In December 2022, after eight years of living together, the relationship with my boyfriend unexpectedly came to an end. After the dust settled, my first thought was “Where am I going to live NOW?”
With a creative profession that has been struggling for years, buying a house in the current price landscape in the Netherlands was simply not feasible. Renting in the private sector was equally challenging. As for social housing… well, let’s not even go there.
Initially, I considered a mobile home in a nearby recreational park. However, after just one visit to *Camping Zonnedauw* from the Dutch/Belgian tv series ‘Undercover’, I realized it would be a waste of money. The owner of that park seemed too much like the villains in ‘Undercover’.
Secondly, I thought about returning to Spain. In the early 2010s, I lived in Mallorca for a while, and I had really enjoyed it. However, an island does come with its limitations. What about mainland Spain then? Considering climate change, that might not be a wise choice. Watching nature turn into a desert every day isn’t very uplifting…
Does Hungary still resemble the country I visited as a teenager?
Thirdly, I suddenly remembered an old acquaintance who had purchased a house in Hungary five years ago for the ridiculously low price of 6,000 euros.
Hmm… Hungary… Viktor Orbán isn’t exactly the kind of politician I trust. But these last 13 years of the VVD (a Dutch right-wing political party) weren’t enjoyable either, and as a single woman, there wasn’t much I could do about that either. So, Hungary it is.
I had been to Hungary twice on vacation. With my parents, in 1975 and 1976. As far as I can remember, it was a green and picturesque country, teeming with butterflies and hoopoes. It was a really wonderful place to go horseback riding, and my mother was enthusiastic about pálinka (40 to 70% alcohol). Because the country was still behind the Iron Curtain those days, all our jeans were immediately stolen from the clothesline. Simple jeans weren’t available there at the time. Now they have stores like H&M, Ikea, and Media Markt.
First, let’s check if Hungary still resembles the country I visited as a teenager…
The more I read, the more excited I become. The country is two and a half times the size of the Netherlands and has fewer than ten million inhabitants. Plenty of space for nature! The population has been declining for years, which means many houses are available for sale. Usually for very low prices, depending on the renovation required. They often come with large plots of land, so having a veggie garden isn’t a problem.
A week to find and buy a house for myself
And as for nature: ten different species of owls nest here, there are golden jackals and wolves, occasional bear sightings, seven different snake species, 28 bat species, many unusual types of mice, wild cats, and Eurasian lynxes. In total, there are 400 to 410 different bird species. Plenty to discover! The vision of encountering the breathtaking turquoise European roller Coracias garrulus really seals the deal for me…
After a week of feverishly scrolling through Hungarian houses on the internet, I decide to get in the car on a gloomy day in January and drive there in two and a half days. I wouldn’t want to buy a house abroad without seeing it in person. Some people do, and they end up with something suspiciously close to a ruin upon arrival. That means unexpectedly high renovation costs, which I want to avoid.
I had exactly one week to find and actually buy a house for myself. After that, my ex-boyfriend’s vacation days would be over, and I’d have to return for the dogs. And much to my own surprise, I succeed! Without targeting a specific province, I scroll through local Facebook Marketplace ads in my B&B using the search term ‘eladó ház’ (house for sale).
Eventually, I spot a cute farmhouse of 55 square meters with barns and 2700 square meters of land in the deep south near the Serbian border. Asking price: 14,569 euros. I could come and see it the same day, accompanied by the owner, an English-speaking Hungarian butcher.
It’s a charming little house, no doubt. It’s located on a dirt road with very few neighbors. There’s space all around, with small production forests for the wood-burning stove. The mixed-loam walls are dry, the roof is in good condition, and there is a large covered veranda with two giant walnut trees in front and plenty of acacia trees for the stove at the back of the property. I can already see endless possibilities, so I decide to go for it.
The next day, the butcher and I sit down with a lawyer to finalize the purchase. All in all, a successful speed date.
During the long and boring drive trough Germany and Austria, I sometimes have my doubts
Since my tiny tanya is located in the countryside, there is a right of first refusal for farmers. This means that an announcement is posted in the town hall for three months, giving locals the opportunity to buy the tanya for the same price I paid for it.
To my great relief, no one shows interest. So, at the end of April 2023, I leave for Hungary with my three Malinois sheperd dogs, Carrie, Quinn, and Tori, and a fully loaded trailer. The small moving van I rented has already left a day earlier.
During the long and boring drive trough Germany and Austria, I sometimes have my doubts. Suddenly, a dark, gaping abyss would appear in my mind’s eye. Something about fear of diminishing abilities and perhaps being left without money at the mercy of a post-communist healthcare system. Or a fall from a tree or a roof resulting in complicated fractures. Or loneliness. Or simply sadness about what is over.
Fortunately, I’m quite good at counting my blessings. Even in the Netherlands, people can drop dead in their own homes and lie there unnoticed for weeks. I will be extra careful with all my renovation work. And I have never been lonely, except perhaps in my romantic relationships. As long as I have the internet, the world is at my feet. Plus, I have plans. Wild plans, but that’s a story for another time.
Image Saeed Davari from Wikimedia Commons
