Expenses

I was impressed by a local car service workshop I had been going to.  I had some trouble with an old car while driving on the highway. The car barely made it home.  I found a repairer and the problem was quickly fixed.  It struck me that the guy seeing the interstate number plates could have fleeced me, but he didn't.  So, I developed a favourable impression of the workshop and staff, and that lasted until recently.  It lasted until noises, clunks, and a vibration started coming from the back of the car each time the brakes were applied.

I had taken the car to this workshop based on my previous experience with them. I was genuinely impressed with the place; the guy who ran it seemed genuine too. Well that was until the brakes gave trouble. There were no horrible accidents caused by brake failure, just a horrible bill.

We’d come to Canberra from Melbourne and the car had to have a vehicle roadworthiness inspection prior to being registered in the ACT. It passed the roadworthy without incident, but there was a sound from the rear you could hear when the brakes were applied. My enquiry to the mechanic about the noise was that it was dust and nothing to worry about.

The noise did sound like dust in brake drums, because I know that sound. This car had disks all round. The months passed and the noise got worse. Before the car was taken to a brake specialist there were clunking noises and a noisy scraping sound that reverberated through the whole car. The brake pads had worn down to the extent that there was no pad left on one of the wheels. The noise was the sound of metal on metal, and the wear had been such that one of the callipers was damaged. If the brakes had been inspected property during the roadworthy check the $1000 expense of replacing disks and callipers may not have been required. During such checks, mechanics often check one side of the vehicle during their inspection and assume the other side to be the same. That may have been the problem, but I have to wonder if any brake check was done at all. The mechanic might take offence at that suggestion, but the bottom line is that the noise couldn’t have been dust and they missed picking up the brake problem.

Getting the finance for this property was a bit touch-and-go at one point. The last straw on camel’s back that nearly brought things to a halt was the solicitor’s fee. I was expecting them to bill me, oh, sometime later. No, they wanted their fee included in the settlement cheques. I didn’t really account for that and consequently had to use credit card money to help cover the cheques.

Banks have a killer interest rate on cash advances from credit cards. It’s not that borrowing on the card maxed out the card, but it came close. Then there were other expenses that did max out the card. As a consequence I’m having trouble getting the card’s debt cleared. I’ve had the property for about a year and I still have the credit card debt, and the way banks operate the cash advance interest will remain until all debt on the card has gone.  A banking policy of kicking you when you're down; making things hard for you when you can least afford it.

So just when I wanted a steady uninterrupted flow of money to help pay off these debts we were asked by our tenant if we could fit new screen doors to the property.  I don't know why we were so soft.

Should you bother with what the tenant says?

Well, of course you should. But you shouldn't let their requests get in the way of your own priorities in life.

The last thing anyone needs immediately after settlement is bills. Some effort and money was invested in cleaning the place. We repaired a few things around the house that needed doing, and replaced the existing lampshades in the unit. To improve presentation prior to renting. There had never been a need for a letterbox by the previous owners, but one was required now before we could rent. Things were generally done economically. We were looking forward to getting a tenant into the place.

The property was advertised and a tenant was found remarkable quickly. I was pleasantly surprised by how quickly it was taken. The agent was considering several applicants and gave it to a young woman who had a few pet cats.

Very soon after our new tenant took up residence she came to us with a request. She was concerned the unit would get hot and uncomfortable for her cats if they were locked up all day with the doors shut. The house had two sliding glass doors along with two sliding aluminium screen doors. They were security doors but not as tough as some products on the market, and of course the fly screen was nylon. Not the most durable thing when cats start scraping at the door. She was concerned the screen doors would not offer sufficient security if the main doors were left open. Could she please have security screen doors fitted?

As it happened she knew someone, a friend, or a friend of a friend, who was in the business of making and fitting security screen doors. He could do a deal because of her relationship with him and the price would be good. And he would fit a new screen door to our downstairs unit at the same discounted price.

We briefly explained our financial situation, which I doubt interested her. Basically, we were saying we couldn’t afford this. Stainless steel mesh insect screen doors are relatively expensive. She volunteered to pay for the doors herself. She must have said that without thinking, and possibly bit her tongue afterward. At least it indicated the strength of her bank account. We agreed to have the doors fitted, but only if she purchased them and we undertook to make regular repayments to her each fortnight. I find that arrangement so bizarre: she was to pay us rent for living in the property, we were to pay her for screen doors.

Anyway, we had three aluminium and stainless steel screen doors fitted to the house. I had seen these things advertised for some time. They have an aluminium frame with stainless steel mesh. The screens give the impression of having the door open which of course allows more of the view to be seen. In hindsight we should have said something along the lines: no, put up with things as they are or move out.

Experiences like these make you hard. Particularly when unexpected car repair bills hit. There were a few other expenses too. Clearing the debt was tougher than expected.

A bizarre conversation with my solicitor

Things begin to fall into place. Finance was approved. The real estate agent had the deposit and contracts were exchanged. A settlement date was set. I’ve always been so curious about the process involved in settlement, and at some stage would like to be present when it takes place.

I imagine a darkish, sombre room. The room might be wall-panelled, perhaps a glassed book case stands against a wall, a mahogany table dominates the room, everything reeking of conservatism and money; perhaps it would be the office of a bank. On opposite sides of the table the solicitors or conveyancers are seated, representing me and the vendor. The real estate agent might be present, and perhaps a couple of bankers representing the financial organisations. The very stern solicitors would study the contract of sale, check the sale price, ensure the cheques were just so, and then various documents would be slid across the table.

Though, probably a brightly lit office tended by clerks and junior legal staff manage one settlement after the other, and the coffee stained table is strewn with snack wrappers. It would have to be this way given the lack of care some conveyancers and solicitors demonstrate.

I was curious about this particular settlement, given that it was almost 200km distant from Canberra. I wondered that one or other of the legal teams would travel to the other city, or meet somewhere between the two locations. Neither of these options were considered, when I enquired. My solicitor would contract someone to act on his behalf, or if no one could be found, the vendor’s solicitor would be asked to handle everything. Did I mishear something: the vendor’s solicitor would do everything. Sounds like a potential conflict of interests. It’s done all the time, he said.

My job

The one thing I didn’t mention to my lender was my employment situation. Well, not in as much detail as I could have done. I answered all the questions that were put to me in the application form. I answered completely and truthfully. However, there were certain things happening in my life that the form didn’t ask. So I didn’t tell them.

