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HOPELESSLY OVERDUE. Fortune favours the devil in the hardhat.

By Alan Engelsman Adman, wordsmith, autobiographer of Life’s a Blik.

“Where in the world would one find a humble farmhouse dwelling well seated within the confines of a walled-in security estate? Only in Africa.”

HOPELESSLY OVERDUE is not your everyday ‘how to’ book. In all honesty, it may better be described as a ‘how not to’ book. For while the author has studiously documented the pains and pitfalls of buying into a Plot & Plan new property development, the lessons learnt are not what to do. But rather, through bitter personal experience, the reader is enlightened on what not to do.

The journey into the story behind HOPELESSLY OVERDUE is a four-year one that takes us back in time to the tail end of the global financial crisis of 2008 and early 2009. But the painful memory of what transpired was just that vivid it took the author a mere nine weeks to pen the entire book.

HOPELESSLY OVERDUE is not a book you would instinctively recommend to a seasoned property buyer; it’s a more of a personal notebook than an investor guide. To be frank, it offers no advise on how to make money in property. In the words of the author: “HOPELESSLY OVERDUE is not a literary piece that is likely to be shortlisted for any creative book writing prize. But it sure gets the Guinness Book of Records award for the longest build time for a humble three-bedroomed home.”

This book is likely to upset many an honest builder in the construction industry.

And it will probably get banished from the bookshelves of real estate agencies all over the land.

That said, HOPELESSLY OVERDUE makes a compelling read for prospective first time homeowners.

INDEX

• • • • •

• • • • • •

Swimming upstream - a global financial crisis was looming thanks to subprime properties collapsing in the USA. But hey, not in South Africa.

Show Days - now property for sale can be viewed in the comfort of your lounge, bedroom or study. Online 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.

Persuasive estate agents - what you see is not what you get. And it’s not what you see that really matters; it’s what you don’t see.

No deposit. No problem – introducing the next best thing to sliced banana and honey on a lightly toasted ciabatta: The Deposit Advantage.

The one-sided building contract - everything the reasonable man would come to expect is laid out in black and white. But contracts from new build developers are not written for your average, reasonable man.

Research of two – having done it all before, twice, sets up a powerful reassurance that nothing can go wrong. That was the first mistake.

Title Deeds – holding legal ownership of the erf it was now safe to assume the corner had been turned on this project. That was the second mistake.

The Dark Ages - tears, prayers and endless despair. 24 odd months that seemed like a lifetime penal sentence into the darkest depths of hell.

Hout Bay to Hemel-en-Aarde just outside Hermanus – one hour forty-five minutes drive exactly. Turn back when you see signs to Harare.

Our 3rd Anniversary - another annus horriblus and still no end in sight.

With nothing to celebrate, the champagne never leaves the fridge.

Home Sweet Home - mercifully, an end to the agony that is Plot & Plan.

Three years, two months and 22 days later.

CHAPTER 1: Swimming upstream - a global financial crisis was looming thanks to sub-prime properties collapsing in the USA. But hey, not in South Africa.

The year was 2010. It was October and the sun had just begun to shine with the promise of another joyful summer. The temperature of the home pool, at a lowly 19°, was still on the chilly side but in I jumped. Swimming was never my strongest sport despite living at the coast, yet I relished any opportunity to cool off in the sweltering heat of a Cape Town summers day. Be it in the privacy of my home pool or in the sea. After all, the lure of the surf at Llandudno’s balmy beach was no more than a stone’s throw away.

Swimming against the tide, or upstream, as the business pundits would say, is not for the faint hearted. In particular, when you try to swim against the forceful tide and hefty swells of global economics.

2010 was the year South Africa played host to the international Fifa World Cup Soccer event. By all accounts it was a huge success. With ten new football stadiums all around the country, it had to be. Now we just have to find a way to pay for them – but that’s another story.

For me, 2010 will be remembered in the history books - certainly the economic history books - for many a year to come. For it was early in this year that the effects of the collapse of the sub-prime properties of the United States back in 2008 first began to show their warning signs on our economy. A catastrophic set of circumstances that got out of control, creating a worldwide financial credit crunch with devastating results in financial markets all across the globe. Those in the know claimed the state of the economies of the world were at their worst since the Great Depression of the 1920’s.

South Africa, although largely spared from the crisis thanks to our domestic frugal fiscal policies and mineral wealth generating resources, was cast into an economic recession in the third quarter of 2009 for the first time in 17 years.

By all accounts, now was not a good time to buy property. Not in the USA, not in the UK, not anywhere in Europe. But South African property is good. Property in South Africa, after all, never loses its value. This I truly believed with all my heart and soul.

Historically, property had always been like gold to me. I recall with fond memories the day I first arrived in Cape Town way back in early 1987. I was embarking on a new career path in the advertising world and arrived with nothing more than a small suitcase of clothing and a few bob in my pocket. I did however, have the fortunate back up of a thousand rand loan from my mother.

With my new working career kicking off the very next day, I was housed at company expense in the very hospitable Townhouse Hotel in the gardens district on the east side of town.

But I was keen to settle down in my new job by acquiring my own domicile as soon as I could. Paying rent was not ideal. Unfortunately my financial position was such that I was left with no alternative. So I found myself a small apartment in Three Anchor Bay and paid the landlord’s mortgage for the next six months. It was killing me to pay rent, but I was determined to give notice as soon as I could.

Six months later I had saved just enough money to pay a 5% deposit on my first property. A brand spanking new two-bedroomed townhouse, with white washed walls and a terracotta tiled roof, in a locale called Marina da Gama in the holiday suburb of Muizemberg.

It’s a residential area built on the low-lying land next to the estuary waters of the Black river; a very luring hotspot for water sports enthusiasts. The joy and pride of owning my first home was an experience that was never forgotten. It played a major role in my life for many years to come.

As luck would have it, my newfound life on the water in the Marina was like heaven. But, to my dismay, the traffic driving into town every weekday morning was an absolute nightmare. Clearly I had been spoilt with having very little or no real traffic to speak of with the drive into town from the flat in Three Anchor Bay. I certainly was not prepared for what I soon realised was the daily norm for commuters from Lakeside, Muizemberg, Kalk Bay, Fish Hoek and Simons Town further south.

Now, several years later, I am much more aware of the influence of traffic on one’s decision to buy a home or not. For starters, you would not find me living in the northern suburbs and having to commute into town central and back everyday. It’s just not an option, not even if you paid me. It’s just so congested its an accident waiting to happen.

A good friend of mine just recently gave up his bells and whistles home in the Atlantic Beach golf estate on the West Coast, to rent a home in the southern suburbs. Although he did say it was a financial offer he could not refuse, the primary reason to move was that the traffic getting the kids to school and back home again was depressing them. And piling on the mileage in an economy of ever increasing petrol prices was seriously hurting the pocket.

From Hout Bay on the other hand, along the Atlantic coastline through to Camps Bay and over Kloof Nek into town, has been my daily commute for the past two decades. And it’s been a breeze. It must rate as one of the most scenic and pleasurable road trip commuter routes in South Africa. I am going to stick my neck out here and say it probably competes with anywhere in the world. Now that I think about it, I’ve been truly blessed living in the republic.

But I transgress. Back to buying property.

2010 was a not a good year to buy property. Despite all the signals pointing to a looming economic downturn, not only in South Africa but also worldwide, I just had to swim upstream.

The City of Cape Town had recently released the new rates for our home in Hout Bay; an increase that was well beyond the rate of inflation. It was clear they were going all out to haul in the cash to help pay for the legacy of the 2010 Fifa World Cup – our iconic white elephant in the room - Green Point Stadium.

I remember saying to my wife Sonja “This is just the beginning. From now we will see above inflation increases in our rates and taxes every year until the day we die.

Or ‘til the stadium is paid off, whichever comes first.”

It was a real worry for me personally. My access to income was dwindling fast.

The advertising industry in South Africa had been very good to me up until now.

But with existing clients closing doors and others dramatically reducing budgets, I just knew the good old days left in the industry was being severely curtailed.

