A Matter of Scale

On the original Builder's Blueprint the cul de sac looked broad, shapely and with plenty of open sky between the executive detached houses that were to shortly be transformed from one dimensional footprints into three dimensional residences.

Interested buyers would remark at the representation on the site plan of an almost parkland type vista with each of the houses seemingly a Chatsworth or Harewood in scale.

They would dreamily imagine that, as an owner occupier, their return home from work would be romantic and uplifting, almost Bronte-esque even in a small Japanese hatchback car rather than by horse or horse drawn carriage.

In reality the cul de sac was a narrow, claustrophobic canyon more Middle Earth than Middle England.

I am not sure if this was an intentional misrepresentation on the part of the Builder or down to a simple transcribing error in the drawing office.

I have my own scale ruler. It is of a stubby triangular cross section with four delineated scales on each face, paired up so, for example, 1:100 and 1:200 are along the same axis. Other planes of the ruler are similarly marked and the whole instrument can be used to interpret documents from the largest scale Ordnance Surveys to a precise working drawing of a specific architectural or topographical feature.

Whenever it is in use, and howsoever you are careful, the measuring tool always rotates in such a way that the scale you were just using is not the one so aligned with the piece of work.

I cannot account for this phenomena. Very rarely is there a need to actually lift the ruler from the plan or map but turn away for a second to cross reference something or jot down the readings and it has magically rotated to show another and completely inapplicable scale. In such a way I can, perhaps, explain away the differences between a Builder's Promotional Literature and what the buyers end up moving into, some weeks after being seduced and relieved of their hard earned mortgage monies.

As I drove into the residential estate in which the cul de sac was located I suddenly felt like a giant. My estate car was scaled up to a ponderous, wide berthed monster which straddled the middle of the narrow roadway. A parked vehicle such as the Ringtons Tea delivery van would create havoc and those going about their business in and out of the estate would have to mount the kerb to negotiate around. The arrival of the wheelie bin refuse lorry was dreaded on a Thursday and on that day a good proportion of the working population would intentionally leave their homes for the office, school or government department early so as not to be hemmed in on their driveways.

My job for that afternoon was to survey one of the modern detached houses for a prospective purchaser.

Before I had switched off the engine I could sense that the neighbourhood watch had activated. A few curtains and Roman blinds twitched. An army of homeworkers, child minding grandparents and young mothers had found a bit of excitement for a few minutes. By the time I had unloaded the trademark tools and equipment of an obvious Surveyor, ladders, torch and filled the pockets of my coat with sonic tape and miscellaneous equipment they had mentally disregarded me as a threat or ne'er do well.

Out of mischief the last piece of my kit to be pulled out of the back of the car is a classic crow bar and I wield this menacingly and with intent but have yet to excite any interest or challenge.

There can be one persistent neighbour in every group of ten or so houses who, under the pretence of relocating their recycled materials from the brown bin to the blue bin in fear of receiving a warning notice form the Council, may try to strike up a conversation. "Is it sold then?, or "Are you doing a survey?" are common opening lines. There is considerable scope, on my part, to allude to a potentially undesirable client profile in answer to the first query or just a "You think, derrrrrrrr!" to the second.

I, however, maintain my professionalism and engage in just enough dialogue to attain a satisfied look on their faces. The basic facts but not betraying any confidences will subsequently be spread like wildfire amongst the residents before tea time.

The Show begins. I have often toyed with the idea of fixing a pedometer to one of my socks and measuring the distance covered in any one survey job. Even in the case of a compact detached house I find myself crossing and re-crossing the frontage many times and passing between the boundaries of its depth to get that definitive view of the structure and jot down my observations. Perhaps my fee scale could be based on distance covered in the future although given the trend in New Build Developments for shrinking floor areas and gardens I may be diddling myself out of a reasonable rate for the job. 

The tight arrangement of a typical cul de sac housing stock inevitably involves my having to ask permission of an adjacent owner to trespass on their land to get a better view. This is willingly given in most cases or I just stray over if the owners are absent. In returning to my commissioned job I have to be careful that I am again looking at the correct house because a momentary lack of concentration and I can be facing the wrong, but very similar looking property. Talk about disorientation in a small space. There is little scope to personalise and customise the exterior of modern box-like houses but owners really go to town on the interiors.

It is a fact, and one which I can substantiate from 25 years experience, that those who have new houses intentionally try to create an old, traditional style whereas those with old properties try to achieve a contemporary and modern style. I find this baffling and confusing.

Strikingly similar exteriors can therefore be dramatically different internally.

The trend for a through lounge has disappeared in favour of family room and combined kitchen. This involves insertion of new partitions and knocking through of load bearing walls. Such features are a challenge to a surveyor in terms of checking adequacy and suitability of such works. If I see a plaster or paint streaked copy of The Readers Digest Book of Home Improvements in a property I go completely cold all over. This spells potential trouble in encouraging an enthusiastic DIY'er to have a go at something well beyond capabilities and knowledge.

Latest trends also include Travertine Tiling to every surface in a cloakroom or bathroom, resin floors and underfloor heating. These give further causes for concern in that everything becomes concealed or just plain buried. Give it about 20 years and this type of feature will go the same way as melamine worktops, York-stone TV shelving and light ash coloured laminate flooring. I await the next wave of domestic must-have's. Damn You, again,  Phil and Kirstie.

In the blink of a practiced eye, but actually approaching two hours later, I am satisfied that I have fathomed the condition of the house and gather my things to leave. My summary is of an unremarkable property, indistinct character, basic construction and finishing, cramped rooms and brow-beating low ceilings, bland and soulless in the extreme. A surprisingly good one then. Enjoy.