I had been in the same job for about 4 years. I expect lending institutions like to know that you are in a steady job. It helps keep the repayments coming. The application form asked questions about my employment history and I responded with exact dates and salary. They asked about my personal finances and I responded accurately and completely.

What they didn’t know was that the company I worked for was in the middle of a restructure. This restructure had been on the go for some time, and my job had been targeted as one that had to go. I had managed to procure an alternative job; I then sought permission to quit my current job early, and start the new job the day after the old one finished; which was nice. My separation package made up a substantial proportion of the deposit for the property I wanted to buy. So, redundancy was a good thing for me. Though I have to say, I did enjoy the job very much, I knew it well and did it well, and I knew I was going to miss it. That’s life I guess. Apart from my annoyance with my employer of what was going on, because I thought management were making some bad decisions, the payout was going to help buy me a property. So, to some extent, I have to thank them for providing the means of purchasing my second property. It wouldn’t have been possible without the separation package.

Restructure: that’s a term more and more people are becoming familiar with. I’ve met with restructure experiences more times than I would have preferred. This restructure was an on- and off- and on-again experience that was really pissing me off. More than a year previously there had been a staff announcement about an intended restructure. Jobs were to go. Then notice came that my job was safe; it wasn’t going to be targeted. The restructure wouldn’t affect me. Then about six months or so later it was on again and my job was to go. Then once again they changed their mind; my job was safe. Then there was a new development and my job was to go, and it was definite this time.

It makes it difficult to plan your life when the crowd you work for can’t make a decision and stick to it. It makes you wonder about the calibre of the management. I was determined not to let their sloppiness upset my life. Though, their decision had upset my life. There is no getting away from that.

I used to live in Melbourne. I left Victoria, selling my house to move to the ACT and a new job. This job. And here I was being retrenched from it. Yes, I felt put out. My house in Melbourne didn’t sell for as much as I would have liked, the new house was purchased in Canberra for more money than I would cared to have parted with, and it was a smaller house than my Melbourne place.

Anyway, the new job had a better salary, which always helps, but the job was only a six months contract, with the possibility that it would be made ongoing. My intended lender didn’t ask me if I had plans of quitting my current job, or if I was considering changing jobs, or whether the new job was in a more or less stable environment. They didn’t ask. So, I didn’t tell them. Well, why would they? They would have had no idea. They probably assume people wouldn’t be asking for a loan unless you have a job that enables you to make the repayments.

I felt relatively sure I would keep the new job. I didn’t want to jeopardise my chances of not being approved for the loan. So, I didn’t say a word.

I suppose at some point the lender could have contacted my employer to check me out. Perhaps they did. Wary of not being approved for the loan, I kept quiet about it. Each time I received an email or phone call from the lender I felt on edge. I was always expecting a question on my employment situation that would have given the game away. Fortunately, it never happened.

Westpac stuffs up

My funds to cover the deposit were held in two accounts. A Westpac savings account had the payout from my previous employer. I had just changed jobs while in the middle of a real estate deal. The money was from the termination payout. The remainder of the deposit was held in an offset account linked to my existing home loan, which had a cheque account facility. I wanted to write a cheque, but there were insufficient funds in the cheque account to cover the deposit. It was about $10,000 short. So, I needed to transfer some money to make up the difference.  That shouldn't be too difficult.  Surely.

That evening after work I rang Westpac telephone banking. I explained that I wanted to transfer some funds, mentioning that I wanted the funds transferred quickly. The person on the phone said there would be no trouble in transferring the funds, but advised that it might take a few days, and added that if I wanted to transfer the money quickly it would be best to visit a branch and speak to a teller. This person emphasized that the process would be much quicker through a teller at a branch of the bank. So, a visit to the bank was required. I thanked him, and made that my first priority in the morning. I was up early and waiting at the front door of my local bank branch at opening time.

There was plenty of money in the Westpac account. I asked for $10,000 to be transferred, and I provided the account details. How long would it take, I asked. Usually overnight, the teller said, but she explained that as the funds were to be transferred to another bank, they couldn’t tell me exactly how long it might take, but probably the day after next. This was remarkably similar to what I had been told by the online banking person on the previous evening. And I mentioned my recent experience of the evening before. The young teller I was speaking to admitted to being inexperienced and sought advice from her supervisor, who turned out to be a nasty piece of work.

I explained my request and passed on the advice I received from Westpac telephone banking. That’s wrong, the supervisor said, it is much faster for telephone banking to have done it for you. She added that telephone banking is always saying that. And they’re wrong, she snapped at me. She then directed me to a telephone in the corner of the bank that I could use to contact their telephone banking service if I wished.

I wonder if there was no phone in the corner of the bank and had the closest public telephone been down the street somewhere whether she would have directed me to the pubic telephone box.

I was in a bank and a supposedly experienced banking officer was offering the use of telephone banking services when there was a teller sitting across the counter from me. I found this experience bizarre. I didn’t know what to say. The stupidity was bewildering, but what really offended me was the aggressive and offhand manner of this person. This was a Westpac experience; I’d like people to know that. I suspect the funds would be transferred equally fast or slowly by either method. I declined the use of their telephone and asked the teller to continue with the transfer. I was getting fed up.

With the funds now on their way to my cheque account I wrote the cheque for the property deposit and took it to my solicitor explaining what I had done, and asked him to hold it for a while. This was on a Tuesday. The solicitor agreed not to post the cheque and contract until Friday, which would be more than ample time for my funds to be transferred and cover the cheque.

On the weekend I saw the $10,000 appear in my account. The cogs in the financial machinery were turning. The funds took longer than expected to be transferred but the money was in my account. The cheque was covered. The transfer took about four days rather than the estimated two that Westpac advised. I doubted the mail service would be very fast in getting mail to a regional area meaning the cheque wouldn’t have reached the real estate office before Tuesday. Everything was working out. Wrong!

I got a call from the real estate agent early in the week to say the cheque had been dishonoured. I apologised and said I couldn’t understand why that would have occurred saying I would look into it. I was panicked.

How could this be? Had I made a mistake? Had I misread my account statement? I was beginning to doubt myself. I felt a sinking feeling as various possibilities for what went wrong began circling my mind. I skipped work and went home where I could try and come to grips with this.