It was time to retire. And with it, find a smaller home preferably outside of the high rate-paying municipal borders of the City of Cape Town.

It was time to make my move to the country.

CHAPTER 2: Show Days - now property for sale can be viewed in the comfort of your lounge, bedroom or study. Online 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.

On the 12th of October 2010, my wife and I signed on the dotted line for a plot and plan new build opportunity in a housing development called Hemelhof, a secure village of Cape country styled townhouses in the Hemel-en-Aarde Estate, just outside Hermanus.

To be perfectly frank, it was never the plan. Prior to that day, discussions around investing in a new build had never even been considered. And we had never seen or heard of the Hemelhof development either.

House hunting began in earnest in my study come home office sometime in July earlier that year. I regularly peruse the property supplements - tabloid pages filled with hundreds of homes for sale all over the Cape peninsula - of our local weekend newspaper the Cape Argus. It’s very much part of my Saturday routine along with mowing the lawn, walking the dog, buying the newspaper all before retiring to the couch to watch the afternoon’s sport on television.

This particular Saturday was no different. My keen eye for a bargain property had me cutting out several possibilities from Grotto Bay on the west coast to Riebeeck West in the north, to Barrydale in the east. Even as far as Prince Albert in the Klein Karoo. At that stage of our house hunting it was a case of anywhere in the country will do, as long as it got us out of the clutches of the money making municipal rates of the City of Cape Town.

I even considered taking out a subscription to Country Life magazine. Such was my desire to get the hell out of the metropolitan city life of Cape Town.

Anyway, most of the property press advertisements advertise the estate agent’s contact details in the form of a telephone number or email address. The more advanced agencies also include a website reference. The real digital gurus even offer you a virtual tour of your selected house, so you get to view the home inside and out. From the comfort of your home study, lounge, poolside, coffee shop, doctor’s waiting room you name it.

These days, in addition to the real estate professionals, we have a host of sites like Property24 and Private Property that specialize only in real estate, both sales and rentals. And each has literally hundreds of homes listed on their ‘free to advertise’ websites. With all these options, choice becomes one’s biggest enemy.

And Show Days become an everyday affair. It’s just a case of setting aside some time, going online and checking out the house of your dreams on the Internet.

The trouble with all this online property shopping and virtual tour house hunting is that it becomes awfully addictive. And hugely time consuming at that.

To the point where very soon one finds oneself laptop besotted, constantly online with eyes down looking. Sometimes looking at homes you would never ever want to buy. In locations you would never ever want to live. And often, I’m ashamed to admit, I found myself looking at homes we definitely could not afford. But I looked on longingly anyway.

In a word I found it all rather depressing. And this carried on for months on end, right through the better part of 2010. If I wasn’t working on some copy, or watching a football match, you could be sure I was looking at property.

Naturally, one builds up a shortlist of your favourite property sites - with your favourite locations already identified - that dramatically reduces the time needed to keep abreast of any new listings. Aida Real Estate agents in Onrus were one of them. It was on just such a Saturday afternoon that I stumbled across a brand new home being advertised in Vermont. A fairly upmarket, beachfront suburb and just ten minutes drive from the heart of Hermanus central business district.

Being a home in the price bracket that we were shopping for, I immediately called the agent to see if we could arrange a viewing sometime during the coming week. As luck would have it, the agent was out viewing with a client so I was asked to leave a message and my contact details. Later that afternoon I received the return call. It was not what I was wanting to hear.

Apparently, the agents had not yet had an opportunity to update their website but it should not have listed that particular property in Vermont as it was already under offer. Damn it – so it was back to the drawing board!

The agent did try to interest me in another home on their books, but I politely declined. I certainly was not going to drive all the way to Onrus to view a home that I had not personally selected. But to his credit, he did persuade me to give him my telephone number, which I did. At the time, I thought nothing of it.

Some two to three weeks later he called me. Low and behold, the home we were interested in – the brand new home in Vermont – was back on the market. The buyer, an investor from Gauteng, was unable to get the mortgage he was hoping for and promptly withdrew his offer to purchase. Hence the call from the agent.

Caught totally unawares by this latest development, I was slow to react and probably came across totally disinterested. Two days later, I happened to mention the call to Sonja and she was a little miffed by my non-performance. To put it mildly. She mobilized me to call the agent back and arrange a viewing.

That same week we were almost in the car and on our way to view the home when – Murphy’s Law – the agent called again. This time with the bad news that another offer had been put on that same home. An offer that according to the agent was more than likely to be accepted by the seller.

So once again, our interest in the home came to nothing.

Boy, talk about a dog with a Frisbee in its mouth. This agent guy was not going to let us go quietly into the night. I certainly admired his persistence. That same day, if I recall correctly, he emailed me some info with colour photos and architects drawings of a new development in Onrus. The marketing show house has just been completed and he was keen for us to come and take a viewing. As it turns out, my wife and I quite liked what we saw in the email.

So it was a week later, with Milo our staffie dog (the third member of the family) safely bedded on the back seat, we found ourselves taking a drive to Hermanus – well Onrus to be exact. It’s precisely one hour forty-five minutes from Hout Bay to Hermanus. The drive was quick and rather eventless. A positive omen I guess and a welcome start to our buying expedition for a dream home in the country.

We found the Aida Real Estate agency offices at first attempt. The agent was there ready and waiting so we said our hellos and he promptly lead us to the site of the new housing development a mere few blocks away. Because we had Milo in the car, we followed him in our own vehicle. Not that Milo is a ferocious man eating animal - it’s just that he does not take too kindly to visitors. And for some unknown reason especially not in the family car. He once snapped at an estate agent who dared to stretch her arm through an open passenger side window into our car…enough said.

I guess Milo was never comfortable with us out house hunting. Or, with his ultra keen senses, he instinctively knew something about estate agents that we didn’t.

CHAPTER 3: Persuasive estate agents - what you see is not what you get. And it’s not what you see that really matters; it’s what you don’t see.

Our first viewing of a show house in a new housing development in Onrus did not exactly go according to plan. Mainly, I guess, because neither my wife nor I were in those early stages of our house hunting totally committed to the Overberg region. Never mind Onrus.

Whale country was never really in the radar of possible towns or perfect locations to find our dream retirement home, but we tried to approach the entire process with an open mind.

For starters, we knew very little about the seaside resort of Onrus. We knew it was a holiday hotspot in the late 60’s and early 70’s when the idea of a little getaway home at the coast was enjoying its heydays. What attracted investors to Onrus was that it has a really good swimming beach, in steady rolling ocean waves that was really good for body surfing. And in water that was a whole lot warmer than Clifton or Llandudno where I usually took a dip.

No wonder the whales just love it.

Besides the beach, and whale watching, Onrus did not have much more to offer.

Any commercial development was limited to one or two shops in small retail properties – mainly occupied by estate agents – and already looking like they were in need of a year 2010 upgrade. Certainly there were no modern centres with any of the major retail brands as anchor tenants.

It seemed to me the people of Onrus were quite content to remain a holiday resort and left the upscaling of commercial developments to the neighbourly Hemel-en-Aarde village. Not that that whole area is totally void of any modernization - to the contrary. The town of Hermanus already boasts a brand new Woolworths store that is way better than that which we support locally in Hout Bay. Hemel-en-Aarde, we understand, is also in line to get a brand new Checkers centre, which we are told will become the brand’s national flagship store. All credit no doubt to the retail giant’s CEO, Mr Whitey Basson, having his long-standing holiday home in Hermanus.

And Onrus was not more than a ten-minute drive away. With any shopping concerns that we may have had now clearly out of the way, we turned our attention to the show house. A single dwelling structure in a high wall enclosed property in a suburban street, not more than a block away from the infamous Onrus beach. The agent led the way.

The house was clearly newly built. The smell of fresh drying paint was the first thing to hit us when we stepped inside. The colour palette was a neutral 5 shades of grey throughout, from living spaces to kitchen and bathrooms. The house was empty of any soft furnishings and a total blank canvas for potential homebuyers.

