race is split between workers and non workers.

Your busy working man is unable to truly switch off and instead makes himself busy with industries garden activities. Your sedentary man views the garden solely as a place to drink beer in the summer. Unfortunately there seems to be a disconnect between the sexes here as well. Some primeval instinct means that women are drawn to the worker/provider type but they, of course, are not available. So whilst the perfect mate is soaking blisters in a hot bath his partner to be is hooking up with the non worker who finds time to go clubbing. Yet more evidence of Ms Nature at work to spite us all.

An observation from town today, if coffee makes you active then why are their so many shops? There is a Costa or Starbucks on virtually every street corner. If the product keeps us awake and running around as they would have us believe why can’t we walk further? Is the absence of store bought caffeine realy that debilitating that they have to ensure that no matter where you enter town from you get your fix first? It is clear though, as you walk around our town centres, that obesity is here to stay. Every other store sells food, at 08:45 I could have hot pies, sausage rolls and every cake known to man. There was even a shop selling home made fudge in 1 pound bricks, there goes portion control.

This glut of stores that reach out to gluttony means that the only thing that can restrain us is self control. We are doomed, shopping centres inspire reckless purchasing, some would say that is their very purpose. You only have to look at the fashion industry to realise that we have no control when shopping. Shopping centres operate on a mob culture of consumerism. With nothing else to buy people will graze.

I think this is another zombie issue, they are fattening us up in order to feed the cannibalistic hordes. More proof, if any were needed, comes from the government debates on taxing high fat foods. The tax won’t fund healthcare and education, it will fund more bunkers in readiness. Remember you read it here first!