At home I checked my account again. The $10,000 was definitely there. The account total balance had gone up. The total balance was greater than the cheque I had written. No home loan payments had taken place. But a new entry had appeared: a $40 dishonour fee. How could this be?

I rang both financial institutions. Neither of them helped. Though, in speaking to some informed staff from both I got to the bottom of it. The cheque had been dishonoured because the $10,000 was forwarded with a note from Westpac instructing that a 7 day hold be placed on the release of the funds, which caused my cheque to bounce. The $10,000 had been transferred as though it had been a cheque, in which a certain time has to pass before access to the funds was allowed. The staff where my cheque account was held, very reasonably asked if the $10,000 was a cheque deposit. I said no, and they couldn’t understand why this request was made.

The staff at the Westpac telephone banking were helpful and courteous, and in particular a woman I spoke to. She was a supervisor at telephone banking. She confirmed that the funds had been transferred as though it had been a cheque. She could see from my account that the money was available and should have been transferred without a hold. She could not explain what had happened. To her credit, she deposited into my account $40 in lieu of the dishonour fee that I was penalised by the other financial institution. This was nice, but it didn’t help me pay the deposit.

The real estate agent needed the deposit without delay. Ironically, I was advised that if the cheque were to be presented again on the next business day it would have been okay. Had the real estate agent not have been so quick off the mark to bank the cheque the funds would have been available. But the agent couldn’t present the cheque again as it was still in the hands of the bank and wouldn’t be returned for a week or so. Another urgent visit to the bank was required.

I rang the real estate agent and explained what had happened. Though I doubt they would have had much interest, and may have been wondering if I were some sort of charlatan. I asked for my cheque to be returned when they got it, and requested their bank account details and made a cash deposit. It was a different bank but fortunately only a short walk from my own. My pockets were stuffed with two envelopes bulging with $100 notes to cover the $30,000 deposit. It’s surprising how much space money occupies. I was a target waiting to be robbed. Fortunately, within a short time the deposit was safely in the real estate agent’s trust account. Perhaps I should have done this first time around, but money transfers are supposed to make things easy, not difficult. I hate Westpac.

The Westpac stuff up had enraged me. On my visit to the Westpac branch I was itching to catch the eye of the supervisor who botched this. I wanted a word with her. I wanted to tell her what I thought of her and Westpac. She would have got an earful of abuse. She wasn’t on duty. And unfortunately the teller who dealt with me that morning had to wear my grumpiness. I had him count the money several times; when he finished weighing the notes on his machine (which I didn’t trust), I got him to do it again manually in a private bank office. He was irritated by my request. I didn’t care. Stuff them.

Finance approval

I received an email and a phone call from my new lender shortly after my visit to the solicitor. The content of which was to say my application had been approved. Are emails written confirmation? Do they really count? They are a form of written communication, but do they carry the same weight as a piece of paper delivered by Australia Post. My solicitor seemed to think so.

So, that’s it. The deal is a happening thing. We have a new property. Well, almost. Things were beginning to look positive.

I wondered if the telephone conversation I had a few days earlier with a finance rep made a difference. I was at a Westpac branch getting a statement when someone rang me. I fibbed and said Westpac had been tempting me with their home loan deals.  I said they were trying to get me to change lenders. It wasn't really true, but I wonder if that helped get things moving a bit faster.  The fear of loosing a potential customer.

I was feeling happy, and had a lilt in my step. Although, another problem was about to occur that was completely unexpected.

Request from the lender

The lender eventually requested identification documents to be forwarded, or rather, demanded documentation. Some grumpy person rang me. Rather than a pleasant greeting the caller snapped at me. Where is my identification material, he demanded. I explained that no one had asked for anything.

Had I not doubted my chances of being approved I would have grumped right back. Despite the grumpiness, this was a positive step. When I enquired about doing this at an earlier stage I was advised not to trouble myself. Then I got this demand as to where the material was, as though they were waiting for me and I was dragging my feet. The documents had to be copies endorsed by a JP and posted to them.

I guess that’s the trouble when the lender doesn’t have an office and everything is done by phone or by email, and with different people dealing with you. In fact the original person I was working with took some recreation leave and I had to work with someone else, then the original bloke came back for a time and then he got sick and was off work again. I don’t know if these breaks and different people were to my disadvantage, but it would have slowed things.

You could put a case that this is where these institutions fall down. Banks fall over themselves trying to demonstrate that online banks can’t provide a good service. They say they disadvantage themselves by not having a shop front. To some extent that’s true, but I’d rather have the lower interest rates than the good service. In my experience that good service is sometimes difficult to find amongst the shop front banks even when you look for it, despite what they say. My experience of the average financial institution with a shop front leaves a lot to be desired. The only thing I dislike about the online services is the risk of fraud associated with financial dealings when using your home computer with the various viruses, worms, Trojans and the like.

The last thing they requested of me was proof of my ability to pay the deposit. They wanted bank statements. I immediately obliged and took a lunch time trip to my bank (yes, a Westpac shop front) to get the documentation they requested. I couldn’t give them a statement, as I didn’t have one yet. My payout money had only been in the bank a few weeks. I doubt they’d be interested in the slip of paper teller machines print out.

I wondered if this was where things were going to get difficult. I had just changed jobs, and I wondered whether I might be questioned on this subject at some point. It was something I thought might cause everything to come crashing to halt. At that precise point in time I was working for a different company than I had been when I applied for finance only a few weeks before. I provided all sorts of information when I applied, everything related to the old employer: payslips, group certificates, but nothing for my current employer. Well, when I completed the application form I didn’t have the new job. What else was I to do? I had only just started the new job and it was too early to even have my first payslip.

Anyway I was at the bank. I told the teller what I wanted: a statement showing my balance. I explained that it was a request from a financial institution where I was applying for a home loan. I expected the bank would print it on some sort of official looking lettered headed paper. But no, it was a printout on a plain sheet of paper that was stamped using an inked rubber stamp with the bank’s name, and dated. It looked pretty ordinary. I was unimpressed, and I said so. The teller said she knew what was required and it would be acceptable.

The teller reminded me that they have a loans officer who could discuss the bank’s home loan options. This was a Westpac bank, and I have black-listed them. Westpac’s staff had given me some really poor treatment in the past so I have decided not to use Westpac other than a simple transaction account. I listened to the teller and politely declined. At that point in time I was quite happy to pursue my current application, if they’d have me.

