Floor plans

Well I've been meaning to get our floor plans scanned in for some time, but with one thing or another, plus the fact that we haven't figured out how to scan on our all-in-one printer gizmo, well, it's sort of dragged on a little longer than one would have hoped.

Still, we're there now as one of my nice team members has done the scanning for me. Almost worth popping into the office for during the Christmas break. Almost...

So, without any further ado, let me introduce yer to the inner gubbins of our Huf Haus...


As stated a couple of times in previous posts, our house is a mildly modified 3.09.30, which loosely translates as a 3-axis house, each axis 30cm wide, and it's the model number 09. Now most of the mods are on the ground floor layout, so it's just as well that it's the logical place to start with.

Just to the left of that table and chair combination you'd normally find what's known as an Erker in German, but you and I'd know it better as a bay window. But not one of those 1930s semi-circular bay windows. It's a sort of oblong extension three of those segments long, and about a segment wide. Well, to cut a long story short, said bay window thingy would have pushed our living area too close to the external boundary on that side of the house, so it had been wiped off the floor plan before we took over the project. Oh, and we got a credit for the saved material cost from those lovely Huf Haus peeps.

The next mod was the removal of a few bits of solid and glass interior walling that the standard house has here and there to 'shield' the living room areas from the horrors of the main entrance. Can't have too much space, we felt, and going by feedback from a few Huf Haus owners, we did the right thing.

The last significant mod is a bit subtle on the surface, but somewhat significant under the hood. The standard kitchen area (marked Kochen on the plan) for this house has two parallel solid walls running three segment steps in. This leaves yer a fairly narrow kitchen, which plenty of owners struggle to make some kind of sense of. When Claudia and I visited Hartenfels, we naturally took a big interest in the 3.09.30 show house that would be a close analogue to what we would be building... only mirror reversed and sans Erker. It's the grey 3-axis house, and if you'd been there you'd likely remember it. Anyways, that house had been modified so that the parallel walls only ran two segments into the house. This liberates some space betwixt kitchen and the gallery area, which is a nifty place for a cooking island. However, it also means that one of the main cross beams that holds up the entire house on a windy day has to be moved one segment step towards the entrance side of the house. A major modification behind the scenes which would normally require much sucking of pencils to implement. The great thing is that all we had to do is to ask the nice Huf Haus people to copy 'n' paste the show house solution, which they did at no extra cost... and of course all the structural due diligence had already been done. Or so one assumes, as the show house didn't show any signs of toppling over.

Oh and we replaced the usual lounge exterior door with a whopping big 3m sliding door. As, inevitably, does everyone else, so leave some budget aside for this.

That's it for the ground floor, so upstairs we go...


...where we find an almost standard floor layout.

One of the balconies has been deleted due to its proximity to the outside parking area. The official reason was that it would have cut out daylight. However, I well remember my own childhood, and therefore cannot imagine my wee lads resisting the temptation to leap from balcony to parking area and vice versa. Nah, it had to go.

The open gallery is slightly smaller due to the deletion of the Erker down below, but believe me it's still a soddin' big gaping maw that might give the vertigious amongst us something to think about when pausing for breath at the top of the stairs. One would consider a safety net, if one wasn't sure that the lads would use it as a trampoline.

Up above the landing we have a couple of skylights cut into the very top of the roof. One last minute change was to ensure that these could be electrically opened and shut from down down down below. A bit pricy, but essential for anyone without an extra long pogo stick. Or jet pack.

Lastly, (and contrary to the floor plan) we reversed the sense of the door to the little cubby hole next to the stairs so that it opens outwards not inwards. More storage space that way, right.

And that's all folks, so down to the Keller...


...via the 'optional' Keller stairs. Believe it or not, the continuation of the main stairs down to the Keller are not standard. One imagines that many a Huf Haus client goes bananas when they first find this out, but we (like yourself now, so no excuse) had been prewarned and therefore took it better than most. Cannot remember the exact cost, but it's lots and lots. Seems some owners would prefer to use a ladder or parachute or that jet pack to descend/ascend to their wine cellar... well, to be honest I cannot see an earthly reason why such an essential component of any Huf Haus could be optional. Nuff said on the matter.

Ignore the various waste water pipes on the floor plan. They'll be happily channelling away waste water safely out of eye and mind for many decades to come.

The standard cellar doors are metal horrors, by the way, so we replaced all with something more attractive.

We tinkered about with this and that wall until we ended up with four separate rooms: the laundry/heating room; the main storage cellar; the highly important and super secret wine cellar; and last, but not least, the bloody bloody bloody Bastelraum, aka The Bloody Office.

Sigh.

The two exterior windows to that The Bloody Office are decidedly non-standard, and have an exterior 'cut' into the garden to channel at least a wee bit of daylight to the pale sedentary slave below. Also non-standard is its 'civilised' heated floor and neatly plastered walls that extend to the stairs area. Also the extra electrickery wot yer need; phones, internet, TV, lights, camera, action. All in all, The Office has easily been the most contentious part of the interior, eclipsed solely by the parking area land grab for time, expense and general pain in the arseness. Consider this: our above land Huf Haus is already vast at 220 square metres and offers two rooms surplus to our immediate requirements; a coin toss could have decided which would be the spare room for visitors, leaving the loser (winner) as a perfectly functional office. But oh no, we decided to use some of the 'wasted' cellar area as the office instead. A 35 square metre area that's literally bigger than my first apartment. Hmm, one recalls a story about a baboon with its hand stuck in a hole in a tree because it refused to unclasp the fistful of nuts it had discovered there. Well, The Bloody Office is that fistful of nuts. It's an extra cost of somewhere in the region of CHF 50,000 or GBP 20,000 for an extra room we didn't need. Madness!

Still, it'll be nice when it's finished.

That's me for 2006, so wishing you and your loved ones a very happy New Year. Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Status on Christmas Eve

I popped over to the house for a wee look at lunchtime. All was quiet in the village and at the house. The temperature was down to -3 degrees C, so the ground was frozen, but little more than a slight dusting of snow about the place. Nice to be able to walk all around the house without muddy feet as the icy mud crust easily supported my weight.

I tested our new key and it worked perfectly. The key was a special arrangement with the Huf Haus people. Normally they avoid giving the owner a key too early due to (one supposes) safety reasons. If you really really want one, then really really ask for one and you'll really really get one.

As the floor hadn't had more than a couple of days to begin drying I just stood outside and looked in. The new floor looks... flat. Erm, not much more to add other than the fact that it looks a lot better than, if not as interesting as, the expanse of snaking heating pipes that were there before. When I later circled around outside of the house looking at this and that, I looked into the Keller windows and gazed down into the upstairs floor from the parking area, and was rewarded with visual proof that all interior floors were now nice and flatly cemented. Done. Good.

So where are we now?


Well, looking back on this blog I see that the first sod of turf was moved on the 19th September, and it's now the 24th December. So, just three months have passed in which our untouched green alpine meadow has been transformed into our dream Huf Haus, albeit one still awaiting a few necessities before we can move in.

The ground has been made safe from subsidence or slippage. The cellar has been built, and the small matter of a whopping big Huf Haus shoved on top of it. The first stage of landscaping completed so we have some steps to our house and the paving stones to get us to our front door. The electrics and water are in and functional, as are the interior and exterior drainage pipes. The wooden covers for various nooks and crannies that channel cables and pipes within the house are all safely nailed/bolted/glued on. The heating system and maze of underfloor heating pipes are present and correct, functional, but not to be switched on just yet. The flooring has been cemented in.


So what has still to be done in the next couple of months?

Well, the kitchen is not much more than a few pipes and wires hanging out of the wall, as are both the downstairs and upstairs bathrooms. The bath itself is on the balcony for now, as are two loo-sized boxes. The parquet floor has to be laid, and the bathroom floors tiled. The cellar walls need to be prepared, whatever that means, and the part of the cellar that we decided to have 'civilised' into a spare room/office needs plastering. Then every wall needs to be painted. One imagines that all white wooden surfaces need to be painted, but I'm really not sure if the wooden bits come prepainted from the factory, or undercoated. Whatever. Oh, and then the whole lot needs cleaning cleaning and then cleaning again. And then we're still awaiting the next phases of the landscaping to sort out the garden and parking area as the exterior looks like the aftermath of some bunker busting cruise missile.

