Interesting times. Just when you get used to the round and back, round and back, round and back of the wash cycle, bang. We’re in a spin.
December. Insane.
The busiest top end in 20 years. Mansions shooting off the shelves faster than loo paper in lockdown.
January. Coast Time.
A great big hole of a month.
From Phillip Island to Lorne, legions of buyers with the ready and endless sellers not ready to play. The rarities that did transact often went a million over reserve.
It’s back-to-beta economics (the economics you had before there was economics).
Demand overwhelming supply equals prices overwhelming adjectives.
Portsea is a no-show. Nothing doing.
Then came Flinders. There your spare $30m just might find somewhere to sleep.
All of which will come as a considerable shock to agents whose dreams are yet to come true — their flying market still short a carpet or two.
Next?
More of the same. There’s just not enough of the good stuff to go around and that’s likely to remain so in the immediate future.
(Last weekend over 30 groups were forming a queue even before the agent showed up. That is not a signal of a looming crash.)
The Crash Of 2020
It was predicted here, predicted there.
Not by us.
We’re not predicting it. Again.
Does Debt Matter?
It’s not a word that you hear at the top end, yet economists are beating the debt drums and journos are nod, nod, nodding.
Could debt really be a problem?
There are signs that something is afoot.
A seriously, seriously wealthy client is told to wait months for loan approval.
This when banks are siting on mountains of deposits.
Strange.
Someone In Armadale Is Telling Fibs
An agent! Imagine that!
A director of a Serious Agency!
Really!
Quoting one number! Needing another!
Refusing to sell at the advertised price!
More porkies than a politician!
Really!