I had just finished with the teller by a few seconds when my mobile rang. I was actually pushing my way through the door of the bank when it rang. The caller was a guy from the lender reminding me that a bank statement was required. An email and now a phone call. How much notice do they think I need. It was a different voice on the phone. Not the grump I had spoken with earlier. Anyway, I told him I was at the bank at that very moment doing exactly what was requested. He seemed pleased. I told him I had the statement in my hand, and that I’d send it to him today. Then a thought occurred to me.

I considered it would do no harm to give them some encouragement in processing my application. I dangled a carrot in front of them. I mentioned that while at the bank I was asked by the teller why I wanted the statement. I related how I mentioned I was looking for a home loan and the statement was required as part of my application. I then went on to say that the bank officer began to put a sales pitch to me and sell their home loan services and explain the benefits of getting a home loan through Westpac rather than the company I had my application with. This is a very reasonable scenario because it happens. You do get badgered. However, none of this took place, other than a short chat. A loans officer was there and could have spent time with me, but I declined. Instead, I embellished the experience. I wanted to give the impression to the guy I had on the phone at that moment that Westpac was seriously after my custom. It was all a bluff, but it may have helped, because a few days later my application was approved.

The next few days proved awkward because at the time I had no idea of how my loan application was progressing. I didn’t know how close the application was to being approved; they didn’t communicate anything of this nature.

Being hassled by the agent

The pressure was on again in quicker time that I would have liked. The vendor’s solicitor must have mailed the contract to my solicitor immediately. My solicitor contacted me asking us to call into his office to sign the contract so that exchange could take place. That’s a commitment I didn’t want to make until I had some home loan finance organised. I put off making an appointment. That didn’t worry my solicitor, but I began to get badgered again by the vendor’s agent.

At a time when it would have been good to have things move quickly this new lender worked at a leisurely pace. If only the vendor wasn’t in such a hurry to close the deal.

My application with the new lender was progressing. I was contacted to provide documents in addition to what had been requested in the application package: more financial statements, rates notices etc. It was reassuring to know that the wheels of industry were turning. Though, I wonder why they didn’t ask for this stuff earlier.

Another lender

I applied to another lender for a home loan. Not a bank. I went through the whole application process again, resulting in more time being spent in completing another multi page form and waiting for approval.

My chosen lender had a web site like most others. It included various calculators. I entered my details in their calculator which indicated I would be approved. That wasn't really a surprise. I suspect financial institutions make it easy for you. To get you hooked. The world hasn’t learned that much since the Global Financial Crisis. Anyway, I printed an application form and began filling it out.

I was absolutely honest in completing the application. I checked and double checked every entry, particularly the financial questions. I provided copies of my payslip, credit card statements, current home loan statement, absolutely everything. I checked the start date of my employment, double checked I had my driver’s licence number correctly stated, and $ amounts, dates and other information was checked and rechecked. I didn’t want anything looking suspicious or found to be inaccurate. I imagine they would make a few spot checks, but who knows, perhaps they confirmed everything. If any errors were found it may have delayed my application, or worse, they might have rejected my application. It was the most carefully put together application I could manage and it was mailed to them. I had good reason to concentrate on having this application go through smoothly, and it wasn't just because the vendor's real estate agent was on my back.

It was easier this time, having applied so recently. Most of the required information was the same, and fortunately I had kept a copy of the first application. I sat back and waited.

They want the solicitor’s details

When the agent rang to say our offer had been accepted she also asked for my solicitor’s contact information. What solicitor?  Oops, was I supposed to have one already.  I agreed to forward the information, but until I had finance organised I quietly ignored this request.

Within a remarkably short time, the vendor’s agent rang again asking me to provide details of my solicitor, and in the days following (or was it weeks) I was continually asked for this information.

I was dragging my feet. I didn’t want to proceed until my finances had been worked out. It was getting embarrassing.  But there was no way anyone was going to find out my real situation.

Unhappy with the response from my current lender, I was now shopping for a home loan elsewhere. I should have done all of this a lot earlier. I was beginning to get a bit anxious.

As a first step in financing the new property I scanned the web for a suitable lender. There are so many banks and other financial institutions that the task of filtering them becomes overwhelming. There are even web sites that do the filtering for you.

If you search using the phrase “home loan comparison” you get almost two million results. The phrase “home loan guide” returns 26,000 results.  And the last thing I wanted was it to be presented with was tons of pictures of smiling people on web pages with them sipping wine or carrying meaningless symbols when you are feeling stressed.

It gets confusing. Information overload. In the end, I opted to ignore the pretty web sites with pictures of happy smiling faces in favour of talking to people I knew seeking their experiences. This doesn’t say much for my web based solution.  I had already checked out the organisation that was currently financing my home, and that had ended abruptly. The search continues.

The existing lender

As soon as I could, I contacted the lender that was financing my current home. From the information I provided on the phone, the rep said I would probably be approved, and he asked me to submit an application. This actually took a few days to prepare. It’s a painful process completing these multi-page application forms.

After considering our finances and commitments the deal seemed to be a no go. That was disappointing. They could help me, but only under certain conditions. Their assessment also took more time than expected. In fact, I had to get on the phone to them, rather than being contacted by the lender. Time was pressing.

They wanted me to jump through too many hoops. But I did have a very interesting conversation that had a favourable effect my interest rate. On my existing home loan, that is.

They took issue with my credit card limit. I couldn’t quite see the point of the credit card issue when it was raised, as I always cleared the debt before the due date each month. But I can see their point now. The point is that there might be debt, which might make it difficult to make the home loan repayments if the card debt builds up too high. They also wanted me to have a larger deposit for the property. This wasn’t going to happen. At the time of these conversations I had an offer on a property. I had no interest in saving for a larger deposit. I’d lose the property to someone else, and I wanted to avoid that.

The interesting thing that occurred during my enquiry to this lender was related to my current interest rate. Without my asking, the rep offered me a discount on my current rate. I’d never heard of a discount before. At least, not during a conversation such as this. I was almost dumbstruck, but not so dumb as to say that’d be very nice. So, the way this works is that whatever the going flexible rate is at any particular time that this company has set for people’s home loans, for the life of my home loan, the interest rate I will be charged will be 10% less than everyone else. I asked if he’d confirm that in writing, and sure enough an email came through to say just that. To say I was amazed is an understatement. There has to be a lesson here for everyone. Perhaps everyone should try for a discount. What have you got to lose? It’s possible they wanted to ensure they kept me as a customer. Perhaps they thought along the lines that here’s a client who’s shopping around, if I don’t get satisfaction with them they may have feared I’d walk off and refinance everything with some other company, and so lose my business. I don’t know. I never asked them.