Yep, a lot more to do, but believe me, our cups are half full. We really couldn't be happier with the progress of the last three months.

Small delay to the flooring

We received a call from Herr Arkitekt (he of the bowtie) regarding the flooring situation. Seems that there's been a week or so delay in the Huf Haus people getting the flooring put on top of the floor heating pipes. And this delay will have a knock on effect on the overall schedule.

Some background...

The Dastardly Bob Salmon refers to something called screed which might be what all this is about, but one feels it's tacky to learn such vulgar blue collar construction words. However, what I do know is that some stone chip-type stuff gets put on top and all around the floor heating pipes, and then when it's all looking nice and level, cement (or it may be concrete) gets poured over the lot.

Yer then got to wait a week until this sets enough to bear the weight of the Swiss heating engineer and Huf Haus something or other engineer wot have to clump clump clump across said floor, descend down to the Keller area, walk across some more newly laid floor, and then switch on the bloody heating system. Heating system then hums for another week or so, thereby completing the two week floor drying exercise.

Now Huf Haus have a Christmas shut down period of two weeks. Very civilised way of doing business, one feels, that many companies around the world should think about implementing. The idea was to take advantage of this shutdown period by ensuring the bloody heating system is on before everyone ups tools and buggahs off to their traditional German christmas haggis dinners. As the floor needs a week to set before the heating goes on, that meant the floor had to have been down by last Friday 15th December.

Unfortunately, we've just heard the floor went down yesterday.

So, to truncate an already longish story, we have to figure out a way to coax out the local Swiss heating engineer sometime during the Christmas break. Possible, but perhaps unpopular as the company is located in an entirely different Kanton.

Even worse, we have to persuade the equivalent Huf Haus engineer to climb into his BMW, drive the 800km or so down to our house, even though his fellow German workers are all tucked up in their highland crofts watching telly. Even worse that worse, one feels that the Huf Haus engineer has only a bit of switch flicking to do, which is hardly an inspiring reason to make a 1,600km round trip. However, engineers being engineers, one can quite imagine that said job must only be done by a qualified Huf Haus engineer with a black-belt in switch flicking, and it'd be an unheard of precedent for him to give the instructions over the phone to someone a little closer to the ground.

In summary: we're delayed at least a week. And wot with that Dastardly Bob Salmon hitting a purple patch, one fears the tide has turned against us in the race to the finish.

Terra-forming II

Quick lunch time trip to the house today, just to see what's what. Well, actually to see what state our grinds are in now that the landscaping chappy and his merry band of diggers have very likely packed up until spring.

Sooooo, instead of my usual wordy blog, I thought I'd do a photo intensive post today. Ok with you lot? Then I'll begin...


Here's the view of the Zurich lake we get when taking the autobahn towards the village where we're building our Huf Haus. Please note the blue waters, radiant blue skies, sun drenched houses, and then dismiss the lot entirely. This is December 13th, so the weather is simply a continuation of the fluke Autumn we've been lucky enough to have this year. Normally December through to February are three months of continuous grey skies, with the odd, and I mean odd sunny day to relieve the monotony. And delay the suicides.


Which is why the Zurich residents escape to the mountains at the drop of a hat. It just so happens that the Autobahn trip to our new home also gives yer a dynamite Alp view.

Oh, the hardship.


Then, after a meandering road through the moraine lands above the lake we get our first glimpse of the village, and, if you look very carefully, our house.

Hmm, now's the time to give the snowline an anxious look. Ooerr, looks to be about 850m. Another couple of degrees off the average temperature, plus a snowy day, and we're up to our necks in it.


And then we arrive. Here's the rather tight and steep cul-de-sac down to our house. One will soon be able to report just how passable this is going to be during the winter months. Ooerr again.


So, here's where the landscaping chappies got to before dropping tools. We have a nice flight of main steps, plus the paving stones are down. Great stuff.


So down the steps for a closer butchers...


...still plenty of view from here...


...ahh, they left a decent gap of earth betwix paving stones and wall. Hmm, wot d'yer reckon? Ferns or moss? Or both? Let's see it from the other side...


...ok, I'm happy.

Hang on? The door's locked and nobody home. Where are the Huf Haus peeps? Probably at lunch somewhere eh? Or back in Germany? Ah well, we're talking about Huf Haus, so I don't have to police the hairy-arsed workers like those poor unfortunates that choose not to build a Huf Haus.

Ok, I'll wipe that smirk off my face. Sorry.

So it's external photos only today, which I suppose is what I popped up here for anyways.


So out again to see the rest of the land around the house. Now we intend to use wooden decking for the rest of the 'paved' areas, plus judicious applications of pebbles for that mock japanese look. One imagines that some time in the future, the mock-japanese look will be just as scorned as the mock-tudor dross that's blighted the Blighty suburbia. Until then, we intend to make hay while the sun shines.


So I climb on a pile of concrete blocks that someone helpfully left here so I can get a view from what will be the westernmost corner of our garden. Not the biggest piece of land, but it does run alongside a whopping big field of grass, which'll visually extend the greenery.

The intention is to leave the boundary between the garden and pasture land as undefined as possible. It'll work well in winter as many Swiss mountain villages up their fences so that the wires don't garotte a passing cross-country skier. However, during the summer months there be moo moo cows in them thar Alps, and they'll be after me begonias they will. Actually, I have a theory that the farmer'll put up one of those electric fences anyway, although one wonders how many times my wee lads'll get zapped before they learn to eat the grass, soil and worms on our side of the fence. Oh the joys of parenthood.


And here's the view from t'other corner. Note the big sliding door in the middle of the house. Oh and the standard Huf Haus balcony, plus the dangly chains which act as drainpipes. I watched water cascade down these a couple of weeks back. Really really neat.


And then we have our twilight zone. This is the north-eastern side of the house, and I think the sunlight situation here is obvious. The gap between house, roof and slope is bigger than the photo gives it credit for, but whatever we do here, it'll be a bit compromised. The landscapers will close most of the hole up leaving a 2m by 3m slot to give some light to those Bastelraum windows yer can see down there. The rest will be more or less level. One supposes that once the plastic wrap's been removed, some sort of stepped terracing cut into the slope, and ground fixing plants put down, we'll have something nice to look at.

Claudia fancies getting plenty of pebbles and stones put into this area, and bamboos and various big grasses. Could be yet more japanification, but only if the grasses can put up with the lower levels of light that we'll have here. Shall do some research on the matter.


And here's the view from the carport area back towards the cul-de-sac. The ground was frosted enough for me not to disappear into the mud. All seems wide enough... in fact the drive way's sooooo wide that I reckon we can remove some of the upper stones from our climbing wall. Shall talk to landscaping chappy when I next see him.


And then a look back towards the carport to confirm we've enough space to drive our cars in. Yep.


I hate to finish a blog post with a photo of a mud bath without the ladies, so I thought this last image would leave a better impression on you. And me.

Second visit from the Huf Haus blokey

So we had the second official appointment with the nice Huf Haus rep chap, who had come down from Hartenfels especially to review progress thus far.

Claudia and I arrived separately, so I rather rushed in with little time to simply look at the progress. By the time I'd caught up with the party, the discussion had just about reached the Bastelraum... the hobby room that we'd arranged to be built into the Keller with a couple of extra windows down there for natural daylight. Good thing too, because in my mitts were samples of the floor laminate that I'm going to be putting down myself into about a third of the Keller area (that's the Bastelraum plus the bottom of the stairs area. Seems impossible at first, but the thin laminate board plus a sort of skinny underlay rubber stuff adds up to about 1cm in total. And thus the Huf Haus work of putting down the underfloor heating pipes, plus the stuff they put down on top of that, has to be exactly 1cm short of the final desired height.

