Читать книгу Our House is Definitely Not in Paris - Susan Cutsforth - Страница 17

The Viager System

Оглавление

Stuart is passionate about many things, and one of these is real estate. Wherever he is in the world, he avidly absorbs all the facts about the area. So it is that he is fascinated by the unique French way of buying and selling homes. It’s called viager, a system akin to a lottery or gambling. The difference is that the risk involved relates to how long a seller is likely to live. There can be great gains for the buyer — or an interminable waiting game. The practice allows the elderly to sell their homes but still live in it for the rest of their life. In essence, the longer they live, the more the buyer has to pay. Sometimes the gamble does not pay off, and the seller far outlives the buyer. In rare instances, when a Parisian sells their property en viager and dies within a short time, well, the buyer is in an enviable position. In short, they have won the real estate lottery. It is the potential of this Parisian real estate lottery that captivates Stuart and fires his imagination. I know that he can already see himself in a spacious apartment on the banks of the Seine.

Intrigued by this unique real estate game, I research and learn more. So entrenched is this system in the French psyche as an acceptable method of buying, that sellers at times resort to extraordinary lengths. There are tales of the elderly pretending to stoop over in pain, camouflaged with heavy make-up, so that they literally look at death’s door. Once the contract is signed, they improbably spring back to life. I am sure that the spring in their step is far livelier than it has been for decades once they have an assured healthy income for the rest of their days. Mind you, it involves being prepared to take risks, big risks, for the viager undertaking to pay dividends for the buyer. I start to feel very wary on a number of levels; one: Stuart’s propensity for real estate and risk-taking, and two: his penchant for Parisian apartments.

The whole process is apparently quite straightforward — or so it would ostensibly seem, notwithstanding the well-known machinations of French bureaucracy. It is agreed between two private parties and overseen by a notaire, who keeps an eye on the process by tracking it through its lifetime, so to speak. Sellers tend to be widows, or widowers, who want to cash in on the value of their property in order to get an enticing lump sum, the bouquet and a monthly payment from the buyer for the rest of their lives. The system was devised in the Middle Ages and has experienced resurgence in popularity. It would seem to be a win-win for all parties involved, except, of course, in the untimely demise of the buyer before the seller. It is no wonder that the practice is banned in some European countries.

I can already see it; when Stuart finally finishes rénovation, perhaps he will add ‘attending funerals’ to his ever-growing list of activities. Perhaps cultivating a friendship with an amie of the one recently departed? They are sure to be susceptible to his charm and willing to entertain the notion of an agreeable Australian entering into en viager arrangement for their luxurious apartment on the Champs-Élysées. Or perhaps, an even better idea, since bridge is usually the province of the elderly, an invitation to their maison and then an attractive proposal — of the viager kind, that is.

The very nature of en viager means that wild and extravagant stories abound, making it virtually impossible to discern what is fact and what is fiction. One such story involved an old woman who, despite being from a very well-off family, admitted that she’d squandered the considerable family fortune. So it was that despite her aristocratic family, she found herself penniless at the end of her life. Perhaps that should be euro-less? What better solution indeed than to embark on the financial rollercoaster, with its risks of highs and lows, than en viager? Enviably, her très chic apartment was in no less than the Marais district, one of Paris’ most stylish arrondisements.

Our House is Definitely Not in Paris

Подняться наверх