These enquiries were at about the time the Australian Government had put out its offer of guaranteeing the big banks. My home loan wasn’t with one of the larger Australian banks. Perhaps they were losing customers and just wanted to hang on to me and this was the inducement. It worked.

I was speaking to a rep form another lending institution. Well, I was shopping around, after all. The rep asked who my home loan was currently financed with. I told him. His response surprised me. He said he didn’t know they were still in business. Comments like that do nothing for your confidence in your financial situation. Is it practice for these people to put fear into people’s minds?

Our offer is accepted

It may be stating the obvious, but it’s probably wise to grab some money before going on a shopping trip. It could be embarrassing having the shopkeeper wrap an item only to discover you only had a few coins in your pocket. The same is true with real estate deals.


We found a suitable property and made an offer. Thinking back on that day, I must have seemed a little off hand to the agent. Just before the agent got off the phone with our final offer the agent said she didn’t think the offer would be accepted. This was just some real estate trick to try and have us to increase our offer. It had no effect and asked her to put it to the vendor all the same. I also said we were going out in the afternoon; off to the movies. We love going to the movies.

Driving into town we chatted about the property and whether our offer would be accepted. We considered if it was accepted then we’d have a new property; if not then that would be too bad. We’d just keep looking for another property in the area. There seemed to be plenty of properties on the market. Anyway, late in the afternoon the phone rang. It was the agent. She seemed a little perturbed. It’s amazing how people don’t listen. I said we were going to spend the afternoon at the movies. Despite that, the agent seemed annoyed that we weren’t contactable. Don’t people know that you switch the mobile off when at the theatre?

Anyway, our offer had been accepted. All we needed to do was provide our solicitor’s contact details to get things rolling.


Actually, there was more to do than just contact our solicitor. I had to find a solicitor, but there was a bigger problem. I had to get some finance. I should have made a few serious financial enquiries before shopping around for a property, but I didn’t think there would be any problems. There were problems.

These photos are of Surf Beach at sunset. This is the local beach. This spot is not much more than five minutes walk from the property. There was plenty of incentive to get everything organised.

The importance of tick boxes

I received a telephone call from the Macquarie bank. They said I was behind in my repayments. And we all know what that means. If you don’t keep up with the repayments for something it gets taken away from you.

It’s Macquarie Bank that funds my home loan for Virgin Money. I wonder why Virgin doesn’t fund its own loans. I would have thought Virgin was big enough. Anyway, the person from Macquarie rang to say that I was behind in my repayments by $1339.13. I recall that amount being flagged as my first repayment in an email that had been sent to me.

This was disappointing news, and disturbing. I had thought the repayments would have been the least of my worries. I had a job, I could afford the repayments, and salary deductions had been set up. So what was going on?

In my previous home loan I was aware of the importance of making as many early repayments as possible. A lesson from a few years previously sprang to mind. I’d taken out a small loan with a Tasmanian cooperative building society. The loan was only for a few thousand dollars. The person setting up the loan asked if I would like to delay the repayments by a few weeks, or was it months. I can’t remember. It sounded like a generous offer, and I never questioned it. I only thought how generous it seemed. That was my mistake. Financial organisations aren’t generous. I didn’t enquire further, and I was stung.

When the loans officer had made the offer, I had assumed she had meant:

• we can put a freeze on the repayments and interest charges,
• you can have this loan now,
• make no repayments for x amount of time, and
• you will be no worse off than had you started making your repayments straight away.
  

The loans offer should have said:

• we’ll allow you to skip the first few repayments for x amount of time, but
• interest will accrue and add to your principal based on our current charges.
  

The principal grew much higher than I thought reasonable, and it took me a long time to get it below the amount I’d borrowed in the first place. Had I known what was about to take place from the inception I would have declined the offer. The loans officer was did not fully explain the ‘offer’ and I didn’t pursue the details.

With that lesson in mind, when I went along to Westpac for a home loan I was adamant about when my first repayment would begin. I had things worked out in my mind such that when the loan took effect (settlement), I had my first repayment going into my account on the very next business day. There’s not a lot of interest that can accumulate in one day, but my first repayment dropped the principal more than would have happened had I waited for a fortnight or so before the first repayment was made.

So, when Macquarie rang to tell me that nothing was being paid off my home loan I was astonished. I explained to the disinterested person who rang that I had about $90,000 in an offset to the loan. I believe the way this works is that if I make repayments greater than the minimum my offset is increased by the difference. If I make repayments that are less than I should, or presumably if I don’t make any repayments the offset amount is reduced, but the loan keeps getting repaid. Actually, I don’t make repayments to the home loan account, but make deposits into the offset account. Presumably, funds flow on a periodic basis from my offset account to the home loan account. So, what was going on?

After some telephone calls, lots of people checking on things, it got fixed. It turned out that when the loan was being set up (was that by Virgin or Macquarie; who knows) someone forgot to start the automatic transfer of funds system. Some tick box on some computer screen somewhere had been left un-ticked. Was that some form I had forgotten to complete and send away, I enquired? No, it was something that gets done their end, and someone just forgot to do it.

I was reassured that everything would be okay in the future. But I wondered how much my principal had increased because no repayments have been made. They say they will look into that aspect. And I thought the problems were over. Thankfully, I had deposited my tax return into the account not so long ago, which would have helped. Though, it makes you wonder about the people who run the financial world.

Melbourne to Canberra

We had another very slow trip back to Canberra, with lots of breaks. I was particularly aware of how things were packed in the truck and was very tentative in driving over rough sections of the road. Parts of the Hume Highway are not as pleasant to drive on as you’d expect for a major highway. So, I slowed at those sections, and I didn’t care how much I held up the traffic. This highway badly needs an overhaul. Even parts of the Victorian side of the highway, which is freeway for the whole length of it, is beginning to break up with the heavy traffic; probably truck usage more than anything.

