The Beauty of Building Sites: Three Decades of Property Adventures

Growing up in building sites sounds like a nightmare to most people. For me, it was both chaotic and brilliant. My parents had this habit of buying run-down properties and completely transforming them whilst we lived in them. Dust sheets for curtains, breakfast amongst power tools, and the constant sound of hammering became the soundtrack to my childhood.

What seemed mental at the time actually taught me something fundamental: with imagination and proper determination, you can transform any space into something wonderful. More importantly, you can add serious value whilst doing it.

My Own Property Journey

I've lived in my flat in Balham for over twenty years now. That's a proper chunk of time to really get to know a place, and more importantly, to transform it piece by piece. It's been a series of renovation projects, some successful, some educational, all challenging.

My friend Adam has been instrumental in most of these transformations. He's one of those properly talented builders who can actually visualise what you're talking about and then make it happen. He's done the loft conversion, completely remodelled the garden, and handled dozens of other projects that have turned my flat from a decent place into something properly special.

The Reality of London Renovations

Anyone who's renovated property in London knows the universal truths:

It always takes longer than planned. That six-week project? It'll be twelve weeks minimum. The two-day job? That's a week if you're lucky.

You'll always hit unexpected issues. These old London buildings are built on unfirm soil, with Victorian engineering that made sense at the time but creates proper headaches now. The running joke amongst builders is that there's everything but a right angle in these places.

It's always painful whilst you're living through it. The dust, the noise, the constant stream of builders, the decisions that need making at 7am when someone discovers yet another issue behind a wall.

But here's the thing: when it's done, when you're sitting in your transformed space, it's absolutely worth it. There's something deeply satisfying about taking a tired, unloved space and turning it into something brilliant.

The Kingston Project: A Lesson in Listed Buildings

Back in 2014, Adam and I decided to take things up a level. We formed a small property investment company called LMCP and took on a proper challenge: a Grade II listed building in Kingston.

This wasn't just any renovation. The building was a former accountancy or legal office that hadn't been used for years. It was in a terrible state and needed completely gutting and reimagining. Adam and his team did a phenomenal job with the actual renovation work. The transformation was brilliant.

But here's where we learnt a brutal lesson about listed buildings: the renovation is only half the battle.

After we'd finished all the work, we had to wait an entire year for English Heritage (or whichever organisation it was) to approve everything. A whole year. Whilst we were carrying debt on the project. The maths on that are simple: every month of waiting eats into your profit margins.

We made some profit in the end, but for all the work involved, the stress, and the capital tied up for that extra year, it wasn't worth it. We never did another one. Sometimes the best lessons are the ones that teach you what not to do again.

Lessons from Le Verger

My parents' most ambitious project was in northern France. They bought an old presbytery building that had been converted into a farmyard. It was properly run down, the kind of place most people would drive past without a second thought.

They transformed it into something amazing. Le Verger became this wonderful family holiday home where we had countless adventures. It's a big house, the kind where you can have loads of people to stay without feeling cramped. We had brilliant family occasions there, proper gatherings that went on for days.

Watching them tackle that project taught me something important about property renovation: it's not just about adding financial value. It's about creating spaces where life happens. The best transformations aren't just about better kitchens or smarter layouts. They're about creating environments that enable better living.

What Property Renovation Really Teaches You

After thirty-odd years of living through renovations, both my own and my parents', here's what I've learnt:

Imagination matters more than budget. Yes, money helps, but the best transformations come from really understanding what a space could be, not just throwing cash at it.

Get the right people. Having someone like Adam, who actually understands both the vision and the practical realities, makes all the difference. Don't go cheap on expertise.

Live with a space before changing it. My best renovation decisions came after years of living in the flat, really understanding how I use each room, where the light falls, what works and what doesn't.

Know when to walk away. The Kingston project taught me that not every opportunity is worth pursuing, even if you can see the potential.

It's about the journey, not just the destination. Yes, living in a building site is tough, but there's something satisfying about being part of the transformation, seeing it happen day by day.

Looking Forward

I'm pretty sure there'll be more property adventures in my future. Once you've experienced the satisfaction of transforming a space, it's hard not to look at run-down buildings and imagine what they could become.

But I'm also wiser now. I know the real costs, not just financial but in terms of time, stress, and energy. I know that Grade II listed buildings in England require a different level of patience. I know that the best renovations are the ones where you're creating something for yourself to enjoy, not just chasing a profit.

Most importantly, I know that the chaos of building sites that I grew up in wasn't just about property development. It was about showing that with vision and determination, you can transform anything. That lesson has served me well, whether I'm renovating a flat, building a business, or tackling any other challenge life throws my way.

The dust sheets and power tools of my childhood weren't just building materials. They were teaching tools. And whilst I wouldn't necessarily recommend raising kids in constant building sites, I'm grateful for what those experiences taught me about transformation, value creation, and the beauty of turning vision into reality.

Even if there's never a bloody right angle when you need one.