What’s The Best Type of Property For BTL/To Rent Out?

If you can suddenly feel your stomach crawling out of your hairy butthole because you’re concerned that my formula doesn’t match yours, don’t worry – just because your formula sucks royal balls, it doesn’t mean you can’t turn things around.

No, I’m joking. To each their own ‘n all that.

I’m truly surprised I haven’t already covered this boring-arse subject, because it’s a question every landlord asks at some point. Better late than never, ‘spose. In any case…

If you’re a crusty old veteran in the game, then you’ve probably got your own makeshift formula, and you’re also likely too stubborn to deviate. I can respect that. However, please don’t try and convert me with your hog-wash! You can do as you please behind closed doors, just don’t go flaunting it in front of my face! It’s disgusting.

I know for sure that many landlords are rabid fans of three bedroom houses. In fact, what prompted me to tackle this topic is a Tweet that recently appeared on my timeline, from a fellow landlord, that was mentally ejaculating over three bedroom houses.

I mean, they’re okay’ish, but nothing spesh.

“WTF are you smoking, muttonhead?”, is what I should have responded with (I didn’t). Instead, I’ve decided to take the moral high ground and bore you to death with my take on this exceptionally bone-dry issue… Enjoy!

My definition of “best”

Before getting into the thick of it, I should define what I mean by “best”, otherwise there’s a good chance none of this will make sense.

Is the “best” BTL property the one that returns the most money (i.e. Return On Investment)?

For the vast majority of landlords, probably. And that’s fair, and arguably the best approach. However, that’s not the case for moi.

But don’t get it twisted, I’m definitely in this game to stack cheddar to the high heavens in order to create enough wealth to buy your family and put them in monkey suits for fun, but I’m also acutely aware of how utterly limited my tolerance is for pressure. In other words, I’m not a fan of meddling with resource hungry and volatile situations; I’d rather take a pay cut for the privilege of hiding under a rock so I can blissfully avoid stress. And, to be fair, I’ve made no secret about the fact that I’m one giant fanny, and that’s why I’ve always endorsed my low-risk property investment strategy. A strategy so sensible that it’s unlikely to get anyone rich anytime soon. The golden rule is simple: minimal debt (which is terminal cancer for scaling, and goes against the “debt culture” everyone seems to be peddling and/or embracing).

While some people thrive under pressure and eagerly wave it over like they’re signalling a street worker from across the road, I can only admire such brashness and resilience from afar. Moreover, I have an extremely low barrier to entry for what qualifies as hassle. I think old age has something to do with it, I’m definitely getting worse. I find myself saying, “what’s the fucking point?” to pretty much everything these days.

“Sounds like you’re not cut out to be a landlord, you miserable prick?”

it’s true, maybe I’m not built for it. Alas, I’ve gone too far now, I’m deep in the game, so fuck you! I’m stuck here. So all I can do is attempt to reduce my exposure to turbulence as much as possible.

That’s precisely why I avoid throbbing headaches like HMOs; they contain are too many moving parts, which makes the margin for error terrifying, and significantly greater than single-lets. The thought alone of dealing with five different households under the same roof, let alone the high tenant turnover rate, makes me sweat 2ft dildos.

“Hey Landlord, Arnold keeps pissing on the toilet seat!! Can you please tell him to stop?”

“Not really, but I’ll happily hack his pecker off and toss it down your gullet. Capeesh, darling?”

Who actually wants to willingly expose themselves to these nonsense situations? “What’s the fucking point?”

Miraculously, I’m still able to be objective and appreciate and understand the merits of HMOs, and why so many landlords lap it up. Apparently stuffing an army of humans into an inadequately small property is extremely profitable, and the aggro that comes with it is a fair price to cough up. Especially if you’re a busy-body that adores problem-solving.

However, ultimately, I strive to keep my investments within the tiny and declining range of my personal tolerance threshold, while still remaining profitable, even if that means hindering my earning potential. It’s a balancing act.