A fog began to develop when we were somewhere near Glenrowan and it didn’t let up until we reached Gundagai. I wonder if it was from the Murray River system. It was quite eerie. The headlights seemed to shine in the wrong directions, with low beam being the best. It got so thick at times that we had to drive slowly.

I recall listening to a news broadcast many years ago. A couple of motorists driving in Germany had succumbed to an accident on a highway. They were driving on the same road but in opposite directions in a very heavy fog. It was so foggy that both drivers were having trouble seeing the road ahead. To alleviate the problem it seems that both drivers had preferred to lean out the window and drive by keeping the painted line on the road surface in sight. They encountered each other suddenly, not in a vehicle collision, but when their heads impacted as they drove past each other. They should have stopped if the conditions were so bad. It sounds like a tall story, but it was reported on ABC Radio news.

Fortunately, the fog was not so heavy on the Hume, but it was a lovely experience to see it. This trip must have taken around 12 hours, including breaks. S was desperate for sleep. Every time I had to stop for a nap, she could only rest in a sitting position in the ute. There was more room to stretch out in the truck so we swapped and she got a good rest for a few hours. I noticed while in the ute, that as comfortable as the car is to drive, you just can’t get into a decent position for sleeping.

Home at last. A short rest, and then realising our time was short in which to return the truck to the rental company, we almost threw everything out (and it still took about 2-3 hours to unpack). We rushed to fill the tank, and get the truck back to Fyshwick by 5.00pm. Actually, filling the tank was an interesting experience that I shared with my credit card.

With fuel prices seeming to be in an upward spiral it becomes annoying to watch the dollar indicator spinning around ever faster as you fill the petrol tank at the end of the week. When I stopped the truck to fill the fuel tank, and saw the size of the tank you quickly understand that paying for fuel in a truck takes on a whole new meaning that motorists never experience. Actually, it was an experience in more ways than one. With a truck, the nozzle goes straight into the tank. There are no bends in the filler as cars have, and refuelling stations have diesel bowsers specially made for filling truck tanks. High speed bowsers. Now if you want to see the dollar indicator spin, fill a truck tank at one of these bowsers.

Actually, filling the tank was the single worst experience of driving the truck. The bowser nozzles were generally messy; soaked in diesel spillages. And it stinks, and stays on your hands and clothes. I suspect some people with diesel engines in their cars go there to avoid lining up in the queues at the regular bowsers, and of course the high speed bowser pumps mega volumes of fuel out like you wouldn’t believe. Of course, it blows back, spills, and before you know it these people are stuffing things up for everyone else.

It felt really peculiar getting back into the EXA, after driving the truck for so long. The car was so low to the ground that it felt weird, and it was a bit rough being an older vehicle that it felt like I was driving a truck; compared to the rental truck which felt like driving a car. Home again. An Indian takeaway, and then bed.

A $90,000 loose end tidied up

The Virgin card arrived in the post this afternoon. At last I can correct that dumb mistake that occurred during settlement and deposit the $90,000 cheque. But I wonder what it has cost me in increased interest repayments.

S called in at the Belconnen solicitor’s office to pick up the cheque. She was treated in an offhand manner by the staff at the office. That was at William Heague, Belconnen. She was amused to note, that when they spotted her title (Dr) their manner changed markedly.

Stupidity, incompetence, and lies

At settlement I had a couple of cheques issued in my name, the larger of which was in the region of $90,000. The cheque was not drawn at my request and was done due to absent mindedness, error in judgment, or incompetence by the people undertaking settlement on my behalf.

I had rang David, from Virgin Money when I first got wind of it as I was concerned I hadn’t completed all the various forms exactly as required. He telephoned to say I had completed everything correctly. So why did the Virgin agent and my solicitor go making decisions on their own and fowling things up? My solicitor had said she was advised by Virgin to draw the $90,000 cheque. It could have been that the Virgin agent knew little about banking, nor how to conduct a property settlement. It could have been that the solicitor had little regard for my interests. I don’t know what it was, but someone had goofed. No one sought advice from me. If there was any doubt they should have contacted me and asked.

I rang Wridgways to find out when our furniture would be delivered. It would be delivered on the 4th July. Now that’s curious, considering Wridgways in Melbourne said our things would be delivered definitely before July. It sounds as though Mark De Lacy, the Melbourne Wridgways guy, was making things up when he said our furniture would be delivered before the end of the month.

Is that the technique? Whenever there is a problem, just open your mouth and tell the punters a whole heap of crap. It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not just smooth the waters to get them out of your hair. Well, it fitted with the whole Wridgways experience.

A duty of carelessness

The solicitor rang. She said, “Settlement went through without a problem.” This was really good to hear. And then she dropped a bombshell. She mentioned, in what seemed like a passing comment that there was a cheque for about $90,000 in my name. The cheque was in her office and ready to pick up.

Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!

This was dumb to write a cheque. This amount was to remain in my home loan offset. I didn’t need this money as a cheque, cash, or anything else. This was an amount that was built into my home loan should I need cash for something in the future, but at the home loan interest rates.

The home loan interest is calculated on the amount that is borrowed. I had no intension of borrowing the full amount available to me, but now that a cheque has been issued the interest that will be calculated will be based on the full amount, rather than just the cost of the house. While these funds remained in the offset I would not be charged interest on them.

This offset amount was never actually intended to be borrowed. It was money for a rainy day; a kind of nest egg. However, now that a cheque has been issued I will be paying interest on an additional $90,000 that I have no need for. She said she “…was instructed by Virgin’s agent to draw all funds.” I find that difficult to believe. It was Virgin that had set up the offset. Surely, they knew what an offset was. Surely, they’d know they were going to send me a cheque book. Surely, they’d know I could write my own cheques whenever I wished. Whatever it was that happened between these two at settlement I’ll never know, but between the two of them they goofed badly, and stuffed me up into the bargain.

Put it back into the account, I said.
It can’t be done, the solicitor said.
Why not, I asked.
Because it’s in your name, she said.
I have no means to put it into my account, I said.
She said sorry.

Aggh!

Virgin Home Loans claim that one of the ways they keep their interest rates low is by having no shop front. With a bank you front up to one of their branch offices and carry out your business. With Virgin there is no branch office that you can visit to speak to someone from Virgin Money. Everything is done by phone, and if you want to make additional payments you go to your local Post Office with your special Virgin Home Loan ID card in hand and make the deposit, and your deposit gets directed into your account that’s encoded on the plastic card. This seems a simple process, and that’s how I would deposit the cheque into my home loan account. However, as a new customer Virgin Money hadn’t got around to sending this card. Without the card I can’t return the funds to my account. So, until the deposit card gets delivered I’m paying out more on interest than I need.