Obvious stuff, but yer'd be amazed how many people stuff this up.




Anyways, said laminate passed the Huf Haus inspection, and I left it down there in case the rest of the Huf Haus people needed a further scratch and sniff session. It's that sort of whitewashed wood grain stuff, expertly chosen by Claudia (heh heh) to bring yet more light in and look clean and smart. Should look good, even if the bloke wot's gonna shove it down has little idea what he's doing as he works in a bank. Hmm, must be careful not to lay it down over anything bumpy, like one of the kids.

One thing that I couldn't help noticing were the snaky floor heating pipes that were, well, snaking their way all over the place. The shapes they made were interesting to look at (for a few minutes, anyway) and as always you could see the love that went into laying them down. I took a few photos for the rest of the world to peer at, so one hopes the images do the snakes some justice. Note I sneeked in a photo of the gorgeous, pouting Claudia 'cos she's far more photogenic than me. Ditto the hairy-arses doing the hard work.

As we ascended to the ground floor, and later the upstairs, it became clear that the floor heating work's been fully completed throughout... and it looked like a lot of work indeed. One believes they'll be laying some sort of gravelly stuff on top of that to fill in the spaces, before it all gets coated in a nice flat surface of (I suppose) concrete. Or is it cement? Oh lordy, I have no idea.



There was another pause in the bathroom, where we committed to have the wooden box thing that covers the sink pipes trimmed down to standard Huf Haus height. Not sure what happened, but it may be that the drawings for the non-Huf Haus sink unit that we've chosen (From some fancy bathroom company calling itself 4B. Really, 4B. Bloody pretentious name, unless yer a pencil) had an example wall box shown on it, and this was taken literally by the ever helpful Huf Haus people. They increased the height of the wall box on the assumption that's what we wanted, so it's now too high to allow us to place a mirror against the remaining wall above it. Well, maybe a mirror for giraffes would work.

Anyways, it'll be cut back down to size when the carpenter people descend on us sometime in the new year. Case (almost) closed.




There was something else I thought I'd share with you lot. Somehow the underfloor heating pipes, even if not exactly what we'll be seeing when we move it, still gave us a visual sense of scale of the interior for the first time. By golly, this is going to be a bloody big house. Yes yes yes, I'm well aware that all houses look bigger when empty of furniture, especially those with large open plan spaces, but this was on a bigger scale again. The photo above gives a sense of what I mean, but you've really got to be there, as they say. We might have to set up a semaphore system for communication. And carry mobile phones with us. And a flask of hot tea in case we get isolated from the group.

Simply huge.

Oh, and some progress in the grinds. Wassa grinds? It's a posh word for gardens, innit? Anyways, the main house steps are built and as my fingers pitter-patter on this keyboard, the last of the outside floor tiles should be going down. Some daft sod forgot to take some outside photos, didn't he. Anyway, trust me; they're down. Just in the nick of time, as the forecast's somewhat bleak as the dreaded snows descend upon us this weekend. Ooer, down to 500m and probably lower. To interpret: a sprinkling of snow happens at 500m, snows worth sweeping away at 600m, and snows worth italicising at 700m. And we're at 726m. This simply means it's highly unlikely we're going to get our parking area paved until the thaw in March.

Buggah buggah buggah.

Incidentally, yer might have heard that Switzerland's a somewhat mountainous place, and thus its weather forecasts are three dimensional. Really. "Snow down to 500m" and "Freezing above 1,000m" being familar weather items to digest and talk about over a beer or three. Makes the forecasts a tad complicated to get yer head around, but it seems to work. And as there are plenty of people in this country that really do live at altitudes higher than Ben Nevis, it's a necessity.

Update to the update on the parking situation

Email back from nice neighbour regarding the parking situation. It turns out that he's not all that fussed on retaining his secondary parking space after all, so if it's alright with us, we can forget the whole thing.

Erm, ok.

Seems he wants to use this area of his land more for pretty flowers than as a bit of extra parking, and that I think we can all empathise with. It's just a shame we didn't know a month or so earlier, as all the discussions and compromising that's been going on's pretty much delayed construction of our parking area by a couple of weeks at the very least. The landscaper chappie's dubious if he can now get this this bit finished before the winter snows inevitably descend upon us. Buggah it. But then we might be very lucky, who knows.

On a brighter note, landscaping chappie commences with the construction of our final final final main steps solution, and also with the external floor tiling around our house entrance. That means that by the end of the week we can safely get in and out of the house without crossing ankle deep patches of raw mud. That'll be a real morale boost for all concerned.

Update on that Dastardly Bob Salmon's blog: his house is up, and as usual with these Huf Haus people, nicely on time. Looks very nice too. We'll wait for him to confirm which model number it actually is, but to my untrained eye, it looks like a standardish 3.06.30. Very handsome indeed. We'll let him confirm or deny, eh?

Tomorrow we have the second of our regular meets with the Huf Haus representative. Will try to listen more carefully to what he has to say, but to be honest it's hard not to get distracted gazing at stuff when yer get a wee chance to have a sniff about inside. One's been led to believe we'll be getting our own key tomorrow, so we can make our own raids at the weekend, rather than pressing our noses to cold glass windows. Good-oh.

Update on the parking situation

Regular visitors will recall that sometime in the past the original owners of my neighbours' house had 'conquered' a long triangular strip of land from the land parcel that was ultimately to be bought by ourselves. The triangle had been used to widen the neighbour's driveway to his secondary parking space (his primary parking area and garage was to the front of his house)... all this had been done using land that we'll be needing for our own driveway, ta very muchly.

Now the current owner seems to be a nice chap. All this 'liberating' had been done years before he arrived on the scene, so hardly his fault. So we'd agreed in principle that the two driveway entrance areas should be more or less at the same level, so that if his car or our car happened to put a tyre on t'other side of the boundary while negotiating the turn in (or turn out) then that would all come out in the wash. His entrance would be tricker than ours, but then ours wouldn't be easy-peasy either.

Still with me? Good...

So t'other week the Gemeinde (equivalent to a small village goverment) had turned up team-handed to review the parking area situation for both houses. They'd informed us that the main water pipe for the whole bloody village was somewhere down under our neighbour's triangle bit, and it's mandatory that at least 1.5m of earth remains over it, or it'll freeze solid during the colder winter nights. Oo-err. Other than that, they said do what you need to do but make sure you get a handshake from the neighbour. One suspects that the land grab of yesteryear was a sore point with the Gemeinde, 'cos it had happened under their noses. And this isn't exactly the largest village in Switzerland.

Anyways, by the end of last week, the heavy landscaping had resulted in a driveway-shaped terrace above our nice new retaining mega-wall, and this terrace had been widened until it had reclaimed the errant triangle. Have a butchers yerself at the photo above. You could get an aquamarine JCB digger through that gap, no problem mate. Yep, when seen in the flesh, our driveway will now be ok with or without a helpful bit of our neighbour's driveway to negotiate the corner. We're alright, Jack.

So last Saturday, with all this in mind, we meet up with said neighbour (and the landscape chappie) to discuss how we could help him with his driveway problem. Only it all went a bit strange. Read on...

He very clearly stated that whatever wall we put up between our properties to shore up his land should be a high as necessary so that his land would remain level right up to his boundary. Yes, he was very clear about this. Ok, that's his right, even if this increases our material costs dramatically. Are we clear on that? Because he'll not agree to any other solution. Erm, yes we're clear. Very. Yep. Gulp.

Next point: there's a bit of our land remaining behind our carport that seems to be unallocated on the plan. Erm, yes that's right. Could we please build this up so that it's level with his land? Erm... He would offer to plant this with some nice bushes and trees and stuff. Erm, we'll think about this... erm... erm...