Who knows, you might have a set of gigantic cahoonas that’s willing to manage a crumbling 8 bedroom Victorian death-trap, in comparison to my puny acorns, that can’t even stomach a basic and modern flat.

Why a house (and not a flat)?

You can actually buy the freehold of houses, unlike flats, which are those ghastly leasehold things.

Leasehold properties can be such miserable ball-aches, can’t they?

• Leases need extending
• Sub-letting restrictions
• Sinking fund
• Service charge
• Ground rent
• The quirks that come with communal areas
• …etc!

I go into more detail in my Are Leasehold Properties Good For Buy-To-Let Investments? blog post, if you’re vaguely interested.

I know a buttload of you have leasehold BTLs, and while that’s totally cool, I’m also hopelessly compelled to offer you my condolences.

Why two bedrooms?

• Two bedroom properties hit the sweet spot because it attracts the broadest market i.e. they appeal to couples, small families and singletons.

  I don’t think anything else hits it quite the same. Apart from your mum. (I’m sorry, the joke was calling, I couldn’t resist. I swear I’m not 14yrs old).

• The bigger the property, the more resources it requires to maintain.

  I know many landlords can empathise with that dreaded feeling of having to refresh a property in-between tenancies; we can’t market the dump until it’s fit for viewings, so every day is an expensive and anxious race to the finish line.

  My anxiety levels rocket off the charts before having to repaint/revamp an entire house, because I know the entire process can be emotionally and physically exasperating. Fuck, just thinking about going through that [again] makes me want to jump off a cliff.

  I can’t even begin to fathom how much I’d loathe my existence if I knew I had to tackle a property larger than two bedrooms.

• Similarly, larger properties naturally attract larger households, which inevitably heightens the odds of collateral damage.

Why parking?

I don’t know what your experience has shown you; mine has made it clear that driveways and allocated parking bays are highly desirable features, particularly outside of metropolitan city centres, where motor vehicles are as critical as a beating heart to survival. No one wants to be scrambling around for parking spots, least of all after clocking off from our dead-end nine-to-five.

Parking space is always in demand and has always proven to massively increase traction.

Why a back garden?

Again, this ties in with creating maximum appeal and meeting demand. Maximising appeal – without giving mixed signals to completely different audiences – is the name of the game!

Green gardens to families are like cocaine to stock-brokers. They can’t get enough of it.

In reality, this is really a non-issue though, because we’d be hard pressed to find a two bedroom house without a back garden, so it’s not a feature we’d really need to hunt for – it’s usually just there, like the roof. A two bedroom house without a back garden would be weird. However, I thought I’d toss it onto the list because I personally wouldn’t buy a house without one.

What about…

Allocated parking space, back garden… what about something more glamourous like a downstairs lavatory with a bidet?

I hear you, good sir. Valid point. The market for ass-washing devices on the ground floor is exploding, after all.

To that, I say, if there are grounds to believe that there’s a bog too few, then it’s usually possible to add one, albeit at a cost. However, neither love nor money can cure the chronic ailments of absent land [required to accommodate parking space and a garden].

What I mean is, there are potential shortfalls and problems that can never be fixed, which can result in a constant Achilles heel, ultimately impacting the success and failure of a BTL, so it’s always worth considering what can and cannot be changed.

“I THINK YOU’RE COMPLETELY WRONG!!”

Alright, settle down, Alice, no need to blow a gasket.

If this is where you ended up, then I’ve failed you miserably. Or, alternatively, you’re a total mess and you’ve failed yourself and your monkey-suited family. Let’s just say it’s the alternative for the sake of ease and sticking with the odds.

My point is, there is no one right answer (although, there are plenty of wrong ones); everyone should apply their own best suited strategy. You do you.

As a final point, I do want to say that all bets are probably off if I happen to unearth an absolute bargain, even if it’s a gut-wrenching 2+ bedroom property that will most likely result in self-induced vomiting on a colossus scale and a rapid decline in my mental health. There’s always a glimmer of hope that I might go off script if a rare opportunity presents itself.

As the youth of today say, YOLO!