Some would find that appealing, many don’t. It was the kind of home you do not show first time buyers – simply because they would probably battle to visualize the home furnished.

But that never put me, or my wife Sonja, off. Sonja, after all, was a self-taught interior decorator, with several years at Biggie Best interiors behind her name.

We actually prefer an open plan layout as a clean slate. It provides us the opportunity to plan our own living quarters keeping existing furniture and our personal, more relaxed way of life in mind.

We were not wowed.

The show house was nice, but not a showstopper. It was a tad cold with wall-towall tiling, void of any focal point or outstanding design features. To be frank, it was bordering on bland. Definitely needed a fireplace or something. Knowing that we could do better, we thanked the agent for his time and the viewing. I think intuition or an inner voice told him we were not bowled over by what we had seen…so he asked if we would like to see something else.

Naturally, I was curious enough to enquire what exactly he had in mind.

“I have another show house I can let you see in Hemel-en-Aarde just a five minute drive from here” he said, “which may appeal to you more because of what the estate has to offer. Clubhouse with fully equipped gym, swimming pool, squash court and two tennis courts.”

Tennis courts? Now we’re talking. Tennis was my first love. Sorry, after my wife Sonja, tennis was my first love. Sonja and I in our younger days both played Western Province league for Camps Bay tennis club, and were definitely keen to have access to a tennis court every now and then. Especially if it was there to be used and enjoyed right on our doorstep, long into our retirement years.

So off we went to the show house in Hemelhof, a village of dark charcoal tin roofed townhouses in the secure estate of Hemel-en-Aarde. As it so happened, the agent was right on two accounts. This estate was exactly a five-minute drive from Onrus. And the estate’s lifestyle facilities with Olympic sized swimming pool and clubhouse bar were a knockout!

Our introduction to Hemel-en-Aarde Estate came with our first meeting of the developer (Mr B the builder) and another estate agent from Chas Everitt (agent CE). A local agent for several years, agent CE and Mr B the builder - we were later to discover - were in fact both resident homeowners in the estate. As we disembarked from the car in the parking lot outside the estate’s clubhouse, trying hard not to look too excited, they welcomed us to Hemelhof.

Agent CE and our agent from Onrus had a quick chat in private while Sonja and I took Milo for a walk and a tree watering. We then gave Milo a drink of water and returned him to the backseat of the car – by now his second home.

The first thing Sonja noticed was the entire village of estate homes was devoid of any high garden walls and ugly electric fencing. Something we were all too aware of back in Hout Bay where cocooning oneself and your home from the outside world had become the norm. It prompted me to ask the agent the million-dollar question…

“What’s the crime like here in Hemel-en-Aarde?”

“What crime?” she was quick to reply.

“This particular estate has not had a single house break-in incident reported in the nine years that I have known it. And I have sold quite a few homes here and have come to befriend some of the residents on a personal level. So believe me when I tell you, crime here is not a problem.”

Music to my ears, as they say in the classics. I was clearly impressed.

Which prompted my second question…

“I guess people pay a fortune in levies to live in such a secure estate?”

“The monthly levies here are very reasonable,” replied agent CE. “Bearing in mind the clubhouse and other facilities on offer,” she quickly added.

“The estate has a 7km walking trail without steeping outside the boundary walls, which makes it all very secure” came her final word on the matter of security.

More importantly, the new show house definitely did not disappoint. It was one of two duplex, freestanding homes with direct access double garage and open plan interiors. The show homes had a definite Cape farmstyle feel to them. The kind of home Sonja and I always imagined we would be buying in the country – except here it was cleverly nestled in a well maintained, 24 hour access controlled, security estate.

With its own 7km long walking trail.

We loved the entrance with central stairwell leading to an open plan layout upstairs. We loved the basic finishes. All three bedrooms were of a good size. The bathrooms seemed perfect. We definitely loved the views with the mountains to the west and a glimpse of the sea to the south. And I was financially delighted by the developer’s asking price for a home of this quality and caliber of new build.

We were pretty much smitten by the whole set-up.

Our agent from Onrus knew he had struck gold. It showed on our faces for all to see. Given the opportunity to move in there and then we probably would have.

We then all went back to the estate’s clubhouse to look at the architect’s plans and the plots still available within the Hemelhof development. It took us fifteen minutes to pick our plot of choice, which we duly did. With our coffee cups now cold, our selected plot on ‘reserve’, we happily thanked everybody for their time and said our goodbyes.

Armed with a copy of the architect’s house plans for our chosen plot, the drive home to Hout Bay that afternoon went even quicker than the arrival trip – which included a quick stop over at The Farmstall en route for a coffee and another tree watering for Milo. Plus a small, foreign tourist priced packet of droe wors to take home, naturally.

Tummy now satisfied, the day was rewarding. That morning we had seen something that was potentially perfect, clearly well within our affordability, ticking all the boxes possibly even beyond our own high level of expectations.

Undeniably the desire to relocate lock, stock and barrel was burning bright.

CHAPTER 4: No deposit. No problem – introducing the next best thing to sliced banana and honey on a lightly toasted ciabatta: The Deposit Advantage.

Following our first country trip to Hermanus, it took Sonja and I literally no more than a few days to peruse the house plans again and decide we were happy to buy. So we called agent CE to arrange for us to do the legal issues - signing the Offer To Purchase and the Building Contract. As she had friends in Cape Town she wished to visit, she kindly agreed to come to our home in Hout Bay and to bring the necessary paper work with her.

On the Monday morning of the following week, agent CE called to confirm her appointment with us and to clarify the directions to our home in Hout Bay. No turning back now I guess. This was it – we were buying into a plot and plan new build development in Hermanus.

A joint signing of the Offer To Purchase was all pretty straight forward. Sonja and I handed agent CE a copy of our ID documents, a copy of our marriage certificate and proof of residence for Fica registration purposes. Because the offer was subject to the sale of our house in Hout Bay, we were expected to pay 10% of the purchase price to secure the plot. On a R1.9 million rand purchase for the plot and plan contract, this amounted to some R190 000.

The money we had, but I was concerned about the clause in the Offer To Purchase that said something along the lines of the deposit is forfeited if the buyer (us) decided not to proceed with the transfer for any reason whatsoever.

Now in theory one has to try and understand the reason for the inclusion of this clause from the developer’s point of view where he could be saddled with half a dozen or more cancelled contracts long after he has started developing. But in our case we were very dependent upon selling our home in Hout Bay first, before we were able to start building. So this clause was deeply troubling.

The last thing we could afford was to lose R190 000!

Needless to say, we signed everything and agreed we would pay our 10% deposit by the stipulated date - just 7 days after the date of signing.

Now neither Sonja nor I are overly religious, but I do live by the belief that if you ask him nicely The Lord works for you in strange ways. For during this period the 7 days allocated to coming good with the cash - I stumbled across an advertisement that caught my attention. It was for a homebuyer’s deposit scheme by a company by the name of The Deposit Advantage.

A truly innovative and much needed scheme that did not require homebuyers to fork out large sums of cash for a deposit until transfer. Merely the cash to cover the insurance costs of that deposit.

Just what the doctor ordered. Having read the advertisement several times, I decided to Google the company – which simply reiterated what was being offered in their print advert. So I clicked on contact and sent them an email of my details. Within the hour I had return mail with an application form to be completed, which I duly did and returned it back to them.

Next came a telephone call acknowledging receipt of my application and advising me the process takes no more three to four days to confirm or reject my application. This is where it became a little scary, as I had to reassure Deposit Advantage that we had the money for the full purchase price – regardless of the offer being subject to the sale of our house in Hout Bay. So in reality, I had gone from needing R190 000 as a 10% deposit to needing the full amount of the purchase price - R1.9 million.

Now what?

Back to The Lord. This time for some kind of financial miracle!