Oh, and he proposes that he returns his remaining triangle of driveway back to its natural garden state. He could then plant it with nice flowers and bushes and stuff. He could then access his parking space by driving over our new driveway. Ok? Erm, erm, erm...

Well, he left us to it, and we continued our discussions with the landscaper chappie who was also looking a bit shaken. We turned our discussion to the main steps from our parking area down to our house. This has always been a contentious subject, and the steps had changed position three times since planning began. There's a 3 metres height difference betwix house and parking, so the material content of the steps was something to worry about, nevermind the practicality during those wintry months. So we moved the bloody steps once more, this time to the side of the house facing the small cul-de-sac road. Only about 1.2m elevation difference, and less of a horror when icy.

Done and dusted decision, and we're happier chappies for it.

One day in the nearish future, I'll construct two wooden staircases up either side of our mega-wall which can be used during the summer. Convenient and cheap. Might also stop our lads from scaling the 3m wall for kicks... ahh forget it, nothing can stop that.

Back to the parking area...

Just this morning we sent an email to said neighbour. No question that we'll meet his wishes with regards to the retaining wall between our properties. Damn the expense. We don't agree to his proposal to use our driveway to access his parking space, as this goes against the original idea of equal levelled entrances to ease entry/exit, (i.e. it's a bit rich to suggest to rip up yer own driveway and use ours instead). Let us know if you still want to reduce the level of your driveway entrance to match ours.

Email straight back: never that fussed about this secondary parking area anyway. Might be happier to reuse the driveway for garden, and forget the whole thing. Will get back to yer with a decision as soon as poss.

One feels this isn't the end of the subject.

A visit from the Huf Haus blokey

Huf Haus sent us a letter inviting us to meet their construction representative at the site, scheduled for today. So Claudia and I skipped a couple of hours of work and then got there about 20 minutes late. Whoops, sorry. And Bozo the Clown (that's me) forgot the camera, so no pickies until our next visit later this week. Sorry world.

Walking down the road to the house we could see that the earth-moving around our new driveway area had begun in earnest. For all the past discussion, contention and worry, it's now easier to see how it'll be in the flesh... and it'll be just fine. The landscaping chap's digger was clamping and moving whopping big chunks of granite to shore up the hill. One felt a wee bit concerned about the intrepid chap on the ground who was balancing on recently placed stones, and pointing out to the digger driver where the next should go. Erm, just how firmly can that digger clamp a 400kg lump of rock? Well, I surreptitiously checked the brave fellow and concluded that hadn't been flattened in the past, so I guess he probably knew what he was doing. Or perhaps he's new to a job that's the landscaping equivalent of a Lancaster Bomber rear-gunner, i.e. the other landscapers don't bother getting to know him too well... his boots'll be all that's left of him one day.

Yikes! Touch wood, nothing like that'll happen to him or anyone else!


We met Herr Huf Haus representative and he pointed out a few things that he reckoned we hadn't quite got straight during the planning, and with our permission he'd sort 'em out. The washing machine would have to go against a different wall in the laundry room - ok? Erm, ok. It's only planned for one upstairs landing light switch, but it'd be better with two - one at each end of the landing - right? Righteo. The sticky-out wall section in the bathroom against which'll be placed the non-Huf Haus sink unit (cough, spit) was far too high - agree? Oh, absolutely. Don't you think you'll need an electrical wall socket in that corner of your kitchen? Quite so, quite so...

You see, we were very distracted by the bangs and crashes as the super-efficient german workers got on with their job. The noise mainly, but also the attention grabbing of this-or-that completed bit. Thankfully, all of the upstairs steel bannisters had been put in place so standing above the gallery and looking down is now far less of an 'exciting' experience. The internal above-the-door sky-lights were in, and even looked passably clean. Numerous electrical plastic channels were stuffed into or out of the walls, yet more of 'em were snaking their way across the floors. The heating system was mounted on a plinth, but clearly some way from becoming operational. Oh and the whole place was dry; the kind of dryness that looked an impossible dream this time last week, when the whole interior was a soggy disaster area that smelled of wet concrete. Now it's a dry disaster area that smells of cut wood. Yes, there was lots of progress.

We asked the Huf Haus chap if (in his experience) he'd spotted any other weird omissions, but he reckoned apart from the above all was as he'd expect.

Good-oh.

Then nice-neighbour-below-us came to say hello. We'd already arranged with our landscape chap that he could have some of the whopping big stone ice-age relics to shore up the corner of his garden, so he was just pointing out which and where to our Bauleiter (site manager). All's well, so he's a happy bunny. And remember this is the chap who had no motorcar access to his own drive-way last week due to the stream of chuffing great Huf Haus trucks bloking the way. Oh, and the landscaping digger managed to crush his post box this morning (think USA-style box on stick, and not UK-style slot in the door) which I have to say he took very well - it'll be replaced super-snappy of course. So we're very glad to grant him a favour; a thoroughly decent bloke, with great potential for future late-night piss-ups, erm, winetasting. Claudia also offered him a tour of the house, so the neighbourly bonding session continued.

He made nice noises, so I think he liked it.

One last thing: The Dastardly Mr Bob Salmon's house build is in progress this week, so if you haven't visited his Blog (see link to the right) then you should go there right now. Hey, why are you still reading this? Go now! Now! NOW!

The storm has passed

I'm pretty sure 'storm' isn't the right word, but now the external construction's been completed (in four short days) there's that ringing in my ears that you get after a major storm abates (I've sat through a major hurricane in Fiji, so I know what I'm talking about), or perhaps after a particularly loud rock concert ends (I've sat through a particularly loud The Who concert, so I know what I'm talking about).

Anyways, all's quiet on site.

The Huf Haus external construction people have all gone. No trucks blocking up the cul de sac, the crane's gone, just the distant sound of cows bells... and that ringing noise in my ears. The house is complete, locked up, patiently waiting for the next onslaught.

Ok, enough with the esoteric stuff...


The surroundings of the house look like an excerpt from the 2nd Battle of the Somme. Mud? The word 'mud' doesn't do it justice. The parking area's still a hypothetical set of sticks and strings to show what's what, and where what's what goes. The interior of the house is mainly wet concrete floors, ceilings and partitions divided here and there with sections of under-coated white Huf Haus wood. Any surface that isn't wet concrete or wood is called glass... and that's filthy. The heating unit's still plastic-wrapped, and sat on a pallet in the Keller. All the electrical, heating and water channels are devoid of electric wiring, heating- and water-pipes. The two bathrooms are almost indistinguishable from any other concrete hole, 'cos there're no loos, showers, baths, tiles or sinks in 'em. The kitchen... well, we know where it'll be, but the present reality is a long way short from a place where I can cook up a half-decent curry.

In short, we're still a long way short of actually being able to move in. Our cup is half-empty, goddammit. But then I'm a project manager by trade, and they used to pay me a lot of dosh to view solid progress in this way.

(Don't take me too seriously; I'm chuffed to mint balls, really I am...)

On a competitive note: that Dastardly Bob Salmon's house arrives next week, so one'll be reading his blog with great interest, as should you lot. The link's just to the right of yer screen, so no excuses. Bob reckons he may be able to move in by Christmas. Hah! Well, so he might if he's prepared to nest inside a concrete mixer, armed with k-rations and a hurricane lamp. Not only do I come from less hardy stock, but it gets way too bloody cold during a full-on Alpine winter. Nah, Claudia and I'll wait until we have a functioning house before making the big leap. It's hard enough dealing with two wee toddlers without worrying about them chewing on half-finished cabling.

So, that Dastardly Bob Salmon'll very likely win the Move-In-First battle, and good on him. But I'm smugly confident we'll win the Fit-for-Human-Habitation battle hands down. I learned a few things during my 30 odd years masquerading as a Brit, and many are related to the reliability of British tradesmen. One feels it would be inappropriate and ungracious to spell it out, so let me just say that over-zealous punctuality and unduly close attention to detail are not accusations that could be fairly leveled against the British working man.

Ahem.


