The land that was more complicated than the house

This is a continuation of “The house that had to leave”. After the house was sold, the client came back, this time with land to sell.

I thought land would be easier

After some time, the same owner contacted me again.

This time, the task was to sell plots of land.

I thought that after the modular house, land would be easier. At least it did not have to be transported.

The plots were large, around three hectares each. Forest, open land, a road, proximity to Tallinn.

In a listing, it could all fit into a few attractive sentences.

But first we had to answer the main question for a buyer: can a residential house be built there?

One of the plots had agricultural purpose and was located in Rebala, a protected historical landscape area.

A large area did not mean freedom to build.

Engineering networks and their protection zones crossed the land.

Part of the plot fell within the protection zone of a state road.

We had to consider forest, distances from boundaries and neighbouring residential buildings, archaeological heritage and requirements for preserving the landscape.

I had to go through geodetic materials, conditions from the municipality and approvals from several authorities.

The answer was positive: construction was possible.

But only in a certain part of the plot, while preserving tall trees and with architecture suitable for the historical environment.

One residential house and up to two auxiliary buildings were allowed. Restrictions were set for area, height, roof shape and facade materials.

Even the colour and appearance could not be left entirely to the future owner’s taste.

Another unexpected point appeared in the documents: the plot was in an area with increased radon risk.

That also had to be considered during design.

The phrase “building right exists” looked simple in the listing.

Behind it stood work with the municipality, Muinsuskaitseamet, Transpordiamet, surveyors and network owners.

When the restrictions on the first plot finally became clear, it turned out that the problem with the second object was not in the land.

It was in the owner’s documents.

The seller was not the only owner

The second plot brought a different task.

I had been communicating with a person I had long known as the client, but the documents showed that the owner of the plot was a family member.

Then we had to clarify marital status, the property regime between spouses and authority to sell.

The owners were in Germany.

The transaction required a notarised power of attorney, apostille and translation into Estonian.

Copies of the documents were ready.

But the notary needed the original.

So a transaction that was already agreed became dependent on an envelope travelling from Germany.

We looked for the tracking number, clarified which service had been used and watched whether the documents would arrive before the scheduled notary appointment.

Several hectares of land, the buyer, the seller and the notary were ready for the transaction.

One sheet of paper was missing.

The documents arrived in time. But shortly before the notary, another question appeared, one no one had discussed before: what exactly stays inside the old hangar?

A hangar appeared the day before the notary

Shortly before the transaction, the notary asked an additional question: what exactly is located on the plot and who does it belong to?

There was an arched hangar on the land.

Inside it were items, equipment and machinery.

The wording “the buyer has seen everything” was not suitable for a notarial contract.

We needed confirmation from the owner that the items belonged to him and would be transferred together with the plot.

The buyer had to confirm that he had inspected them, understood their condition and accepted them without warranty.

The contract separately stated that the seller was not obliged to clear the plot or remove the contents of the hangar.

In the morning, it was just an old storage space with things inside.

By evening, it had become a separate block in the notarial contract.

The transaction took place.

After that, we still had to check the recipient of the money, the reservation amount paid earlier, the agency commission and the final invoice.

Signing at the notary completes the transfer of ownership, but it does not always close every organisational and financial loose end.

The first email could have been deleted as spam.

Instead, three transactions grew out of it.

First I sold a house without land and documented the handover of an object the buyer had to dismantle and move away.

Then I worked out where construction was allowed on the plot, which zones crossed it, what roof shape was required and why radon had to be considered in the project.

Then I waited for a power of attorney from Germany, clarified the family property regime and, the day before the notary, defined the legal fate of the items inside a hangar.

None of these tasks was mentioned in the first email.

The client usually sees the end result: the listing is published, the buyer is found, the contract is signed.

The real work happens between those points.

Email addresses stop working, dates in the contract do not match, the buyer goes directly to the seller, and the transaction depends on an original document somewhere in international delivery.

That is why two identical requests to “sell an object” almost never mean the same work.