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Forget hdb. Get this instead
- Thread starter syed putra
- Start date
chinks won’t buy as jap elderlies prefer to die at home.
That great. It make things cheaper. Malays will move on when japs offer incentives,
moreover, toyama is notorious for being the epicenter of the itai-itai disease in jp. it was 1 of the top 4 pollution pandemics in jp, but this pandemic wasn’t naturally caused but a result of cadmium poisoning by mines in the nearby mountains. you can see the snow peaked mountains in the backdrop of toyama city. it’s a stunning prefecture in terms of scenic beauty, but since it’s located on the west coast of jp facing tiongcock and gookland with mountainous terrain it has little to no value in agriculture and urban sprawl thus indiscriminate mining is the main draw.
Yeah, main media leepok many many satik Sinki, Jiuhu, Pinoy and Hongkee all cheong Nippon property to huat big big...
More sexciting news is expected from Good Hands
Looks like a nice hiking location. Good place to retire. Better than NZ as its not secluded.
zinc mines are still up there in the mountains releasing copious amounts of cadmium into the rivers. it’s still toxic to drink the water there, just that the jp gov keeps suppressing the scientific facts by telling residents the water is ok to drink.
There are at least 11 million empty houses in Japan - akiya - abandoned after the death of their elderly owners. These are mainly in the rural areas and the descendants who inherited them don't want to move in as they're working in the big cities.
They're going cheap: you can get a nice 3-bedroom, 2,000 sq ft house with a small yard for $30k-50k. Way more value than HDB pigeonholes. Only catch is that as most of them are in a decrepit condition, you'd have to spend a bit of money on renovations, which don't come cheap in Japan because of unionised labour and high material cost. An entire industry has been set up to manage, market and finance the sale of these properties.
* * *
TOKYO – When Mr Jaya Thursfield found a house he wanted to buy in Japan a few years ago, friends and family told him to forget it.
The place was not worth the trouble, they said.
After all, it stood in a forest of shoulder-high weeds after being abandoned about seven years earlier – one of the millions of vacant houses known as akiya, Japanese for “empty house” – throughout the country.
But Mr Thursfield, 46, an Australian software developer, was not deterred.
Through the overgrown garden, he could see that it was special: The black roof tiles cascaded down to slightly curving eaves that were much higher off the ground than those of most houses.
The entrance hall had its own gable tile roof. If the 251 sq m house looked more like a Buddhist temple than a farmhouse, it is because it was built by a temple architect in 1989.
Mr Thursfield and his Japanese-born wife, Ms Chihiro, had moved to Japan from London in 2017 with their two young sons and a dream of buying a home with a big yard.
The plan was to purchase a vacant lot and build a house on it, but land is expensive in Japan and their budget would not allow it. So, they turned to the growing supply of abandoned houses, which are cheaper and often come with more land.
They are far from the only ones.
“We would never have been able to afford a house of this quality and size if it wasn’t an akiya,” Ms Chihiro Thursfield, 49, said.
As Japan’s population shrinks and more properties go unclaimed, an emerging segment of buyers, feeling less tethered to overcrowded cities, is seeking out rural architecture in need of some love.
The most recent government data, from the 2018 Housing and Land survey, reported about 8.5 million akiya across the country – roughly 14 per cent of the country’s housing stock – but observers say that there are many more today.
The Nomura Research Institute puts the number at more than 11 million, and predicts that akiya could exceed 30 per cent of all houses in Japan by 2033.
The interior of Mr Jaya Thursfield’s remodelled home in Ibaraki, Japan. PHOTO: NYTIMES
The Thursfields’ house, which sits among the paddies in southern Ibaraki Prefecture, about 45 minutes from central Tokyo, had been deserted after the previous owner’s family refused to inherit it upon the owner’s death.
The local municipality took over the property and put it up for auction with a 5 million yen (S$50,000) minimum bid, but it failed to sell.
When it landed on the block again, Mr Thursfield decided to try his luck. After giving it a quick inspection with an architect friend and finding no major issues despite the years of neglect, he nabbed the house for 3 million yen.
Houses in Japan typically decrease in value over time until they are worthless – the cultural legacy of post-World War II construction and shifting building codes – with only the land retaining value.
Owners feel little incentive to maintain an ageing house and buyers often seek to demolish them and start fresh. But that can be expensive.
Others aim to preserve what is there.
“There was no way we wanted to knock it down and build something new. It was too beautiful. So, we decided to renovate instead,” the Thursfield family said.
