Tenancy review for 7 Roundhill Road in St Andrews, St Andrews rented from Habib Chowdhury

Landlord rating: 2

Habib is generally uncaring about the property.

The first time I realised this was the first week I moved in. I tried to communicate to Habib that the sink truly was blocked beyond the abilities of a plunger and heavy drain chemicals. He instisted that this was not the case and he could come round and plunge it back it life. Another two days go by and I still cannot wash dishes (no dishwasher anyway). Habib comes round and of course fails to unplunge the sink despire intense effort on his part. He calls a plumber. The plumber arrives two days later (may have been one, not sure). A full week without being able to wash a single dish in my new flat.

The second time was when I requested a hoover for the flat, as there wasn't so much as a dustpan and brush for cleaning up to be found. Habib sits me down and tells me that being a landlord is really, really hard. I am struggling not to laugh as he looks me in the eye and tells me how hard the council is making it for him to do anything for me in terms of providing basic cleaning appliances. A old smelly hoover is then provided to me by Habib on what I can only describe as some sort of ad-hoc hush-hush I'm-doing-you-a-huuuuge-favour here basis.

The thrid time was when our toilet stopped flushing properly. I diagnosed the flapper being damaged and requested a plumber out to sort this. The plumber comes out much later, from Dundee for some reason, and cannot begin the repair as the toilet is so old and limescaled that the bolts literally cannot be unscrewed to inspect the flapper. No worries, just get a new toilet right? Not Habib, he would _never_ spend money on improving the property for any reason, so he instructs the plumber to collect one of Habibs old, previously removed toilets from another house and install it in mine.

In a surprise twist, the toilet does not work. I am left for more than 36 hours without a flushing toilet in my house.

For the fourth and final time, I tried to tell Habib about the neighbours for about four months. He ignored every text I sent. It's quite the scroll through my messages app to find where this one sided conversation started.

When I finally got a repsonse from Habib about the neighbours, with the intention of seeking some rent relief until I found a new property, he told me:
"I would rather sell the property [than give you a rent reduction]". Lovely.

Property rating: 4

When I moved in to this flat, the place was dusty, a bit dirty and the sink was clogged by the previous tenants. It took almost a week for a plumber to come and disassemble all the pipework to locate the source of the clog.

This bad start was the tip of the iceberg in terms of flaws with the property.

The house was very, very, very draughty. About 1 in every 2 windows does close properly, leaving finger width holes allowing vast amounts of cold air to come in 24/7. This became unbearable in the winter months, especially as an exposed vent sits above the bed in the first bedroom, chilling you as you sleep. To combat this issue, I used selotape to fix up every broken seal of every window in the house. This worked, but there was still an odd draught coming from the living room... ah-hah! There's a big old hole in the livingroom wall behind the radiator, about the diameter of a frisbee. I patched up the hole with some selotape and paper and it seemed to hold back most of the wind.

The floors are made of what might as well be paper mache for all the noise insulation they provide.

I've never used a pay-as-you go gas/electricity meter before and I sure hope I never do again. The process to get set up with their system is difficult to interface with and forgetting to prepay the right amount for gas and electricity will cause your appliances to shut off instantly when a limit is hit. This is especially problematic for me as I work from a desktop PC.

The livingroom is nice and sunny, the balcony is littered with cigarette butts from god knows how many tenants ago and the bathroom is sterile but functional. No dryer, no dishwasher.

There is a 'garden' in the same was that I have '27 million pounds in my bank account'. The big patch of grass at the front of the property is _not_ your garden, or even shared, it belongs to the abusive alcoholic below you. He's not sharing it. Nor is he mowing it. Worst of both worlds. Your 'garden' is a patch of rubble around the back of the dilapidated back entrance to the building, which is thick with overgrowth and vines. Home to a couple cute families of birds I think.

Appliances generally worked fine. Heating works fine. Cheap bed cracked and broke.

Overall the place is of an low-to-acceptable quality but is still vastly overpriced for it's poor build quality at £900 a month for two people.

Area rating: 1

You will be living above an abusive alcoholic, named Ross. This man is without a doubt the worst thing about the flat and will cause you to develop pretty intense anxiety around sleep due to his unrelenting bass, domestic disputes and constant partying.

"Moving in to number 7? Sorry about the guy below, he's a real nightmare to listen to and I don't even live above him!"

This was among a few of the pieces of advice I was given by another resident of the building, who had previously had altercations with Ross.

I called the police on this man a grand total of four times during my stay. I very quickly realised that there is absolutely nothing the police are willing, or perhaps able to do, about this noise problem. I called them in the midst of several incredibly intense screaming, throwing and abuse matches between him and a female "friend" living in the apartment at the time. I haven't quite experienced anxiety and stress like being awake at 4:30am whilst my neighbours fight it out yet again.

They haven't fought aggressively since earlier this year, hooray! It seems they found a new way to get along, which is having constant parties which seem to span multiple days and nights with an assortment of friends, all singing in the most cracked, gravelly and disgusting voices I've ever heard.

As I write this paragraph with earplugs in and studio headphones on, I can hear their singing and partying that has been going on since around 10am this morning. This, of course, makes the house completely unsuitable for students as the arguments and shouting and music will prevent you from any focus. That is of course, If you are even able to focus after an endless horror of nights with no sleep slowly driving you into more and more of a sleep deprived nightmare. I'm very thankful to my girlfriend for allowing me to spend nights at her place just to get some quiet.

You may think establishing a dialogue with this man will help - it will not. I have attempted to talk to Ross about reducing his noise between 12am - 8am and every time he either refuses, threatens me for the suggestion of asking him to be quiet or apologises meekly "I'm sorry man, I didn't know I was being loud". That last response, hilariously, was at 6am.

This makes the chance of a good nights sleep essentially impossible.

In this final month before I depart, I went down during one of these forced insomniac episodes with the intention of having a real long chat with Ross. We talked on his porch for about an hour, 3am to 4am. He spun me his tale of how the world didn't treat him right and that's why he is the way he is. Stories of how he goes on these days long benders and doesn't remember anything. Sad, to be sure, but I wasn't informed that I'd be living on an episode of Nightmare Neighbours: Off The Rails edition when I moved in. He rounded this conversation off with the firm assertion that he really does not care whether or not I sleep and that he will continue to "live his life" and "have a good time with his friends" at any hour of the day he pleases. Oh and could I please not walk around my house so loud during the afternoon.

The company he most notably keeps is a Glasweigan woman with one of the most rasping, gravelly voices I've ever heard. That style of diction becomes very hard to listen to at 5am singing as loud as she can to Hotel California. That song, by the way, being one of the only 10 or 11 songs that will be played below you on a cyclical hellish playlist.

Please, for all that is holy, do not move into this flat. I've tried to warn you, I care about your sleep schedule, I want you to be happy. Don't make the mistake I did. This flat is not worth £450 a month per person, I genuinely would not stay in it again if was paid £450 a month.