Low and behold, again He came through for us. And still within the original seven day allotted grace period. This time in the form of a letter from Credit Suisse Bank in Switzerland acknowledging Sonja’s inheritance money. Money that, since the death of her late father some years prior, we had not been successful in accessing or transferring to a bank in South Africa. Not surprisingly, we had all but given up hope of ever seeing a cent of it.

But the bank’s letter of acknowledgement that the money was still there was good enough for Deposit Advantage. I do believe they even called the Credit Suisse Bank to verify it. Good for them…and great for us. Now we could proceed with the Deposit Advantage insurance plan.

On the exact day that our deposit was due to be paid over to the developer, Deposit Advantage sent them the necessary legal papers. Papers that freed us from having to layout the R190 000 deposit in cash. And eliminated that fear of losing the entire deposit should we not manage to sell our house in time.

Astonishingly the whole exercise - for a six-month insurance cover until we could acquire transfer of the plot and commence building – cost us a little over seven thousand rand.

What a score!

Since that day I’ve become a Deposit Advantage brand ambassador. Now whenever I get the chance, I jump at the opportunity to tell others about the Deposit Advantage and how it helps homebuyers with the upfront deposit saga in the home buying process.

Check it out for yourself at www.depositadvantage.co.za If ever there was an innovative financial idea that I wish I had thought of – The Deposit Advantage is surely it.

CHAPTER 5: The one-sided building contract - everything the reasonable man would come to expect is laid out in black and white. But contracts from new build developers are not written for your average, reasonable man.

The Latin term for it all is caveat emptor – let the buyer beware.

In simple English this means…you bought it, now you’re stuck with it. If you’ve never seen it before, you probably never will. Mainly because it’s usually written in Latin only. And it’s not to be found anywhere except in the small print in some obscure place at the bottom of the page of a small book like document called a legal contract.

Okay, I’m exaggerating. But not by much.

You will find it in a clause printed clearly in black and white somewhere between pages 5 and 15 of the Terms and Conditions of the 20 odd page contract.

See it? Still not…okay, sorry, try page 16.

I hope I’ve made my point. Read all contracts in good light and with grave suspect. Unless you’re a seasoned lawyer, or property broker, or estate agent – and often not even the estate agent that sold you the property – you are unlikely to understand all the terms and conditions from a once off read. In fact, many an unsuspecting homebuyer will not fully understand the terms and conditions even after a second or a third read.

It’s not our job to grasp the underlying meanings of legal jargon.

So we pretend we know it all…and move on. To hell with the consequences.

We’ll deal with them if and when they happen. Let’s just sign the damn papers!

Sound familiar. You are not alone…until the proverbial hits the fan. Then everybody tells you how stupid you were not to question this in the first place.

Or how could you sign this with such a clause in it? Surely you should have seen this clause is there only to protect the seller’s interests.

Should…would…could have…only if. It’s all too often too little too late.

Here’s my case in point.

The developer (the seller) of a Plot and Plan housing scheme issues instructions to his legal team – it’s all above board naturally – to include or exclude any terms and conditions that he the developer sees fit. With no prior consultation with the buyer, or the buyer’s interests, regardless of whom you are or what your circumstances may be.

So, understandably, it ends up being a very one-sided contract.

Ah ha I hear you say. But now, as a buyer, we have the law on our side in the form of the Consumers Act and the National Credit Act. Really? Try bringing a developer to book or taking a developer to court for him not meeting the terms and conditions of his own building contract – if you dare.

More often that not, it’s not what is in the contract that completely snuffs you. It’s what’s expressly excluded from the contract. Like a simple date of completion.

Heaven forbid that a buyer would want the developer to commit to a finish date.

In legal terms I guess that is what would be regarded as unreasonable.

Our building contract made it very clear, in black and white, for the reasonable man to read and understand, that there can be no legal action against the developer or his builder/s in the event of any reasonable delays in the building process caused by municipal property administration, adverse weather conditions, building supply delays or base material shortages or for any other reason whatsoever.

The million dollar legal issue here is simply this. What is the legal definition of a reasonable delay? Three weeks, three months, or perhaps, even three years.

The quick answer is…I don’t know.

The truth of the matter is…I should have known when I signed that damn building contract. Caveat emptor remember!

CHAPTER 6: Research of two – having done it all before, twice, sets up a powerful reassurance that nothing can go wrong. That was the first mistake.

This was not the first time Sonja and I were buying into a Plot and Plan new build development. We had done it all before way back in 2002. We purchased into a new security estate development in Kronenzicht, Hout Bay called Villa di Legno.

Then too, if I recall correctly, we were wowed by a small corner plot with readymade plans and the opportunity to own a brand new home. A home that we could customize in terms of the developer’s contract with finishes to our very own style and taste, working within the budget parameters provided naturally.

We paid a little extra for a swimming pool.

We even pushed our luck and bought townhouse number 13. And the entire process was as smooth as silk. Four or five months later we moved into our new home and were as happy as a dog with a milk carton. (If you could see our staffie Milo completely devour an empty milk carton with the scent a few teaspoons of yoghurt inside, you will know exactly what I mean.)

Inspired by the success of this plot and plan project I decided to do it all again just three and a half years later. This time I bought a plot and a plan with no developer involved. I worked directly with a builder and built Sonja and I another new home – just up the road from our existing townhouse – also in a security estate called Kronenzicht Villas.

This time I literally and physically lived the experience with site visits almost daily. I learnt about foundation piling, a term I had never heard of before this, and had site meetings with construction engineers, soil advisors and municipal inspectors. To ensure I had the money to complete the project, I even commissioned the services of a quantity surveyor and managed my own PC budget for interior fixtures and finishes. I loved the hands on involvement.

Second time around it took us six to seven months to complete the project before we received our certificate of occupation. And to top it all, the builder and I had a great working relationship and were still on good speaking terms at the end of that mammoth undertaking.

So how different can it be in Hermanus?

Let me answer that question for you immediately.

In a word – inexpressibly. Like chalk and cheese. Like stripes and polka dots.

The fact that I had learnt what I did in the building of our current home, did not prepare me for what was to come in any meaningful way at all. With two successful new builds under my belt, the experience gained was proving to be absolutely worthless.

It still astounds me that I was so ill equipped to handle the mental angst and tsunami of new build incompetence that was to be our living hell for the next three years.

For starters, the Plot & Plan contract was signed subject to the sale of our house in Hout Bay. As luck would have it, we did not sell our house by due date. But having the Deposit Advantage insurance in place for another three months, I thought nothing much would come of it. I would merely have to extend the offer to purchase for a further three months.

Wrong.

Unbeknown to us, without any prior consultation other than a telephone call to enquire whether we had sold our house yet or not, agent CE or Mr B the builder, or both, promptly handed our chosen property to another buyer.

To say that we were pissed off would be an understatement.

But a lesson well learnt. Never assume. Assumptions involve doubt, and doubt leads to mistakes. Mistakes can often work for or against you. More often than not it’s the latter, as it did in our case.

So our dream of a brand new home in Hemel-en-Aarde was shattered in a single telephone call.

But as it so happened, not for long. Agent CE came back to us that same week with the news that a vacant erf immediately behind the one that we selected was now on the market. Would we like to come and see it?

What a question. The very next week Sonja, Milo and I were back to Hermanus to go check out a second plot. This time a lot more mindful of the whole process and more prepared for what to expect. And do.

The plot was roughly of the same dimensions as the original, but being located higher up on the mountain slope, it offered much better views. The Kogelberg coastal mountain range to the west and a glimpse of the Indian Ocean to the south. Pretty damn impressive vista I thought.

Although south facing entrance, the home would have the potential of uninterrupted north facing sun, in both summer and winter. And the existence of a no-build land servitude on the west boundary of our plot blessed us with having only one neighbour to talk of. Another plus point if you value your privacy as much as Sonja and I definitely do.

So all was good. Things turned out rather well. We lost the plot of our choice, but gained a plot of much the same size in arguably a better location. Lady luck was smiling on us – so once again we signed an Offer to Purchase. (Truth be told, we merely changed the erf number of our original contract and co-signed the amendment.) Now all we had to do was to notify Deposit Advantage of the change in erf number, which we duly did.