“I’ve always been someone who likes to jump in the deep end, take a few risks and learn new things, so I was confident that we would manage somehow.”
Since buying the farmhouse in 2019, the couple has spent about US$150,000 on renovations, and there is more to do. The Thursfield family has documented the project on YouTube, drawing more than 200,000 subscribers.
While the Thursfields’ house had been abandoned by the previous owner’s heirs, some home owners died without ever naming an inheritor.
Others leave their properties to relatives who refuse to sell family land out of respect for their elders, leaving the house to wither.
“In rural areas, there is a long history of ancestral owners of akiya living in the houses and on the land,” said Mr Kazunobu Tsutsui, a professor of rural geography and economics at Tottori University who lives in a renovated akiya built more than a century ago.
“Therefore, even after moving to the city, families will not give up their akiya easily.”
Now, officials on both local and national levels are taking steps to give them a push.
“Poorly maintained akiya can mar the scenery as well as endanger residents’ lives and property if they collapse,” said Mr Kazuhiro Nagao, a city official in Sakata, along the west coast, where heavy snowfall can damage unattended structures.
“We’re partly subsidising demolitions, collecting neighbourhood association reports on akiya and trying to make owners aware of the problem by holding briefings”.
Akiya are increasingly seen not just as a threat to suburban and rural markets but to the emotional health of the country, sparking family disputes over inherited properties.
That, in turn, has led to a cottage industry of akiya consultants like Mr Takamitsu Wada, chief executive of Akiya Katsuyo, who acts as a counsellor for squabbling relatives, often urging them to act before their properties become a lost cause.
“In many cases, the parents die without making clear their wishes regarding the family home, or they develop dementia and find it difficult to discuss these things,” Mr Wada said.
“In such cases, the children may feel guilty about getting rid of the family home and may often choose to leave it unoccupied.”
Municipalities across Japan are also compiling listings of vacant houses for sale or rent.
Known as “akiya banks”, they are often bare-bones webpages with a few underwhelming photos.
Some have partnered with companies like At Home, which currently lists akiya in 658 of Japan’s 1,741 municipalities.
“Akiya banks are run by municipal office workers, the majority of which often do not have any experience in real estate,” said Mr Matthew Ketchum, a Pittsburgh native and co-founder of Akiya & Inaka, a Tokyo-based real estate consultancy.
“The existing solutions do not align with the needs of modern buyers and sellers.” Mr Ketchum’s firm is one of several that have sprung up to capitalise on the akiya glut, matching vacant homes with curious buyers.
The exterior of the home that Ms Reiko and Mr Takahiro Okada are selling through Akiya & Inaka in the Hacioji area of Tokyo. PHOTO: NYTIMES
https://www.straitstimes.com/asia/e...lions-of-empty-houses-want-to-buy-one-for-33k
They're going cheap: you can get a nice 3-bedroom, 2,000 sq ft house with a small yard for $30k-50k. Way more value than HDB pigeonholes. Only catch is that as most of them are in a decrepit condition, you'd have to spend a bit of money on renovations, which don't come cheap in Japan because of unionised labour and high material cost. An entire industry has been set up to manage, market and finance the sale of these properties.
* * *
Japan has millions of empty houses. Want to buy one for $33k?
UPDATED 19 APR 2023 AT 5:46 PM SGTTOKYO – When Mr Jaya Thursfield found a house he wanted to buy in Japan a few years ago, friends and family told him to forget it.
The place was not worth the trouble, they said.
After all, it stood in a forest of shoulder-high weeds after being abandoned about seven years earlier – one of the millions of vacant houses known as akiya, Japanese for “empty house” – throughout the country.
But Mr Thursfield, 46, an Australian software developer, was not deterred.
Through the overgrown garden, he could see that it was special: The black roof tiles cascaded down to slightly curving eaves that were much higher off the ground than those of most houses.
The entrance hall had its own gable tile roof. If the 251 sq m house looked more like a Buddhist temple than a farmhouse, it is because it was built by a temple architect in 1989.
Mr Thursfield and his Japanese-born wife, Ms Chihiro, had moved to Japan from London in 2017 with their two young sons and a dream of buying a home with a big yard.
The plan was to purchase a vacant lot and build a house on it, but land is expensive in Japan and their budget would not allow it. So, they turned to the growing supply of abandoned houses, which are cheaper and often come with more land.
They are far from the only ones.