Next steps on our own Huf Haus project? The landscaping of the parking area should commence next week. Claudia also suspects a squad of highly efficient interior Huf Haus people will arrive on Monday to commence with the, erm, with the whatever they do next. We'll see.

Other than that, what a week.

Pickies to follow later this evening.

Day 4 build - Finito Benito

Yes, Huf Haus were true to their words: the dark grey tiles had arrived from Germany by lunch time today. In fact, the poor sod who had driven the red tiles down had returned straight to Hartenfels, grabbed a three winks, then driven back down to Switzerland. We're talking about 1,500km round trip. He looked a bit shaky, but smug. Looks like the bar he runs in his truck cab didn't open last night.

I have a new hero.


The chaps had laid out loads of tiles hither and thither on the roof prior to starting the final race to get 'em firmly nailed on before sunset. As ever, the indifference to the yawning chasms left and right of these bods when hopping about the roof left me well impressed... and a tad dizzy.

And then? Well, after the tiles are on, these blokes are done and dusted. Off they jolly well go back to Germany. And then the interior Huf Haus blokes arrive, probably next Monday. Well, that's my assumption, because these people work to their own efficient timetable, and the loikes o' me can only bugger it up.


And the meeting with the Gemeinde bloke? Well, it went very well indeed. The minimum elevation of the drive way is actually dictated by the whopping big water pipe wot irrigates the whole village, and yer wouldn't want to get too close to it, or it'll freeze solid in winter. Ahhh... and we city types prefer our water in liquid form, so I suppose we have a vested interest. After an hour or so in deep discussion (in Swiss German) I gathered that an accord had been reached. Lots of nods, grins and hand-shakes.

So that's probably all right then.

(continues below...)


Post-script
We were right to be optimistic regarding completion by sunset. By close of business Thursday evening, the tiles were on and all construction completed. The Huf Haus worker bees then loaded all their equipment onto their trucks, locked the house up, hid the keys under the metaphorical door mat, and orf they jolly well went back to Deutschland for a well earned rest. One hopes.

Four days, from start to finish.

We all know a Huf Haus is built in only a few days, 'cos that's their reputation, right? But all I can say is that you've really got to be there to see the transformation taking place. It's an amazing experience. I'm shaking my head with wonder as I rattle this keyboard in front of me.

Amazing.

Day 4 build - Good morning world

Weather gods are still being nice. Fluffy white clouds with blue sky peeping through greeted us (again) this morning. The sun is shining through the window as I type this, and making it a bit hard to read the screen. Not entirely sure when the exterior of the house will be completed and then the house formally sealed from the elements, but if the weather holds up just a few days then I'm pretty it'll be in the bag. We can't expect the snows to be held up indefinitely, not at this altitude.

And the external work around the house?

What with all the excitement over the last few days, it's been easy to forget that there are other elements to building this house than just the construction of the Huf Haus itself. Readers of earlier posts will recall that there's a bit of contention over part of our land that's been 'conquered' to allow our neighbour access to his parking space. No real progress has occurred since that post other than Herr Arkitekt (he of the bow-tie) producing schematics of the land levels that will be necessary to (a) give us access to our carport across our land and (b) still allow our neighbour access to his parking space across our land.

Our land.

In parallel with this, I've had a sneaking suspicion that the local Gemeinde has been keeping an eye on the situation, and perhaps tweaking the planning permission on this area, to ensure that there will be a happy access solution for the neighbour.

Thin white line marks the conquered land
It's (as ever) hard to put in words, but our neighbours parking space and the conquered bit of our land is already half a metre above the remnants of our land allocated for our drive way, i.e. +0.5m. Whoever was behind this did it by building up the conquered land by half a metre, i.e. building it up until it reaches the flat level of our neighbour's land. What we would ideally want to do is to reduce the overall level of our drive way by about a metre (-1.0m) which means that our neighbour's parking space would be +1.5m above our drive way. And remember, he has no possibility whatsoever to access that parking space other than to use part of our drive way. Well, I've never seen a car fitted with crampons, so, in the interests of keeping the peace, we softened and kept level the first half of our driveway. However, this still means that the neighbour's parking space would be +0.5m above that part of our drive way; ergo, he'd have to cut a 0.5m slot into his land. Or buy that helicopter he's always wanted.

Well, the schematics were emailed to the neighbour a couple of weeks ago, but things have gone a bit quiet. O-oh, I smell trouble.

Now consider this: it's our land, our project, our money. Subject to confirmation by a lawyer, it seems highly likely that we have the legal right to build our drive way at any level we wish, within reason. Our parking and drive way will now tower a not inconsiderable 3.0m above the ground level of our house, so that this 'softening' by +1.0m has had an aesthetic and practical impact. And also a cost impact: consider the material difference between a 2m high wall versus a 3m wall needed to prevent our drive way from falling down on our soddin' house. Quite. Furthermore, the Gemeinde chap has recently asked (as is his right, but it's still a bit 'extra') for the usual Swiss sticks to go up to mark the location and size of our proposed car port; these 'sticks' are ubiquitous in Switzerland, and are put up to show all concerned the outline of any new building or significant construction or addition to, thereof... but not a bloody car port.

Sigh.

Well, later today we meet the neighbour and Gemeinde blokey at the site to discuss, agree and resolve. I have a feeling I may have plenty of cause to bite deeply into my tongue. Tis is wee village, and it wouldn't be much fun it the locals sent us to the Swiss equivalent of Coventry over this soddin' drive way business. Oo-err.

Day 3 build - Getting there

Another lunch-time trip to the site, and another giant leap of progress...

We woke up this morning to fluffy white clouds and the odd bit of blue sky, so it looks like the weather gods have decided to be nice to us again (touch wood). Very kind of them, as it's now borderline winter. We hoped for this, as last night the snow line came down another 100m or so, i.e. the white stuff now starts at about 900 metres. Our house foolishly remained at 726m so the snow-line's fast gaining on us. Gulp! The temperature has noticeably dipped, and in fact was just under 3 degrees C at the site.

View to the south

As I hoped, the upper floor is now complete, and the roof beams are in place. In fact, they were just putting the finishing touches to the inner guts and insulation of the roof when we arrived. A few more taps of the hammer here and there, a site clear up of a few bits and pieces of equipment, and then the roof tiles can go on....

Zzzzzzzrrrrrrrrppppppp!

(For the younger readers amongst us, that's the sound a record player needle makes as it gouges a deep scratch right across yer shiny new LP record)

As I passed the big truck bearing the roof tiles, I noticed they were bright red. Or to put it more precisely, the roof tiles upon the truck were not anthracite. Or to spell it out even more, they weren't the dark grey roof tiles wot we'd successfully negotiated for months with the local Gemeinde for permission to have. Yep, there'd been a wee hiccup in the colour department. Disaster! Oh no! Much wailing and gnashing of teeth! Boo hoo hoo hoo! Oh why oh why oh why oh! Sob, sniff.

Stop stop stop all this, nothing can be allowed to spoil the day... within a hour or so the wondrous Huf Haus people had straightened it all out to the satisfaction of all concerned. No big deal, really. The dark grey tiles will arrive tomorrow lunch-time, so all's well that ends well.

A big thank you to the Huf Haus people.

But isn't there a major lesson to be learned in all this? Well, it's not that hiccups such as these can happen, not when yer consider just how many bits and pieces make up a whopping big house. No, the lesson here isn't whether Huf Haus can stop the inevitable like some real estate version of King Canute. Going by the horror stories I've heard from colleagues and friends, they're head and shoulders above every other bugger out there when it comes to minimising hiccups. Nope, it's how a company behaves after a hiccup that's the Big Lesson here, and Huf Haus passed with flying colours. Make that flying colours and a fly-past. There was no finger pointing. No "but don't you think the red tiles would be nice anyway?". No "But this will delay the whole project by weeks!" No "But but but...". No, there was none of that. They just quietly and professionally put the train back onto the track at minimal inconvenience and delay to the passengers.

Think about that.