That afternoon we left the Hemel-en-Aarde Estate feeling very chuffed with ourselves. We had secured a new plot. We had come away armed with a copy of the house plans for the new plot. And we had renewed enthusiasm and a spring in our step for turning our dream of a home in the country into a reality.

It was short lived.

Mr B the builder was committed to building at least two other homes before ours was to be even started. Not a problem we thought. Afterall, we were still tying to sell our house – which by the way – we had never removed from the market throughout this whole ordeal of a change in plot. Although it played on my mind that we would be stranded without a home to live in if we sold our house now.

The thought of moving home twice, once out of our home in Hout Bay, and again only once the new home is built, was not an option.

In hindsight, we can thank our lucky stars the house never sold. Mr B the builder was not going to start on our new home until the plot had been transferred into our name. Understandable I guess. No point in building a home for new owners who are not yet the rightful owners of the plot.

Registration takes no more than six to eight weeks we were told. So only one or two months delay before building commences. Which, given the need to first sell our house, would be a period of time most welcomed.

How wrong can one be?

CHAPTER 7: Title Deeds – holding legal ownership of the plot it was now safe to assume the corner had been turned on this project. That was the second mistake.

We paid for our plot – the second one of choice - in cash: with a land valuation price of R500 000. We also paid the building deposit of 10% of the build contract price – a further R140 000.

Then to top it all, lured by a 10% reduction in the contract price, a month later we paid the developer a further R660 000. The building contract was revised to show the new contract price accordingly. By now we had committed a total of R1.3 million to the project. The plot money was electronically transferred to the developer’s lawyers to hold in trust until transfer, and the build money was transferred into Mr B the builder’s personal trust account via the lawyers.

It all seemed legally above board and standard practise.

The six-week deadline for registration came and went in a flash. So did eight weeks. And still not a word from the developer’s legal team with regard to a confirmed date for submission and registration.

I emailed them again. There are some unanticipated municipal administration delays came the reply.

This being Hermanus, a holiday town in the country, I thought nothing of it. So I accepted the feeble excuse and never thought to question them further. Another big mistake. I should have got into my car, driven to their offices in the northern suburbs, and demanded a full explanation as to the delay.

But I didn’t.

Several months later we were still waiting. And nothing had been done on our plot apart from clearing the site. Not a foundation stone or brick had been laid.

It was only then that I by chance discovered that Mr B the builder was in fact the owner of this plot. I was lead to believe this was a resale. Clearly, it had never been sold and was still in the name of the developer’s trust company that purchased the entire village called Hemelhof. It was a little disturbing that this was never declared upfront. To be totally frank, I was miffed that for some or other reason the truth of the matter had been kept a secret.

That’s when all sorts of excuses started to abound as to why the municipality would not authorize the transfer. Outstanding vat payments on the erf, to a backlog in levies, to incorrect ID documents – you name it, we heard it. We even got agent CE involved to try help and assist us verify the reasons for the delay.

Speculations were abounding.

Meanwhile, Sonja and I started to have grave concerns that we had inherited a problem child. A R1.3 million problem child!

Everybody else was building all around us yet we were still to be granted legal ownership of our plot. It was extremely frustrating not knowing how and when we were going to fast-forward the process.

So we just put our faith in the legal system.

Truth be told, I actually went to bed on several occasions hoping and praying that tomorrow will be the day. We cried several times. There was many a night I did not sleep well. In hindsight, the only reassurance we had was our belief that the money we had paid for the plot was safe and sound in a holding trust fund.

We did not have the same reassurance for the building money – the larger portion of the deposits paid.

What if the developer’s legal partners were in cahoots? What if the money was never deposited into a trust? Heaven forbid, but similar stories have been told in the media before. Please Lord not us.

The very next morning I sent the lawyers another email. This time the reply came back with an attachment. A copy of the acknowledgement of payment of the plot by us and proof of a bank deposit into their property trust account. I slept a little easier that night.

Another few months on and still no transfer date.

Ten months down the line - from the original date of the payments - we received notification our application for transfer had been lodged. It then took a further three weeks or so to get the registration done. Finally, on the 23 October 2012, we received notification that our plot was now legally ours.

Almost a year later and we still had not a single brick laid.

But, with the Title Deeds now safely in our possession, we looked forward to the foundations being laid and the build to start in earnest without any further delays. By now we were into November. And once again, for some unknown reason, our home was coming in second or third place. It was more important to finish the homes under construction so that Mr B the builder could focus on our home in the new year. That being January 2012.

The Christmas and New Year of 2011 was not a happy time for us. We were feeling pretty much neglected and ill treated. The excessive delays in the transfer process was draining and the mental strain on our overall wellbeing was starting to show its signs. My relationship with Mr B the builder had gone from overtly friendly to skeptically unnerving. He still had R800 000 of our money and not a cent had been spent on building the house.

Any financial gain from the promised discount had by now more than lost its windfall value. The developer, needless to say, enjoyed the benefit of the interest on our money for nearly a year.

I started house hunting way back in October 2010.

We received our Deed of Transfer in October 2011.

It was now November and the only work on site that had been completed was the mapping of the foundations. No cement or brick building had yet begun.

From now on I promised myself that I will do everything in my power to speed up the build and stay one step ahead of the builder in everything that needs to be processed, or project managed by myself in my capacity as client and the potential homeowner.

I had my work cut out for me. It all started with the architect’s house plans.

Which, up till this point were never signed off. Because the house had a wrap around veranda upstairs, I wanted the outside stoep to maximize on the mountain and sea views. This meant flipping the original architect’s house plans, left to right.

Then, because of the land servitude on the west border, the house had to be a meter less in width. This meant resizing the draft plans which had implications to the open plan upstairs. We were now on our fourth or fifth amendment and the main stairwell to the house was still not fitting to my complete satisfaction.

So I redrew the whole house myself: and I’m an adman, not an architect.

No jokes. At the end of November Mr B the builder agreed to take my drawings, with my measurements, and commence building. At this stage of the planning proceedings, I was just too happy to hear those words from his mouth. And much too tired to insist on a new architects drawing or stamp my authority on the matter any further.

So it was, in the final month of 2011, building was scheduled to commence on House Engelsman in the village Hemelhof using my drawings.

It was finally happening. Sonja and I were so relieved and overjoyed, that night we again cried ourselves to sleep.

CHAPTER 8: The Dark Ages - tears, prayers and endless despair. 24 months that seemed like a lifetime penal sentence into the darkest depths of hell.

My first timing schedule meeting with Mr B the builder was in early January of 2012. But I was reminded that the builders’ holiday extended to around the 10th January. Together we mapped out a timing plan the dates of which I duly noted in my executive pad. I wrote it all down as: Building of the lower ground level – 4 weeks.

Building of the upper floor level – another 4 weeks.

The roof beams/ trusses and tin roofing – 2 weeks.

Weather permitting, all the walls built and the roof on our house by 31 March.

Ceiling installations, plastering, electric wiring and plumbing would require another 4 to 5 weeks.

So the house should be ready for final finishes with all wet work completed by the end of April. Given the school holidays, I mentally moved that out to no later than mid May 2012.

By the time we planned our next visit to Hermanus we were already into the month of March 2012. I called Mr B the builder to enquire what progress we might expect to see on site. Blow me down. Building had not yet started!

“Why the hell not?” I shouted down my cell phone.

“No builders” came the reply, “they are all on strike.”

You better believe it. Welcome to Africa.

The disappointment after receiving this information was huge. It soon turned to overwhelming depression. Time was marching by, but we seemed no closer to getting our home in the country. For the next few weeks or so we were totally miserable. Another email went out with no reply. Mr B the builder was not taking phone calls on his mobile and every time I tried to leave a message, the cell phone’s recorded voice told me the inbox was full.

By now my patience had been tested to the limit. My depression turned to anger.

Holy mackerel. Finally, many weeks later, some verbal feedback.

