Yesterday was one of those days which makes the rest of the week seem worthwhile. I spent the morning sitting, bored out of my mind, in a court room learning how foreclosure sales are managed in Germany. We had our eye on one or two properties which could be developed and either put back on the market at a profit or rented out. Each one was handled separately, and each one took at least half an hour of sitting around and doing nothing to get through.
Basically, the judge reads out all the information about a property, then the regulations for bidding – no cash, identification and a deposit, what happens when a property isn’t auctioned off, minimum bids and costs already incurred – and then waits, along with everyone else, for the bids to either come in, or not, as the case may be. If no one bids we sit there and wait until a certain period has passed, so that everyone has a chance to think about whether they want to bid, or raise their bid, or whatever. We bought our properties for the minimum price, and that’s what counts.
In the afternoon Martin gave me a letter from some attorney to answer. He wrote on behalf of the family HÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â¶ppe who were demanding repayment of all the rental fees Martin had gained from the former family property, and threatening him with legal action if he didn’t pay, claiming that he had taken the funds illegally and was simply making himself rich at the cost of the family. The answer was very simple: Martin owns the property. I included a copy of the Land Registry entry, which should be enough to close the matter. It looks like the HÃƒÆ’Ã‚Â¶ppe’s didn’t bother telling their children that they’d sold out: not that it would have interested them anyway; they weren’t there when their parents needed them and when they finally died everything was just an inconvenience.
Tomorrow will be a good day. I have a (hot!) date with the red-haired beauty. See how it goes.
Love & Kisses, Viki.