I think I just need to remind everyone about the people I’m dealing with: My home loan comes courtesy of Virgin Money who provided the cheque that I don’t need, and my solicitor who works with William Heague accepted this cheque without my instruction.

Both the lender and the solicitor appear to have shown little interest in my needs. Acted contrary to my wishes, in fact. You’d think with mobile phones someone might have spotted this whole situation as a bit odd, and thought, perhaps they should speak to me. But no, that was too difficult. Lazy sods. And to think these people bill for their services.

Wridgways - a hired help company

We were up early again, this time to pick up the rental truck. We had booked a rental tuck from Europcar pretty much like this one. It was almost brand new with less than 10,000 kms on the clock. Very impressive! Driving something this size was quite an experience, but it was automatic which helped markedly. This was a small truck by any real standards, but seemed huge to me. It gave me a whole new level of respect for the skills of truck drivers.

The removalists had arrived after we’d left to pick up the truck, and when we got back I spotted the men hanging about not doing anything. I asked why they hadn’t started work. “There was no one here,” someone said, “and didn’t know what to do.” It would seem that Emily didn’t pass on our message to the men to say we’d be late, picking up our rental truck, and that they should start without us. Emily seems incompetent. I’m beginning to hate Wridgeways.

At least the men were on site and ready to go. They had brought a utility with them, and the lolly-pop men had arrived too. The plan was to drive their ute to the top of the driveway, load it with stuff, and then drive it down the drive and to an adjacent street where the truck was parked, and from there they did a swap from the ute to the truck. And presumably, the lolly-pop men held slow signs when the ute was entering or leaving the driveway. They were slow at first as the ticketing was being completed and while they got used to driving up and down the drive, but the pace quickened.

It was a frantic day.

S cleared out the attic, and passed furniture and boxes down the stairs to me. Funny how I’d forgotten how things got up there in the first place, when trying to get things down. Were they assembled or disassembled prior to putting them up there? I was washing out compost bins, coiling up garden hoses, and collecting garden tools. A lot of this stuff should have been done before, but there didn’t seem to be time.

We have an antique wardrobe. A brilliantly conceived piece where the top, bottom, back, mirror, and doors all separate for transport, and everything is held together with specially made wooden wedges and brackets. The wardrobe fell apart as one of the men tried to disassemble it. He said he knew what to do, but obviously he didn't have a clue. Then someone carrying part of the disassembled wardrobe on his shoulder scraped the polished wooden surface of the linen press while walking through the hallway. Hired help.

I was following this guy and saw him scratching the woodwork. He was unaware of what he’d done. I quickly grabbed the trailing end of it to steady it as he went. “Have you been working for Wridways long?” I asked. “No, it’s my first time,” and added, “and it’ll probably be my last.” This was probably a rather good plan if people’s houses and property is to be protected from this guy's destructive approach. Wridgways were dumb for hiring such sloppy, inexperienced people.

I asked one of the men who looked like a foreman not to pack my wheel barrow and hand truck, as I’d be using them to shift the pot plants into our rental truck. And then I saw the wheel barrow and hand truck being packed. “Oh, you want to keep them do you,” the same guy questioned. Thick as a brick.

Then later they made lots of use of our hand truck, as well as their own? Okay, whatever helps. I asked them not to pack the table tennis table. It was going to be used in our rental truck, opened up as a large shelf to store items on top as well as underneath it. And then later I found it missing and already loaded. It was unloaded. I don’t think they were happy, but they didn’t seem to be listening. They had packed a dresser but had left its mirror behind.

I was up and down the driveway checking that they were taking the correct things. Every time I did this I'd see our rental truck parked across the road, doing nothing. And every time I saw it I thought: I'm paying for that and getting no use from it. That's because of Wridgways.

S had organised some morning tea and beer for men to snack on as they went, but few seem interested. I offered a cuppa to the lolly-pop men. They had a lonely job, afer all. One of them took up my offer, but I was dissappointed at the end of the day to discover that either the mug had been 'pocketed' or thrown away.

At the end of the day, Wridgways wanted to charge $40 for the rent of the witches’ hats that the lolly-pop men had put on the road. I refused to pay it. I don’t think S paid it. What was that about: let’s see if we can fleece these bunnies for more money. Oh, I really hate Wridgways.

As the removalist had finished early, I asked the lolly-pop men if they’d stay while I loaded my truck. No, they couldn’t help; they had been hired by Wridgways, and they all left together, but added that their contract started at 7.00am, and at 3.00pm they’d soon be on overtime. I wheel barrowed the pants across the street on my own.

I should say, in fairness, that I was carrying a particularly heavy pot plant down the drive on the hand truck. Perhaps it looked as though the weight was beyond me, and I got some help from this one guy. It was appreciated. He was a pleasant guy, but by and large the rest didn’t give a damn, and departed as soon as they could. Anyway, while both of us were pushing the hand truck across the street, I asked this guy what it was like working for Wridgways. “I don’t work for Wridgways. I’m a contractor,” he replied.

We finished packing our own truck just as nightfall hit. After a day like that, the last thing you want to do is a couple of hours of loading heavy pot plants. It was a great saving to have shifted the pots part way down the block on the day before.

So, with S in the MR2 and packed to the brim, and me in the truck we set off for Canberra. We were both tired and despite wanting to rest up we had to hit the road.

Wridgways - a stuff up

It was a late night yesterday. With the removalists due we didn’t get to bed until about 2.00am, but the garage was almost finished. And so, after a lousy sleep, worrying about everything we had an early rise, and up at 6.00am. The removalists were scheduled to arrive at 8.00am, so we had to make an early start.

Eventually the removalists came and they started to mark off various boxes and items in the garage. Then not so far into the morning there came a time when there was a lot of standing around happening by the workers. For some reason the activity of everyone had ground to a very slow pace. I asked one of the men, “How’s it going?” It was just a causal question with no particular deep and meaningful intent behind it. Though I guess I was surprised to see the guy leaning against the wall and not really doing anything. But the guy’s response caught me off guard, “I don’t know. It’s not up to me.”