“I have a new building team from Cape Town going out to Hermanus on Monday” came the welcome voice of Mr B the builder. We were now already well into April. And the foundations were still to be laid.

It was then that I realized the new the timing plan that we had agreed to was not worth the paper it was written on. No way in hell we were going to see this house finished before the months of November or December. I recall saying to Sonja that with a bit of luck, we could be celebrating her birthday on the 10 November in the new house.

As it turned out, the new team made a good start to the house as promised. By the time Sonja and I, and Milo, next visited the site the foundations were taking shape. The lower level was mapped out for the interior walls. Apart from having some stubborn rock eating into the planned space allotted for our entrance hall, all was good.

Sorry not all. Milo had a runny tummy. Not able to exist the car, he left a smelly parcel on the back seat of the car for us to clean up. The poor dog!

The car seat laboriously cleaned, we left there that day with renewed confidence.

We should have known better. We had no sooner left the site and the next building process delay and major disappointment was upon us. The winter rains.

It was the middle of the slow season, things were just not happening. Delay, after delay, after delay. We were now fast approaching the winter months and I was petrified the house was not going to get its roof on before the Cape storms.

Again emails went out. Messages were left on the mobile. No replies.

The waiting and not hearing of any progress was killing us. Both mentally and emotionally. We were stressing big time. Again Sonja and I resorted to comforting each other with a prayer and a crying session. Sleeping through the night was becoming a problem.

Truth be told, I was worried sick.

As it turned out the winter rains of 2012 were slow in coming forward. Just as well I thought, because we did not get our roof on. We did not even get our walls done. Building came to a complete halt.

June, July, August. Time just passed us by. And very little progress.

That November we did not celebrate Sonja’s birthday in our new house. Nor did we get to celebrate Christmas in the new house. There was not much merriment in our household that holiday. Following a whole year of building, we had not much more than the empty shell of a half-built home to show for it.

We had only the lower level walls in place.

The 2013 New Year headache came with the start of another build obstacle and even more delays. The first hurdle for the first calendar month was the laying of the upper level cement slab. A medley of casting cement set amidst reinforced steel piping.

Days turned to weeks with no action to talk of. It seemed to take forever, but sometime in late February or early March we finally got our upper level cement slab. Now they could start with the upper level brick building. Hallelujah.

Once again, with the school holidays playing their part, April 2013 just came and went. Sonja and I were not even mildly motivated to take another site visit.

By now I had taken the liberty of updating all the finishing’s required from the haul of quotations that I had secured in early or mid 2012. The list of suppliers and business cards collected in my executive notepad read like the who’s who of the building trade in Cape Town.

From sanitary supplies and bathroom tiling, to screed flooring and carpeting, to lighting, to kitchen joinery and cupboard builders. You name it, chances are pretty good I had it. But because my quotes were well over six months, and in some cases, nine months old and out of date…I had to start the whole process all over again. But shopping, sourcing and bargain hunting for our PC budget items was a pleasure relative to what we could not control.

The dreaded build process in Hermanus.

Our next visit to our home was only when we were told the roof was now on. It was mid winter 2013. Sonja, Milo and I drove out to see our new home now with the recently installed roof on. It was quite something. The house had finally taken on some character – a real plaashuis (farmhouse) in the middle of a country town security estate. Only in Africa.

But things were finally looking up.

“We might just have the house finished for Christmas this year” I joked with the builder and his lone helper on site.

“We will see. We can only but try our best” came the reply. And it was not too convincingly at that.

The next scheduled site visit was cancelled due to the adverse weather. So too the one after that. Then came the heavy rains and snow of mid September 2013.

The dams were all full. It was the wettest September in the Cape since 2004.

Our first site visit scheduled for early October was also cancelled. This time because the builders were otherwise engaged in a four-day union conference.

Talk about the patience of Job.

CHAPTER 9: Hout Bay to Hemel-en-Aarde just outside Hermanus – one hour forty-five minutes drive exactly. Turn back when you see signs to Harare.

October 2013 and the petrol price just keeps going up. The rand devalues, the oil price rises, the petrol price increases…and the one hour and forty-five minute drive to Hermanus just seems to get longer and longer. Or further and further.

It felt like we were traveling the full length of the Overberg countryside.

And definitely more expensive with every trip.

Fortunately my wife Sonja’s little VW Polo 1.4 is hardly a petrol guzzler. Not like my aging BMW. A hundred rands petrol in my Beem just marginally lifts the petrol gauge off the empty mark. So we agreed, no more trips in the comfy, sheer driving pleasure of the BMW until the house was finished.

Two years into the build and the price of petrol was not our only concern.

My business income had all but dried up. I was officially retired but without any pension to talk of. (Apart from the miserly income we received from a very small retirement annuity.) By now we were running two homes in terms of rates and taxes and estate levies, and our savings were not sufficient to cover our day-today living expenses. So we were forced to start eating into our building budget, leaving us in a state of financial affairs that was far from ideal.

Not because we had not budgeted for the two homes. The plan was always to either sell or rent out one of the homes, either in Hout Bay or in Hermanus. But because we had not budgeted for keeping two homes – well one and a half more accurately speaking – for nearly 24 months on-end without any rental income.

The Deed of Transfer on our plot was registered on the 23 October 2011.

By the 23 October 2012, 12 months into the build contract and we had not progressed much above three or four walls on the ground floor.

The cement slab for the second floor was only laid sometime in March 2013.

Then came the slow season again – the winter months of June, July and August.

But the real winter rains only came in September. Along with hail and snow!

Needless to say, we deliberately stayed away from driving any long distances.

And before you could say we told you so, it was October again.

October 2013, a few days short of two years of build later and our house was still not anywhere near finished. Our next visit to the site was scheduled for the 18th of October. (A week after the one that was rescheduled because of the workers union conference.) It was a Friday and the end of a long week. My enthusiasm for the new home and expectations from Mr B the builder were running at an all time low.

The drive their seemed to take forever. Even the VW Polo was on a go-slow.

Partly due, no doubt, to our mind’s desire to save on petrol but also partly because of the added weight in our car. In addition to Sonja, Milo and I we had loaded no less than 10 bathroom tiles in the boot of the vehicle. And these were not your ordinary run-of-the-mill tiles.

Firstly, they were not cheap.

Secondly, they were massive 600x600 natural black slate tiles. They marked or chipped at the slightest pump or knock. And they seemed to weigh a ton in the boot of our car. We needed to take every precaution possible to get them to their destination safe and sound.

Now why in God’s name are you delivering tiles? you may well ask.

The simple answer, because the suppliers wanted to charge us a ridiculous amount of money to get them from Cape Town to Hermanus. And because Mr B the builder, who promised us on no less than two occasions to arrange for their delivery, let us down again. As I was not prepared to lose them – having already paid for them in full – I had the tiles delivered to our house in Hout Bay. So I was now saddled with the task of getting them to Hermanus. At a rate of 10 tiles per road trip, the 45 slate tiles for the three bathrooms in our house were going to take us, if my arithmetic serves me correctly, at least four and half trips.

Even if we guzzled two hundred rands worth of petrol and incurred another two hundred rands worth of wear and tear on the Polo, we would still save ourselves equally that from delivering it ourselves. The only problem I could foresee with this whole exercise was that we would probably only get our bathrooms fully tiled by mid December. Or perhaps, just in time for our New Year’s party.

I cursed the tile suppliers for wanting to charge us so much for the delivery.

I cursed our Mr B the builder for not collecting them and delivering them as he had promised. But, most of all, I cursed the fact that I was so determined to save some money. Just lifting those tiles in and out of the car played havoc on my lower back muscles. But hey, I was saving money.

Contemplating the idea of having to trek over the mountain with tiles in the boot of our car – at minimum four and a half times – I was keen to find a smarter route from Hout Bay to the Overberg. So I persuaded Sonja that on this trip we would take the scenic route along Clarence Drive – a very pleasant drive on a road that hugs the coastline from Gordon’s Bay to Jock’s Bay, to Betty’s Bay by-passing Pringle Bay and finally through to Kleinmond. After Kleinmond the road once again joins the N2 feeder and the well-travelled route through to Hermanus.