I'll say it again: a big thank you to the wonderful Huf Haus for sorting it out so quickly.

Brave blokes

Onwards...

For the last couple of days Claudia and I had been loathe to ask the construction people for a look inside the house; best not to put 'em in the embarrassing position to either say "No, are you crazy!" or give us a grudging consent while looking over their shoulders in case a passing insurance rep rumbles us. However, today we thought the house looked intact enough for a look around without something or other falling down and killing us: "Can we have a butchers?", we asked. "Course yer can!", they answered.

It's hard to describe how we felt, but I'll give it a go.

The interior of the house was utterly familiar. Er, wot? Yes we had surprises here and there with regards to just how much light and space there will be (loads loads loads) or how the addition or subtraction of this or that wall or window has added to or subtracted from whatever. But various visits to show houses (especially the near analogue at Hartenfels), plus what must have been a dozen or more hours staring at our own ground plans, plus numerous oh so numerous conversations; all of this had helped form a very strong visual image of what would come to pass. Yes, we pretty much knew how it would be; clearly, because we literally recognised our house. I'll say that again, we literally recognised our new home.

But blow me, it was a wonderful amazing experience actually standing in there and looking around. Rather like seeing a world famous movie or pop star standing right in front of yer; utterly familiar, but a lot more real and vivid an experience than watching them on the telly. Right?

What was not familiar were the views out of the windows. Now we'd spent a lot of time and energy finding and securing a plot of land with a half decent view...

What am I saying "a lot of time and energy"? Anyone who's read this Blog from the beginning knows full well that the bloody land literally fell out of the sky onto our laps and with planning permission for a Huf Haus and on only our second weekend of looking. Ok, I'll concede that.

Room with a View

Ahem, people less lucky than wot we were spend a hell of a lot of time and energy finding and securing a plot of land with a half decent view. So it stands to reason that Claudia were itching to see how the view would pan out from inside the house; we'd seen it enough from outside. Well, the vista from inside is just great. The downstairs windows give us an amazing 120 degree view of the rolling moraine hilltops that are a local souvenier left by the glaciers that passed through these parts during the last ice-age - or a reminder of what's to come when the next ice-age arrives prematurely as a result of global warming. Anyways, the view's looking just great. And from upstairs the views from the two vista-facing bedrooms are just wonderful... really really amazing. But one of those bedrooms has a slightly better look-see than t'other, so guess which one's got Mama and Papa's first dibs on it. Heh heh heh.

Day 2 build - Cats & dogs II

...Well, to be honest the rains had subsided by the time Claudia and I got up to the building site. Ground was a bit soggy and sticky, so my office shoes are a horror. Shall have to hide them under the desk for the rest of the day; and bash away on this Blog.

View to the west

So... the concrete 'roof' of the ground floor is in place, as is most of the upper floor's structure, including the main inverted Vs to mark the general shape of the roof. Just missing the roof beams themselves. As ever, the windows are already installed in the upper floor and (where they open) are fully functioning. They've even installed a temporary stairs, which was nice of them.

Watching the workmen drilling holes, bolting bolts and nailing nails, I could see that the upper structure is a far more complicated beast than the ground floor. Just about everything's pre-cut at a slopey angle to take into account the slopey roof. So installing even one lickle piece up there seems to be a matter of adjust adjust adjust until everything lines up, followed by yet another round of adjustments. Still impressive, but not the massive seven league boots sort of progress of yesterday which was literally a drag 'n' drop 'n' bolt-it-together process.

View to the south

Yes, the roof is still missing, but what do yer want after only a day and a half of construction. Even the largest villageful of Amish would have trouble raising a barn so quickly. Not sure what'll be the status by the end of day, but upper structure plus roof beams complete looks very feasible. Imagine tomorrow's more a day of roof tiling. To be quite honest, today's rains were messy, and very possibly inconvenient, but snow would be a show-stopper. And the snow-line looked to be down to about 1,000 metres... and the house is at 726m. Oo-err.

View to the north

And how did we feel? Well, yesterday was exciting because we saw a lot of tangible progress. However, it's hard to empathise with a building consisting of a few walls and open to fresh air above. Today we saw the general shape and form of our new house, and how it's going to fit into the surroundings. And that was truly a moment to cherish. Reality arrived softly, and I can now almost smell our new life together in that house. That's what this is all about; a safe, beautiful nest to bring up our two wee boys.

Mindblowing stuff.

Day 2 build - Raining cats and dogs

Woke up this morning to torrential rain.

Claudia and I will be popping back up to the site at lunch time, but one fears for today's progress. We've been so damn lucky with the weather throughout the project so far, that we've started to take clear blue skies for granted. It's simply been the most beautiful Autumn I've ever known, which begins to make up for the grotty August we had to put up with. Still, one imagines there's enough water falling down today to faze a fish. Hope those construction workers have been allocated scuba-diving equipment.

On the bright side, we can assume those super-duper Huf Haus people made some more hay whilst the sun shone yesterday afternoon. Not sure how much more structure they could have added by sunset, but going on what they accomplished by 1pm (when those photos were taken) I'm tempted to expect a hell of a lot.

Shall report back later.

Day 1 build - It's started

So, we finally got there. The day arrived when the wonderous Huf Haus people were scheduled to arrive and start the construction of our house. What with one thing or another it simply hasn't been feasible to take any time off work this week. But Claudia and I arranged to meet up at the site this lunch time.

An amazing tranformation greeted us...

View to the west

...as the ground floor was just being finalised. They were bolting the last ground floor wall unit to the other bits. For all the famed Huf Haus reputation for precision, we noted that a large muscle-bound German worker was busily twatting the top of the wall unit with a whopping great rubber mallet. Dunno what he was trying to accomplish, but after a few dozen thwacks, his colleague inserted a couple of bolts and then we were done. Brave lad, those blokes, 'cos they were comfortably stood on the top of the wall units with nowt more than bugger all to catch them if they fell.

View to the south

Two window units remained on the truck, and we tried to figure out where they were destined... but all became clear when I moved to t'other side for a south-facing photo. The crane swung one of the Keller windows over, and (after some fitting) then t'other. So I guess everything below upper floor height was pretty much in place. If you look very carefully, you'll see even the window glass came pre-installed. And the whopping big sliding glass door we ordered for the lounge area was fully functioning. Must have been 'cos the German body-builder opened it up to move some stuff about.

View to the north

We introduced ourselves to a couple of blokes that didn't seem to be doing anything. "Aha!", thinks I, "so there is such a thing as a German layabout." But when we talked to them, it turned out they were the drivers of the first two Huf Haus trucks. That's right, the whole ground floor (and two Keller windows) came on the back of just two trucks. Amazing. Even more amazing, these lads had spent the weekend living in a nearby Swiss layby so they would be present and correct on-site at 7am Monday morning, as stated on Page 44, Sub-section 6, Paragraph 2 of the Huf Haus Code of Honour manual. However, I was tipped off that there had been some sort of hiccup with the crane (it sank about a metre into the soft ground!) which had set 'em back two hours.

Two hours! Them Huf Haus people must have been contemplating handing out white feathers and pistols.

I asked one of the blokeys whether they'd at least found a half decent bar near their truck stop. "The bar in mein truck ist always open!", quoth he with a laugh. Man after me own heart.

Anticipation...

Received a call from Herr Arkitekt (he of the bow-tie) to clarify just when in Week 47 the house arrives, and it'll be Monday 20th November. Hang on, that's next Monday! Great!

He also warned us that our neighbours might need a bit of soothing, 'cos the Huf Haus truck will literally block car access to the entire cul-de-sac for a week. Yes that's right, our neighbours won't be able to park on their own property for a week. The good news is that this is all legal and above board here In Der Schweiz. The bad news is that disgruntled neighbours can pay yer back in kind in a zillion ways. Ergo, always a bright idea to bang on their doors to grovel for forgiveness up front.

