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| Best Practices: Property | ||||||||
| La Dolce Villa
Bryant Urstadt 12/01/2004 |
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Roberto Zecca focused on finding his villa in Italy with the same care that had seen him through decades as an international banker. First, he and his wife, Christine, rented an apartment in Milan, even though they were sure they did not want to live in that city. Zecca, born in Genoa, had worked in Brazil for years before he retired, and they wanted to find a villa in the old country. They took day trips, scouring the countryside. “We started in the lakes region,” Zecca says. “Como was gorgeous, but we were competing with the commuters, and the traffic was overwhelming. Then we went to the Veneto. In Venice and Verona, the properties were astounding, but we just couldn’t handle the idea of having to maintain gold-leaf inlay on the ceiling. Then we hit Tuscany. Almost immediately, we found our home.”
“Villa” usually denotes a country home constructed for a person of wealth. It can include everything from the Capri villa of Emperor Tiberius to Casa Malaparte, the modernist classic on the same island. Most true villas were not centers for agriculture, but many of them are surrounded by farmland. Many of us with a passion for travel have entertained the dream of owning one of these Italian classics. Making the vision a reality, however, calls on our inner banker as much as it does on our inner romantic. The process requires sharp-penciled attention to the details of this confusing and chaotic country, and careful effort when choosing an agent, navigating Italy’s legal system and deciding whether to take on the burden of a full restoration.
Agents stress the importance of becoming intimately familiar with Italy before investing in such a home. “Don’t start with the property,” says Tristan Walker, a founding partner of real estate agency Stiglitz and Walker, which specializes in Tuscan property. “Find the area that suits you first.” The disparities among cities, provinces and, ultimately, the divide between the north and the south are compounded by the fact that, in Italy, even neighborhoods within the same locale can differ markedly. Sections of the city of Siena, for instance, have been at each other’s throats for generations. The Zeccas’ approach, renting a home base and looking from there, is ideal; Italy has no shortage of fine properties to let. The agent can make the difference between a smooth transaction and a molto difficile slog. While working with an English-speaking agent near home is a great convenience, that person’s relationship with the Italians will be the true indicator of worth. Many excellent properties, for example, are not widely marketed. This fact prompted Walker to partner with Giuliano Stiglitz, an Italian broker based in Grosseto. In Walker’s search for a home in Tuscany, he says he found very few of the good properties were being advertised outside the country. Brokers with little command of English had listed those few. Italy has nothing like the Multiple Listing Service used in the United States, so agents rarely know what their colleagues and competitors are offering. The best substitute we can hope for is an agent with top-flight Italian connections, and one who is willing to hustle on our behalf. Most agents ask approximately 6 percent of the transaction price as their fee, which is split between buyer and seller. Seasoned agents
can also help us navigate the labyrinthine Italian real estate laws. Buying in
Italy can be just a bit complicated, suggests Benedetta Vigano, an agent in
Milan, with some understatement. Italy is often caricatured as a nation of
crazed bureaucrats; doubters need only try to leave a grocery store without
getting a receipt for a soda (it is actually illegal). As for real estate
transactions, there are not two, but three legal and binding stages of the
purchase. The first is the offer, which includes a nonrefundable deposit; the
amount is negotiated between the buyer and the seller, but normally ranges from
2 to 3 percent of the total asking price. Inspections, title searches and lien
checks are done before this stage, unlike in the United States. Careful
preparation before this point is the best way to avoid
disappointment.
Approximately one month after the offer, the parties move to the second stage, called il compromesso, or the full preliminary contract. At this point, the buyer hands over 20 to 30 percent of the sales price, minus the deposit, and the agent’s commission is paid. Two to three months later, the buyer and seller sign the final transfer deed, or rogito, and a bank check changes hands. In addition to an agent, a buyer will also rely on the services of an Italian notary, or notaio. Our agent will probably recommend one who will handle the official records and check for title discrepancies, liens or other outstanding claims. A good agent will have access to reputable people, and a licensed local agent will carry insurance against some mishaps, such as title squabbles. A buyer will also require a local geometra, or surveyor, who will inspect the land and ensure that it matches its registered description. The geometra prepares a report describing the boundaries of the property and its overall condition. Gray Areas Taxes and fees can add up quite quickly. These include a stamp duty that ranges from 3 to 7 percent; the notaio’s fee, which can run more than $5,000 on a $2.5 million property; the geometra’s fee, which may be $1,000 to $2,000; a real estate tax of 3 percent, if you are buying from an individual; and local taxes, generally 0.4 to 0.8 percent of the assessed value. Italy is also notorious for “adjustments” made between the actual and the declared value of a home; buyers are generally expected to make a cash payment to cover the difference. Although sellers do not demand these adjustments with quite as much swagger as in the past, it pays to be aware of this cultural anachronism. “It’s sort of legal and sort of not—and sort of standard,” says Barbara Schaefer, a broker with New York-based Eychner Associates. Today, we can pay for the adjustments with a bank check, rather than a pile of cash in a briefcase. Italy also charges nonresidents a premium on many services. This can be as much as 50 percent more on expenses such as property taxes and water, electricity and phone bills. These charges vary from region to region, and from town to town. Whether we emerge unscathed from these negotiations depends greatly on the expertise of our local legal team. Buyers at the higher end of the market do enjoy some advantage here, as reputable well-established agents with strong networks of trustworthy people will be easier to find. But Italy’s mania for such idiosyncrasies as the infamous rubber stamps are part of the country’s charms and are to be embraced if we hope for a relatively angst-free transaction. “Once people get here, they want to stay,” says Schaefer, who lived in Italy for 12 years. “With all of its difficulties and contradictions, it’s still a warm and wonderful place. You take it to heart.” With millions of readers raptly following every slap of the trowel in Frances Mayes’ Under the Tuscan Sun, it almost seems like a buyer is missing out if he is not getting frustrated with the “colorful” workers who restore—or neglect to restore—a recently purchased villa. In reality, Zecca remembers the shock he felt when the master mason showed up. “He basically had a bucket and two hammers. Three years later, though, our home was perfect.” But it was three years of careful oversight, with the Zeccas living just down the road all the while, visiting the house constantly. Zecca does not believe he could have done it any other way. Those who cannot devote this amount of time can work with an agent who
specializes in restorations, such as Greg Evans of Tuscan Hills, a real estate
and furnishings company based in Princeton, N.J. Although Evans also handles
properties in mint condition, he primarily offers help restoring the Mayes-type
ruin in Tuscany. In this region, a fixer-upper is often the best option,
according to Evans, as new construction in rural Tuscany is restricted, and many
of the most interesting properties remaining are in need of ground-up
renovation. Evans will do as much or as little of the work as his customer
desires, in concert with a sister office in San Gimigiano. “We have some clients
who are very hands-on, flying in constantly to visit the property,” Evans says,
“and some who are completely hands-off, doing everything by email.” Evans, who
restored a 200-year-old farmhouse for himself, suggests that it could take $1
million to $2 million to restore a five- or six-bedroom farmhouse to luxury
standards. Expect the process to take 12 to 14 months. Evans believes this is
money well spent. One of his clients recently purchased a Tuscan farmhouse for
$300,000, and invested $1.2 million in a restoration project. Evans believes it
would sell for between $2.5 million and $2.75 million now. |