If you see signs to Harare you’ll know you’ve gone too far.

More pleasant it was most definitely. But it took us considerably longer, driving somewhat slower and taking probably more petrol too. So it was not such a smart idea I have to confess.

As it so happened that Friday’s site visit proved most disheartening. The house was built but with only signs of the first undercoat of paint on the walls, both inside and out, there was still much to be done. Despite having paid for the aluminium windows and doors over a month ago, they were still nowhere to be seen. The interior pine wood ceiling work had been started, but the bulk of it was still to be installed. The sanitary installations were still to be plumbed and the kitchen units were still to be built.

“The house will be finished by the end of next month” said Mr B the builder.

“If only I had a dollar for every time you have said that to a client” I replied.

The look on his face said it all.

Despite all the setbacks, we were nearing the time for the house to be dressed in its fittings and finishes. But where in the world of winter wonderland were we going to find the money?

Time to bite the bullet and make some embarrassing calls. Cash is the only road that leads to Rome. Time to solicit financial help from family and friends.

No money, no finished home. It was now or never!

CHAPTER 10: Our 3rd Anniversary - another annus horribilis and still no end in sight. With nothing to celebrate, the bottle of champagne never leaves the fridge.

The 23 October 2013 was the third anniversary of our Plot & Plan journey into the hell that was Hemel-en-Aarde. That day came and went without fanfair.

To make matters worse, on the 28 October 2013 we had to put our beloved Milo of the past twelve and a half years to eternal rest. After the past 18 months of a daily intake of quarterzone his time had come to bid farewell.

God knows I miss my little mate terribly. May he sleep peacefully.

Taking stock of our financial affairs at the end of three years was a painful exercise in bitter remorse and a history book of regrets. But I knew all too well that the bottom line was all that mattered. The dream of a humble house in the country was etching closer to being called a reality. At this point in time the only thing that stood between us and some degree of success was a trolley-load of money. About 280 000 worth of it to be precise.

We still had R80 000 left in our build budget. That left us short of R200 000.

Money that we would need to find in order to cover: -

Screed flooring and carpeting Tiling Lighting Kitchen and scullery units Kitchen appliances Plus the final 10% of the builder’s contract.

Clearly there was no money for any nice-to-haves. No fancy fixtures or fittings – we were focusing purely on the necessities. The plan for shutters was dropped.

No garden landscaping, no expensive plants or the likes. There was not even money for moving house. Budget wise, we were not in good shape.

I started reeling in the shortfall with a R20 000 loan from my property investment partners. Then I cashed-in a small share investment and surrendered a very old endownment policy. I thought of trading-in my old BMW motorcar but the cash value was way less than the emotional ties, so I canned that idea. I had made a good start, but my cash collection momentum soon dwindled to another grand or two.

Nowhere near the amount that was still needed.

That’s when I thought my bank of the past 25 years standing would come to the party with a second bond on my current home. Being a self-employed entrepreneur that was now semi-retired, did not present much hope…but hope I did. Needless to say, the loan application was a dismal failure.

Where to next?

Reacting to an advert in the local papers, I tried my luck with a personal loans company, and while my application was successful, I reclined the offer at the eleventh hour. The fees and interest charges were a lot less than favourable.

Now what?

The Lord sure works in strange ways. Just when we thought a lack of finance was our only problem…and acquiring some the only solution… the entire building project along with our now, at best, tenuous relationship with Mr B the builder all came to grinding holt.

That November of 2013 the heavens opened up to unleash some of the heaviest downpours the western Cape has experienced for the past 30 years. It literally rained non-stop for days on end. Homes were flooded. Roads were flooded.

Bridges collapsed. Thousands were misplaced and left to seek shelter in community halls, churches and the like. Hermanus too, did not escape the excessive rains and adverse weather conditions unscathed.

But it took a week or two before the stories of home owners in Hemelhof – all having had their homes built by the very same Mr B the builder – to start voicing their displeasure with their homes being flooded from the recent rains and resultant mountain mudslides. We got to see some of the clearance and repair works with our own eyes during a site visit in mid November, barely a fortnight after the heavy storms.

It was during this same site visit that we met our neighbours for the very first time. He and I happen to share the same first name, both with the identical spelling - Alan - with one ‘L’. Five minutes into our conversation about our homes in Hemelhof and we soon realized we also share something else in common…that Mr B the builder is not a good friend of ours.

Alan, the neighbour, was clearly at loggerheads with Mr B the builder and was not impressed by his lack of urgency to attend to their problems. It transpired his home began displaying some major cracks a mere six months after their date of occupation…and they had been living in their house for just under a year now.

Several emails and telephone calls later, getting no joy in having the house repairs attended to, his relationship with Mr B the builder had soured to the point where Alan decided to seek the help of the NHBRC – the National Home Builders Registration Council.

Through his efforts to contact the NHBRC he discovered, to his utter dismay, that his house had never been enrolled at the council. This being the case despite the fact that his building contract specifically calls on the builder to do so, and that the cost of registration with the council is included in the contract price.

The NHBRC summoned Alan to attend to a council briefing to formally lodge his complaint with the NHBRC at their head office in Welgemoed in the northern suburbs of Cape Town. That meeting was scheduled for the 4 December 2013.

It was then that Alan dropped a bombshell on us. In his efforts to clarify why his house had not been enrolled, he uncovered on the NHBRC website that our house – being the ERF next to his – was also not registered. Bloody hell.

Something so important and yet I had never ever thought of checking up on the NHBRC enrolment for myself. Now I feared the worst was still to come.

Alan, to his credit, soon realized that we share another common denominator with our immediate neighbours. Them and us were both cash buyers.

Fact is, Mr B the builder saw us coming.

Armed with this information, Sonja and I agreed to join Alan and his wife Yvonne at their NHBRC meeting on the 4th December. It was only a fortnight away, but it seemed to me we were sentenced to waiting a lifetime.

Once again, I was worried sick.

Regrettably, my state of nervousness rubbed off onto Sonja…something I really did not want. As it happened, on the day of the meeting, Sonja was clearly not keen to attend a fact-finding session with the NHBRC. So I reassured her there was no need for us both to attend and that I would go alone. I was, afterall, purely a third party joining Alan and his wife at their scheduled meeting.

What an eye opener! Mr B the builder had evaded enrolment of our homes so that he could pocket the levy monies. Or avoid the routine NHBRC building inspections and build quality standards. Or both.

Not only that, it appears from the way that he draws up the building contracts, that he is guilty of what the NHBRC called “fronting” – a legal term where the property developer hides behind the name of a builder because he himself is not a registered builder.

Then if, and when, the proverbial hits the fan…he evades the heat by pointing the blame on his builder front man. Who happily goes to court because he himself owns nothing of consequence anyway. And scores himself a new suite and tie in the process.

I was not too surprised to discover Mr B the builder’s name had surfaced in a prior complaint to the NHBRC where he was found guilty and summoned, the result of which he had to pay a hefty fine for his misdemeanors.

“This time,” in the words of the NHBRC legal officer, “we are going to make sure he faces criminal charges with a fine or a jail term or both.”

He went on “this Mr B has had his name submitted to the NHBRC before. We are seeing a trend here that smacks of fraudulent behaviour. We will investigate this man to the nth degree.”

I know I’ve said it before, but it’s worth saying it again…the Lord works in strange ways. They say every dog has his day. Seems Mr B the builder was about to have his.

With the weight of the world now lifted from my shoulders, I thoroughly enjoyed the hour and a half’s drive in the middle of peak hour traffic all the way home.

What a great day I had. I kept thinking to myself, the NHBRC is going to be the straw that finally breaks the camel’s back. With criminal charges against him, we will finally be free of Mr B the builder and his one-sided builders contract.

I could not contain myself when I finally arrived home and burst through the door to tell Sonja the great news.