Claudia suggested a bottle of bubbles. I immediately escalated to two bottles. No wait! Make it a case of red wine! Damn the expense! Erm, how many neightbours does this impact? So, we're awaiting a tally of potential disgruntlees before we commit to a bottle count. Might be a small bottle of beer each, if there're too many of 'em.

So, this puts us about a week ahead of The Dastardly Bob Salmon and his Rival Huf Haus Blog (see link on the right of this page). He observed that we're neck and neck, and I think that's true. A week's nowt. Once the house goes up, there's an awful lot of interior work to do by the wonderous Huf Haus people, plus various local suppliers banging together the kitchen and part of the bathroom, plus the landscaping (currently more of a moonscape). Lord Knows who gets to the finishing line first, but, when it comes to house building, no one's the hare. Except the bank.

What may be interesting is to contrast our experiences in a sort of UK versus Switzerland battle of the local suppliers with regards to quality and timeliness.

Hmm, one feels smugly confident of a good result for the Swiss-based Blogger. I root for the UK underdog on most occasions, but I've had a life-time of dealing with British electricians, plumbers and likewise...

10 Easy Tips to help make your Huf Haus Dreams come true!

1. Do visit one of the Huf Haus show homes before you plan anything. These are located at various locations around Europe, including (and especially) the famous and wonderful Hartenfels, in Germany. You'll be spending a lot of money building your Huf Haus, so you might want to get up close and personal with the object of your desires.

2. Do pre-book at least an hour with a Huf Haus show home representative. The Huf Haus representatives are very helpful and very informed, but very very busy. Don't just turn up out of the blue hoping they'll be free, because they won't be.

(continued below)

3. Do buy one of the Huf Haus product catalogues. These are those big fat binders full of marketing materials, pretty photos, standard floor plans, standard prices, and lots and lots of superb information. There are two catalogues: one for the 3-axis/4-axis houses; and the other for the 5-axis/6-axis houses.

4. Do be realistic as to the depth of your pocket. Don't leave the show home with a 5-axis/6-axis product catalogue under your arm if you know deep down you'll never be able to afford it, because it'll only distance you further from your dream. A 3-axis or 4-axis Huf Haus is already as beautiful and spacious any most of us could ever aspire to. But hell, if you can afford it, then why not, eh?

5. Let the lie of the land select the Huf Haus size and shape. Far too many people select the size and shape of their Huf Haus out of the catalogue, and then spend month after month looking for the same shaped piece of land to put under it. Don't let early ideas close down the list of candidate plots before you even begin your search. Within reason, the wonderful flexibility of the Huf Haus system almost guarantees that a dream house of some shape and size can be built on almost any plot.

6. Find the land! Buy the land! Spend as much time as you can looking for that plot of land. Consider the obvious factors, such as the commute, general locale, the view, local services, schools, supermarkets. Don't be afraid to compromise, as the perfect piece of land doesn't exist. But don't over-compromise either, because a small island on the Outer Hebrides is not for all of us. It could take a year or more before you find the land, but don't give up. And when you find it? Well don't sit on the decision to secure that piece of land just because you don't have a 100% guarantee of planning permission or bank financing. The seller will simply succumb to the temptation of selling it to someone else who's less risk averse than you are. If you've done your homework, you'll already know if planning permission's available 'in principle', or if your finances generally fit into the green zone from the bank's point of view. Possession is power. Hah hah hah hah hah!

7. Select the architect with great care. Preferably one that's built a Huf Haus before. You'll need an architect who's communicative, can act as a project manager during the construction, and above all, one that you feel comfortable with. As ever, a few references from an existing Huf Haus owner or two will help greatly. You can take the professionalism and diligence of the Huf Haus people for granted (a few language hiccups aside) so your architect will become a very important person to you during the planning and construction phase.

8. Do prepare the overall project budget. The cost of the land's a known because you've bought it. Right? The architect can give you guidance as to how much you should budget for the digging and any other non-Huf activities. So that just leaves the cost for the Huf Haus and options list, which is down to your own aspirations and (believe me) self discipline. Once you get over the shock of seeing the first budget total, you should revisit everything again and again and again. Remember the size of the budget is usually down to your own needs and aspirations, and not simply due to the greed of your suppliers. Well not always.

9. Keep the list of suppliers to a minimum. What with the people for digging, the good Huf Haus folks themselves, the landscapers, the kitchen people, the heating engineers, electricians for the lights, and quite possibly flooring and bathroom people; pretty soon it starts getting busy in there. And your official list of suppliers starts getting quite long. Well, in this case the more the unmerrier, because the scheduling of all those suppliers can easily start to conflict, and remember that any slippage by one supplier will knock on to the next. One advantage of working with the Huf Haus people is that you're dealing with a reputable company that's done all this before, and, give or take a week or two, shouldn't hit you with any surprises. So there's a lot to be said to giving as much of the work as possible to Huf, even if this or that work or unit could be done a little cheaper by a local supplier.

...and finally...

10. Do live your Huf Haus dream; don't just dream it! Read this last one a few more times; it's the most important tip of them all.


All comments and emails regarding these '10 Easy Tips to help make your Huf Haus Dreams come true!', whether complimentary or critical, are very welcome. I'll continue to fine-hone these tips, as they're intended to help us all to realise our own Huf Haus dreams.

One week delay

Just heard from Herr Arkitekt (he of the bow-tie) that the delivery of our house will be delayed by a week, so we can expect it the week after next, i.e. week 47. He was very surprised we'd not been informed about this by Huf Haus. Very surprised.

Hmm.

The jury's still out whether this one week delay was something agreed ages ago by Herr Arkitekt and those nice people at Huf Haus, or whether this is indeed a last minute delay due to scheduling problems at the factory. Furthermore, one wonders whether the 'informing' was something that Huf Haus should have done, or something that Herr Arkitekt was supposed to have done. Oh, what the hell. I'm pretty sure it's not worth the energy to find out.

I guess most building projects are subject to slippages of a month or three, so an extra week won't kill us. We'll just have to keep the champagne on ice just that little bit longer.

A little more progress

A little more progress to report. About two thirds of the great big heap of earth and stones left over from the original excavations has now been placed into the gaps around the Keller walls. Obviously the water management system had been completed, and the concrete had cured enough, so back in it went.

Claudia and I could finally stand safely on the roof of our Keller and get some sort of realistic feeling for how the view from our Huf Haus will be. Previous attempts had been foiled by (a) the whopping big slag heap smack in the middle of our view and (b) mild attacks of vertigo, as the holes around the Keller walls really were quite deep.

(continued below...)

And the view? None too shabby at all. And in fact it can only get better as the left over dirt pile's still a bit in the way towards the right of the view. Oh, and the roof of the Keller is still a little lower than what will be the true ground floor level of the interior of our house. By the time heating pipes and wooden parquet floor's been put down we should be a bit higher. The jury's still out on just how much higher it'll be. Probably there in black and white on some plan or other, so I'll try and find time to look it up and report back.

We were also quite impressed at the size and quantity of whopping big rocks that they dug out of our land. As stated previously, some rather impressive glaciers wandered through this area during the last ice-age, and said rocks and earth were dumped during the thawing. Some of the rocks have already been promised to nice-neighbour-in-small-house to help shore up the corner of his garden, but we'll put the rest of 'em to good use shoring up ours.

Our house arrives next week, so until then we're a bit in limbo. Shall probably think of some other aspect of Huf Haus design to wax lyrical about to keep my hand in this Blogging business.

Choosing our Huf Haus

As predicted, little further progress to report.

The Keller is likely drier than last week, which is a rather intangible form of progress methinks. Last weekend, Claudia and I spotted that a lot of the rain water management had been installed into the gaps around the Keller walls. Wot's rainwater management? (ahem) It's a network of what looks like plastic drainpipes with holes drilled in 'em, laid underground, and all pointing towards the lowest corner of the land. One supposes the idea is that all sogginess as a result of rain or melting snow (and/or ice-caps), will be channelled in the general direction of downhill, from whence it becomes somebody else's problem, i.e. until it ends up in some German's house during the next large scale flooding caused by excess run-off water from Switzerland.