Wow. Something was up. How come I didn’t know?

Then along came Mark De Lacy from Wridgways and made himself known to us. He said the uplift had been called off until some traffic control people could be organised, that is, called off until the next day. He spent a long time talking with us. He apologised, and explained the dangers and difficulties of this particular job.

The issue of concern was access to the block. Because the removalist truck couldn’t be driven into our driveway (we had a steep block) or parked at the side of the road next to the drive (there is no footpath, just an earthen gutter), and because the block was situated on a main road (which was almost true) that a different approach to the upload would have to be adopted.

Mark then went on to explain how our furniture would be transported. Perhaps he was trying to deflect our thoughts from a lost day. He said our container load of furniture would be shipped by train, and he could guarantee a freight booking and said our stuff would probably be in Canberra next week. He couldn’t say exactly when it would arrive, but definitely this month.

Emily rang. She was the grumpy Wridgways person who, the other day, said I shouldn’t call into the office without telephoning first. She said the local Council would provide a service that included some lolly-pop men for a fee of $900, which she wanted us to pay for. These would be the traffic control people.

I dug my heels in. We had a quote. I told Emily that the person who had provided the quote had seen the property. He had walked up the driveway and knew how steep it was, and had driven on our street to get to the property and knew how much traffic it carried. Surely if something was difficult it would have been included in the quotation. Emily said she would check the quotation, and rang off. I was annoyed the uplift had been cancelled. I was doubly annoyed that Emily was asking for more money, out of the blue. I hope my anger showed on that phone call. I was seeing red. I’d had enough of Wridgways.

I rang my workplace who had forced me to use Wridgways. Apparently, at least one other person was having trouble with Wridgways, and I was asked to provide a report of my experience with them when I got back. Apart from that request, I didn’t get much help other than sympathy from this person, as pleasant and understanding as she was. I asked if I could dump Wridgways right there and then and go with another company. We had had a quote from Dawkins Removals, but that was before I knew we had to go with my company’s preferred removalist. She said I could change removalists if I wished given the circumstances.

I rang Scott at Dawkins Removals to see if he could do the shift, but in the mean time Emily rang back and offered to split the cost. She said the Council would put on three men at $47.90 per hour, and half works out to be $453.70. That amount needed to be paid in cash on the day of uplift. If we didn’t pay the amount immediately the uplift wouldn’t take place. Does this sound like blackmail? Dawkins was willing to do the shift. They were more expensive, but had built in the various hazards they had recognised on our block, and would shift our pot plants too, but unfortunately could not come as soon as we needed them. Wridgways had us over a barrel. I told Emily that I’d pay the fee.

I also said to Emily that we would be leaving the house early on the next day to pick up a rental truck, and to pass on this information to the men doing the uplift. I emphasized the fact that the house would be empty but unlocked tomorrow and that the men should start work in our absence. We didn’t want further delays.

Our original plan, had things gone to plan, was to have the removalists to do the uplift today. We had banked on that, because we had booked a rental truck for the next day, and would be loading our rental truck throughout the next day, and had planned to drive off to Canberra when loaded, hopefully sometime in the afternoon. This was going to be a nuisance with the Wridgways people and us trying to load both trucks at the same time.

The removalist people departed.

S and I spent the rest of the day lunching at a restaurant in Eltham, trying to take our minds of this shemozzle. A little bit of pleasantness amongst the chaos. On the way back I called into a steel merchant and bought some steel bar to help in fixing some anchor points to the ute so that the camper van could be secured. I’m not looking forward to this job.

We also spent the afternoon shifting some plant pots in readiness for loading into our truck on the next day. Some of those pots felt like they were glued to the ground. I could barley budge some of them. To say nothing of trying to get them down the steps through the garage and down the driveway. The hand truck was invaluable. I'm glad I bought a heavy duty unit.

The legal stuff arrived

S did a stint of teaching at Monash. I returned a missing printer panel to a chap at East Bentleigh. I had sold an old printer to this guy on ebay, and months afterward realised there was a panel that had been left off, which made me feel bad. This was almost a year ago, and I only made this discovery while I was in Canberra. Anyway, this guy lived near to where I’d dropped S off. So, I paid him a visit while she was teaching. This chap was an enthusiast and bought the printer pretty much because it was a museum piece. He had collected a multitude of old computers some of which were quite impressive looking items.

We also spoke of the Monash University computer museum. He hadn’t seen it. It’s really a must see if you like that sort of thing. The museum has displays of calculating devices through the ages. Of all the items on display the one that got my attention and drew me up with a start was a terminal-come-printer of a type I had occasionally used when I was studying at uni. Things change quickly. Another interesting thing in one of their displays was an example of computer memory, which was essentially a wire spiral. I don’t really understand the principle involved in this, but presumably, by the time it took a charge to accumulate in the wire and dissipate, it stored the value for a short time. I wonder why a capacitor wouldn’t have done. An excellent display.

Melody called today. S made herself scarce, and I showed her around the garden and house, pointing out the various things, and gave her $350 for rent with our extended overstay. I said we’d leave the keys and garage door clickers on the bench.

A package of home loan documents (from Virgin Money’s solicitors) was sitting on top of the letterbox when we got back from Monash. Balanced precariously – thanks Australia Post. This was not a one or two page form to sign, but a massive bag of stuff to wade through. The swanky bag had “your home loan is in the bag” written on the side. Don’t you love it? I think it would have been fitting if instead the bag had the words, ‘we’ve put more hoops in the bag for you to jump through.’

A reading of the documents was more confusing than informative, but because it arrived late on Friday there was no time to contact anyone to clear up the issues. The document referred to monthly repayments – I wanted fortnightly repayments. They want insurance documentation for $210k, but I’ve already got insurance for $183k. And they want a rates notice! How could I possibly have a rates notice? I don’t live there yet. And they want an ID form sent via the Post Office. Most of the material they are asking for is in Canberra. I wish they’d said something to me before I drove down to Melbourne.

Tiffany dropped off the ute in the drive, but kept the ignition key. I gave her the cheque from the leasing company, and she completed the transfer of registration form, and passed that across with the RWC and car handbooks. This is step closer to actually having a car, but frustrating not to be given the ignition key. At least I can work on the ute and make a start to fitting the four anchor points that will secure the campervan that needs to go onto the ute. Everything is happening much slower than I’d like.