“We would never have been able to afford a house of this quality and size if it wasn’t an akiya,” Ms Chihiro Thursfield, 49, said.
As Japan’s population shrinks and more properties go unclaimed, an emerging segment of buyers, feeling less tethered to overcrowded cities, is seeking out rural architecture in need of some love.
The most recent government data, from the 2018 Housing and Land survey, reported about 8.5 million akiya across the country – roughly 14 per cent of the country’s housing stock – but observers say that there are many more today.
The Nomura Research Institute puts the number at more than 11 million, and predicts that akiya could exceed 30 per cent of all houses in Japan by 2033.
The interior of Mr Jaya Thursfield’s remodelled home in Ibaraki, Japan. PHOTO: NYTIMES
The Thursfields’ house, which sits among the paddies in southern Ibaraki Prefecture, about 45 minutes from central Tokyo, had been deserted after the previous owner’s family refused to inherit it upon the owner’s death.
The local municipality took over the property and put it up for auction with a 5 million yen (S$50,000) minimum bid, but it failed to sell.
When it landed on the block again, Mr Thursfield decided to try his luck. After giving it a quick inspection with an architect friend and finding no major issues despite the years of neglect, he nabbed the house for 3 million yen.
Houses in Japan typically decrease in value over time until they are worthless – the cultural legacy of post-World War II construction and shifting building codes – with only the land retaining value.
Owners feel little incentive to maintain an ageing house and buyers often seek to demolish them and start fresh. But that can be expensive.
Others aim to preserve what is there.
“There was no way we wanted to knock it down and build something new. It was too beautiful. So, we decided to renovate instead,” the Thursfield family said.
“I’ve always been someone who likes to jump in the deep end, take a few risks and learn new things, so I was confident that we would manage somehow.”
Since buying the farmhouse in 2019, the couple has spent about US$150,000 on renovations, and there is more to do. The Thursfield family has documented the project on YouTube, drawing more than 200,000 subscribers.
While the Thursfields’ house had been abandoned by the previous owner’s heirs, some home owners died without ever naming an inheritor.
Others leave their properties to relatives who refuse to sell family land out of respect for their elders, leaving the house to wither.
“In rural areas, there is a long history of ancestral owners of akiya living in the houses and on the land,” said Mr Kazunobu Tsutsui, a professor of rural geography and economics at Tottori University who lives in a renovated akiya built more than a century ago.
“Therefore, even after moving to the city, families will not give up their akiya easily.”
Now, officials on both local and national levels are taking steps to give them a push.
“Poorly maintained akiya can mar the scenery as well as endanger residents’ lives and property if they collapse,” said Mr Kazuhiro Nagao, a city official in Sakata, along the west coast, where heavy snowfall can damage unattended structures.
“We’re partly subsidising demolitions, collecting neighbourhood association reports on akiya and trying to make owners aware of the problem by holding briefings”.
Akiya are increasingly seen not just as a threat to suburban and rural markets but to the emotional health of the country, sparking family disputes over inherited properties.
That, in turn, has led to a cottage industry of akiya consultants like Mr Takamitsu Wada, chief executive of Akiya Katsuyo, who acts as a counsellor for squabbling relatives, often urging them to act before their properties become a lost cause.
“In many cases, the parents die without making clear their wishes regarding the family home, or they develop dementia and find it difficult to discuss these things,” Mr Wada said.
“In such cases, the children may feel guilty about getting rid of the family home and may often choose to leave it unoccupied.”
Municipalities across Japan are also compiling listings of vacant houses for sale or rent.
Known as “akiya banks”, they are often bare-bones webpages with a few underwhelming photos.
Some have partnered with companies like At Home, which currently lists akiya in 658 of Japan’s 1,741 municipalities.
“Akiya banks are run by municipal office workers, the majority of which often do not have any experience in real estate,” said Mr Matthew Ketchum, a Pittsburgh native and co-founder of Akiya & Inaka, a Tokyo-based real estate consultancy.
“The existing solutions do not align with the needs of modern buyers and sellers.” Mr Ketchum’s firm is one of several that have sprung up to capitalise on the akiya glut, matching vacant homes with curious buyers.
The exterior of the home that Ms Reiko and Mr Takahiro Okada are selling through Akiya & Inaka in the Hacioji area of Tokyo. PHOTO: NYTIMES
https://www.straitstimes.com/asia/e...lions-of-empty-houses-want-to-buy-one-for-33k