So, somewhat drier concrete and some plastic drainpipes.

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So, while we await the excitement of the arrival of the house (the week after next) I thought I'd describe our experiences with regards to choosing and modifying a Huf Haus design. Now I'm going to assume the gentle reader's reasonably au fait with the general concept of a Huf Haus, and furthermore knows wot au fait means. But bear with me if I spell it all out in a little too much detail. Not everyone's armed with one of the Huf Haus marketing packs.

As told previously, the general size and shape of our Huf Haus was pretty much dictated by (a) the size and shape of our land and (b) the wishes of the previous owners and (c) the Baubewilligung - planning permission - that came with the land.

(a), (b) and (c) above had pretty much committed us to what's known as a 3.09.30 before we even had a chance to peep at the view.

A recap: the 3.**.** means it's a three-axis house. The *.09.** means it's standard design number 09 in the three-axis book, which roughly translates to 12.81 metres long, with a bay window sticking out of the side, u-bend stairs, and a gallery above the dining area to give yer vertigo. And the *.**.30 just means that each axis is 3 metres wide. Ergo, the general ground floor area (not counting the bay window) is 9m times 12.81m which equals about 115 square metres.

Still with me?

Well, the Baubewilligung we had didn't allow for the bay window, because it would have stuck out about 1.5m, and therefore the living space would have 'encroached' too close to the boundary, a no no in Swiss planning circles. So delete the bay window (and the bay window-shaped extension to the Keller underneath it) ending up with a oblong house. This was easy-peasy with the magical Huf Haus system, and in fact we even got a credit from those lovely people at Hartenfels.

Next, the Baubewilligung also stated that the standard 9m width of the house would be 10cm too wide for the land (really, Swiss planning rules go to this level of detail) so not only would the bay window have to go, but the whole sodding house would have to go on a diet. So, our central 3m axis is actually 2.9m. Again, a few click-clicks on the computer by the good folk at Hartenfels, and those 10cms were shaved off. No credit this time, but then again no extra cost. Try that with someone else's system house.

And that's the basic outline that we inherited: 8.9m by 12.81m.

Ok, so we bought the land, took over the Baubewilligung, and then spent days, weeks, months poring over the internal ground plans of the previous project which differed significantly from the standard 3.09.30 (mentally minus bay window, and a tad slimmer). The upstairs bathroom had been moved to the back of the house, diagonally opposite from the kitchen. The kitchen itself had walls and windows which didn't seem to make sense to us (the whole kitchen story to follow in a subsequent post). Some of the internal walls had been glassed, and other external walls unglassed.

And then there was the Options List, which I've decided to capitalise because it's one of those words like Baubewilligung, Bastelraum and Keller, that's come to rule our life during this project. The previous owners had an Options List that ran to about 60 pages, and somewhere in the region of an additional 50% to the cost for the standard 3.09.30 Huf Haus with Keller. Now that was a shocker. Especially as the Options List's in perfect German, and even worse, technical German so yer german-speaking wife can't help much in the translations 'cos she doesn't know what the words mean in any language. The full Options List Story'll have to wait for another post...

So, we had someone else's Baubewilligung, someone else's floor plans, and someone else's Options List. We'll concede the Baubewilligung, as the size and layout of the house was pretty much dictated by the lay of the land, and I'm sure we'd have ended up with the same if we'd started from scratch. But the floor plans and Options List? We had to some some way of making this bloody house our own, didn't we?

Clearly, the floor plans were to be the starting point:

We returned the upstairs bathroom to the front of the house, on the premise that the nice view from the back of the house would be better appreciated from two bedrooms, not just the one. It also which simplified the water, drainage, and gurgling noise situation. Kitchen, downstairs loo, and upstairs bathroom would now all be at the same side of the house, geddit?

We unglassed those interior walls (privacy) and reglassed those exterior walls (sod privacy). We also removed the glass partition and door that comes standard between the open living area and the entrance area. This was on the good advice of the nice lady at Huf Haus Switzerland, who's now living in her third Huf Haus. Seems that those glass doors remain permanently open anyway ("every does it"). Oh, and the wonderful Huf Haus people gave us a credit for them. Heh heh heh.

There were a few other details, but by the time we'd finished, the floor plans were truly our own, oh yes. So much our own that they looked like, erm... they looked just like the standard floor plans for the 3.09.30. Yes, it's true. Each decision we made seemed to naturally undo all the tinkering that had previously been done, and the design was pretty much back to where it had started.

How could that be?

Well, those standardised floor plans in the marketing packs aren't just throw away ideas. They're in fact beautifully thought out designs, both aesthetically pleasing and practical. They've been envisaged and executed by clever Huf Haus architects, and then fully debugged by 10,000 somewhat detail-oriented German Huf Haus owners. In short, there's far more to those standardised designs than meets the eye at first glance. In fact, Claudia and I truly believe that's what's at the heart of the Huf Haus success story: it's not just a beautiful design concept, with plenty of space and light; it's the deep thought that's gone in to making these houses practical. The flexibility is still there for those that want it, or for the planning authorities that insist on it. But if I were you, I'd leave the messing about with the internal layout of yer Huf Haus to those wot know: them clever Huf Haus people. Redesign's still an option, but make sure it's done by someone who really knows what's what with a Huf Haus, and not as the result of some fickle brainwave by you and yer partner that came to yer at 2am in the morning.

A couple of observations, meant kindly:

First, the en suite bathroom situation. Now the upstairs of yer classic three-axis and four-axis Huf Haus is dominated by the sloping roof on either side, right? And you usually get a central landing upstairs with a suicide gallery on one side, and a rather elegant u-bend staircase on t'other. And then that leaves one equal-sized room per corner, 'cos that's where the light comes in. And one of those rooms is the family bathroom. All very nice, but this doesn't leave much option for the en suite bathroom for the master bedroom. Well, it could do, but then yer master bedroom would be the smallest bedroom, 'cos there's nowhere logical to slip in the en suite other than by losing the gallery, which would be a real shame.

Ergo, this sloping roof business is not en suite bathroom friendly. We've done without the en suite, but mitigated this by adding the optional shower to the downstair loo ("everyone does it") so we've at least got a second bathroom somewhere in the house.

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Secondly, the kitchen situation: yer three-axis and four-axis Huf Haus is incredibly spacious and 'open' on the ground floor, but a combination of the few remaining internal walls (essential for holding the bloody house up) and the regular posts and beams (ditto) leave you with a narrower space for your kitchen than you'd like. Think about it, a three-axis house gives you a 3 metre wide kitchen (2.78m actually, but let's not get picky) and once you've shoved in those standard 60cm deep base units either side, you're left with 1.58m of kitchen floor (whoops, I got picky after all). Not a lot considering the outrageous spaciousness of the rest of yer gaffe.

Ergo, the Huf Haus concept naturally pushes you towards a long but narrow space for your kitchen.

Most Huf Haus owners spend a looooooong time struggling with this, and you will too. Forget (at this stage) which kitchen company you'll choose, which units, and whether or not you can live a single minute without a combination oven/steamer; the first priority is getting that space that you're going to need as a blank canvas. There are many options I've seen and heard about, including moving the front door of the house to one side and making it a two axis kitchen, moving walls about, or indeed moving the whole damn kitchen, and various other concepts. Prepare yerself, 'cos this is going to take a lot of your time and attention, and very likely many rethinks.

What did we do? Well, during our trip to Hartenfels we walked into the grey three-axis show house there, which is basically a mirror-reversed 3.09.30. Very similar to our house, although it does have that bay window. It's impossible for me to explain adequately, but the bottom line is that the beam that runs across the house in the kitchen area's been moved a step back towards the front door so that that it opens up the option for a whopping big cooking island in front of the usual kitchen area. Not sure who that vagrant is, but the image further up shows it.

So we copied it; nuff said.