“Honey, you’re not going to believe this…”

CHAPTER 11: Home Sweet Home - mercifully, an end to the agony that is Plot & Plan. Three years, two months and 22 days later.

The very next day, Thursday 5th December 2013, the world awoke to the news that our beloved peacekeeper Nelson “Madiba” Mandela had passed away. After a long spell of illness, his body finally succumbed and he took his last breaths in the early hours of that morning. The news spread quickly and by 10am flags in South Africa, Africa and the rest of the world were flying half-mast. The peoples of the globe were in mourning at the loss of our nation’s father figure.

It certainly took our minds off our building problems.

In fact, it did so for the whole of the next few weeks. Every TV channel, every radio station, every newspaper, the only news was all Madiba: the life of a legend and his legacy for peace and harmony in a united South Africa.

For many, the shock of it all was a case of what now? Aptly expressed in the words of a young South African child “who is going to look after the world now?”

In my brief tribute to the man I wrote: “MADIBA 1918 - 2013. With him dies the promise of a free house for all, and more profoundly, the hope of a better life for many South Africans.”

It may be that on the day I was feeling badly done by, or just not having much in our current state of flux to feel particularly thankful for, but my overt skepticism of our future of a fair and just society under law was real. Crime was rampant.

Corruption was the norm. People were voicing their desperation in the lack of service delivery in the streets. And South African leaders and potential presidents of the ilk of a Nelson Mandela were in serious short supply.

But my minds matters on the Rainbow Nation’s future following the loss of our political colossus was quickly turned back to the problems of the present day with the incoming of an email from my neighbour Alan.

“I saw a letter posted on your front window this morning. It’s a Builders Lien.

Strangely it’s written on behalf of the Mr B Trust and the frontman builder – neither of whom are signatory to the building contract. These things seem to appear from time to time when Mr B has money disputes.”

I fired off a return email back to Alan “Thank you for your email. It’s Mr B’s way of covering up the real issues.

Nothing he does now scares me. The NHBRC will be our guiding light. Let me know if and when you receive any progress news.”

And so our nail biting wait for news from the NHBRC began. By the morning of the 13 December there had been no news. Alan confirmed this during my telephone call. The building industry closed shop that afternoon and so we had no alternative but to wait it out until the end of the builders’ holidays and the start of another year.

That Christmas and New Year the celebrations were without fanfare. Sonja did her best to decorate the tree with home baked cookies and place a few family presents. But we had no money to spend on making whoopee.

And no real party spirit either!

Plus we both were still dearly missing our dog child Milo. Only two red and white stockings this year, not three. Our first Xmas without him in 12 years!

Our relationship with Mr B the builder had soured beyond description. After he openly accused me (and indirectly Sonja too) of being slow with the money and being the major cause of the building delays, I just lost it!

That put an end to the one-on-one coffee meetings.

The light at the end of the tunnel was kept alive with the knowledge that our attorney had emailed Mr B the builder’s attorneys. Based on his professional assessment of our current situation, our legal man recommended we fire off a letter to bring the builder to terms – with specific deadlines. In his letter, our attorney gave Mr B until the 14th January 2014 to show proof of having enrolled our house with the NHBRC. And more importantly, to make good on broken promises and any outstanding build works such that all building operations are completed by no later than the 14th February 2014.

His letter received a hogwash of excuses for non performance in reply. Which immediately prompted a second email from our attorney: Dear Mr B The last sentence of your email creates cause for concern.

In terms of section 14(3) of the Housing Consumers Protection Measures Act you are obliged to furnish my client with a copy of the enrolment certificate and your failure to do so is unlawful.

Your refusal to do so confirms my clients’ belief that you have failed to enrol this house with the NHBRC. For your information this has also been confirmed to us by Mr MG, a Legal Investigator with the NHBRC. According to the NHBRC you are being investigated for this omission in respect of our clients’ contract and in respect of 2 other contracts in the same development.

In terms of section 14(1) of the Housing Consumers Protection Measures Act, a builder is not entitled to commence with the construction of a dwelling until such time as the enrolment has taken place. Your commencement of the works was accordingly also unlawful.

Your unlawful actions amount to a breach of the contract, which my clients will not abide.

My instructions are accordingly to reiterate the demand for proof of enrolment by midday on 14 January 2014 failing which my clients intend to cancel the agreement and hold you liable for any damages which my clients might suffer flowing from the cancellation.

Finally, and while I do not believe it to be relevant at this stage, my clients deny that the delays in construction have been occasioned by their failure to make any payments to you.

In fact the refusal on the part of my clients to make any additional payments to you has only become an issue in the last 2 months of last year and this has come about as a result of your substantial delays and the discovery of your breach in respect of the NHBRC enrolment.

In a previous email of the same legal ilk I particularly loved our attorney’s descriptive wording of the timing status – a 120 working days build contract that was now well over 24 months old and still unfinished – aptly described as “hopelessly overdue”.

Time was now firmly on our side.

The NHBRC was on our side.

And, as far as we could tell, the law was on our side.

I’m not a betting man myself, but for the first time in over three years, the odds were leaning towards 80/20 with the legal ball lying squarely on our side of the court.

Possibly even 90/10.

Finally, we were in control. The start of 2014 and another year into our building saga could not have kicked off on a better footing. But the email that really rocked the baby out of the cot was the one we (myself, my neighbour Alan and a third complainant) received on the 15 January from the NHBRC: Good Afternoon As you are aware that NHBRC has undertaken to conduct an in-depth investigation into the activities of C and P CC with regards to complaints that have been received from yourselves.

I have been appointed to conduct this investigation and a lot has surfaced to say the least.

I would therefore for the purposes of registering a docket with the SAPS with regards to contraventions of Section 10 (1) (b) of the Housing Consumers Protection Measures Act 95 of 1998, “the Act”, by Mr B and also the contravention of Section 14 (1) of the Act by Mr C. In my investigation I have also discovered that there is an element of Fraud from Mr C in a sense that in the building contract he acknowledges that he will construct a house accordingly and he even mentions NHBRC Warranty. As we now know that was never honoured which amounts to misrepresentation due to the fact that the money for doing so was charged and paid by yourselves but enrolment with the NHBRC was never done.

It also emerged that A Trust was indeed responsible for payment of enrolment fees but that was never paid over to NHBRC. The involvement of A Trust informs me that Mr B is benefiting from building where as he not supposed to be actively involved because he is not registered and should not be financially benefiting from construction and therefore a Fraud case will also be included in this matter.

For the purposes of this investigation I would request that the three of you furnish this office with detailed affidavits commissioned in order to be able to register a case docket for saps investigation. I will also request that when the affidavit has been finalised and commissioned, it be courier to NHBRC HEAD OFFICE LEGAL DIVISION for my attention.

Wow. What a turn of events. Now all we need is to sit back and let the legal process take its course. With any luck, we could be seeing the last of Mr B the builder. Far more importantly, the lawful cancellation of our builders contract sees the end of our Plotand-Plan commitments – including the final 10% of the builder’s fees.

Effectively saving us an amount of R130 000!

But it comes at a price. For we now have legal fees to contend with, plus we have to find the money for the NHBRC levy late enrolment fees. That’s in addition to buying aluminium stacking doors for a second time, electrical wiring of the house, plumbing installations, driveway paving, a host of plastering and painting labour costs not budgeted and God knows whatever else Mr B the builder had failed to deliver on.

And with all of that comes the appointment of a replacement builder, a civil engineer and a QS - along with their fees naturally.

This time around however, we aimed to do things differently. For starters, I personally vowed to check our new builder’s NHBRC registration was valid and up to scratch.

No NHBRC certificate, no work… is the new mantra.

And upfront payments are a thing of the past, no matter how attractive the discount.

That’s a promise we plan to keep – forever!

Our nightmare Plot-and-Plan building contract was officially cancelled on the morning of 22 January 2014. Exactly three years, two months and 22 days later.

Our three-year old bottle of bubbly had its cork popped the same day.

Finishing the house of our dreams continues…