After swapping his house in London, Patrick Collinson found himself staying in a brownstone villa in Illinois's answer to Islington
Home exchange made a holiday in Chicago cheaper and also more memorable. Photograph: Scott Olson/Getty Images
Want a modern, three-bed residence in Edinburgh for a long weekend during the festival? Then wave goodbye to possibly £1,000. Fancy staying 10 days in a vast, $1m-plus, five-bed brownstone villa in Chicago's most happening neighbourhood? You're probably looking at another couple of grand. Yet I got both for free – all I had to do was exchange them for my relatively modest terraced home in south London.
Friends, of course, think you're mad inviting strangers into your home. Your place will be trashed. Once your home is pictured on an exchange site, you'll be targeted for robbery. You'll have your ID stolen and your bank account looted. They'll nick your car.
The night before your first exchange, while you're frantically cleaning the fridge/oven/bathroom, changing sheets and shoving personal stuff in the loft, you do wonder if it's really worth it. Wouldn't it be better just to cough up for a proper hotel in town and relax, knowing everything's OK back home?
The answer's simple. No. First, you can't argue with the money-saving aspect of
home exchange. This year alone I've saved at least £3,000 through swapping. But just as important is the very different holiday experience you enjoy – living like locals rather than ticking off the usual tourist attractions.
The first night in Chicago, I sat out in 30C heat on the wooden back deck, slightly dazed after landing such an extraordinary home in Illinois's answer to Islington. Happily knocking back the wine my American hosts had kindly left out for me, I suffered that slight embarrassment I'm sure many other home exchangers feel. I realised I'd got a better deal than they had. Had I "oversold" my place on the exchange site? What would they be thinking right now? That my place was, well, a bit low-rent in comparison with theirs? It's perhaps a nagging feeling that never quite leaves you when you swap homes.
The Americans had left extensive local information and told me the neighbours would probably call round. Sure enough, the next day Christy was at the porch, my introduction to just how fabulously friendly Americans can be. "Do you want a beer? Do you want a car?" The most delightful Americans don't understand the concept of being without a car.
"Take our Jaguar. And what are you doing this week? Do you want to come out to west Chicago? We'll show you the bits the tourists don't get to see."
Well, it would have been rude not to. So a few days later, the Mag Mile, the Lake Michigan waterfront bike ride and the Art Institute already under my belt, I found myself at Christy Webber Landscapes. The neighbours, I could see, were pretty big in Chicago landscaping. No wonder she could afford to offer me that Jaguar, when the company she owned had 280 other vehicles. I got the tour of her 12-acre eco-industrial plant, then headed out in a red pick-up truck to landscaping projects and urban farms that are replacing burnt-out blocks in the edgy and otherwise derelict inner-west suburbs of the city. Not, perhaps, the usual thing you get up to on holiday, but one of the resounding memories of my trip.
The internet can be a fearful place – full of scams, fraud, rip-offs and viruses. But home exchange proves it can also be about making connections you'd never otherwise achieve. My guess is that home exchange only really works if you reckon that most people are, most of the time, pretty virtuous and civilised – that they'll treat your home in the way you'd treat it yourself. But the net also allows you to check out who's taking your home, and find out more about the property. Once I'd made contact online and expressed interest in swapping, I did my research. Google Maps allows you to pinpoint the exchanger's home, and Street View lets you snoop round the neighbourhood. Maybe it was just in-bred journalistic nosiness, but it comforted me that I could find out surprisingly large amounts of information about the place I was heading to and the people coming to stay in my own home.
I chose
HomeExchange.com because it offered the biggest selection of properties in the city I wanted to visit. It was slightly pricier than the others, but with a discount code I got the membership fee down to just £58 for a year.
After signing up, you find yourself turning into an estate agent-cum-lonely hearts advert writer, as you compose your property write-up. Oversell yourself and find the wrong partner? Undersell and never get anyone interested? Does "seven minutes to Victoria" work for someone in San Francisco the same way it does in London? Should I mention the actually quite frequent plane noise?
Next, you realise your home is full of quirks that you happily live with but that might madden a visitor. The bathroom light cord that only someone taller than 6ft 5in can reach. The broken oven timer. The rust-covered barbecue. That stain on the mattress that doesn't bother you but, ahem, it doesn't look pretty. One of the joys of home exchange, however, is that it forces you to get on with the little DIY jobs you have steadfastly ignored.
Just having an entry on a home exchange site, though, doesn't guarantee that you'll find a match. There were about 100 properties in both Chicago and Edinburgh on the site. In Chicago, I emailed about 20 before I found someone who was interested in swapping and, crucially, was happy with the dates in July I was proposing. Edinburgh was much the same – except that lots of listings had a stern message warning potential swappers not to bother asking about availability during the festival. Once we had agreed swap dates, we made it contractual. It's not a requirement for users of the site, but we felt happier having documents confirming that we were going ahead.
I didn't opt for auto exchange, fancying my 11-year-old car a tad unattractive to swappers, and hey, I live in central – oops, zone 2 – London, anyway. Everything else I (and they) made available – from the Wii to Wi-Fi, from Netflix to Sky. Having the resources (and space) of a house – the washing machine, cooker, garden, books, CDs, DVDs and so on – made holidaying so much more comfortable.
My only regret has been that on my second swap, to Edinburgh, I perhaps spent less time cleaning than I should have done. It was only a long weekend, I thought. But their place was immaculate, mine rather less so. They had a beautiful basket of gifts waiting for me on my arrival; I had scribbled out a note and left a bottle of plonk. Home exchange is a wonderful thing. But always remember to clean the oven ...
What you need to know if you want to swap
If you've come back from a conventional holiday to a big credit card bill, and you're keen to explore house swapping for next year, getting going couldn't be easier. The internet was made for house swapping and there are a host of websites to choose from. Here are a few tips to help you find the exchange you are looking for.
• If you're looking for an overseas exchange, pick the website that offers the largest number of listings in the country you wish to visit, and the fewest number in the UK (assuming you live there). This dramatically improves your chances of finding a swap. For example,
HomeForExchange.com, probably the best value (it charges £37 a year), has more than 2,000 properties listed in the US and 800 in Canada. There are 740 in England.
• The biggest home-swap website is
HomeLink.org.uk. It has thousands of swaps all over the world, but it is also one of the most expensive sites to join – £115 a year. A cheaper option is the Guardian's site (
guardianhomeexchange.co.uk). This costs from £35 a year and is excellent if you want to swap within the UK – there are 1,100 UK homes listed – but not so good if you want to go abroad. For example, in Germany it currently lists only 20 homes.
HomeExchange.com has a large list of properties around the world and costs about £75 a year to join. It is possible to reduce this by 30% by using discount vouchers available on the web. The National Childbirth Trust operates a swap service between members – details at
ncthouseswap.ning.com. Another excellent site is
SabbaticalHomes.com, aimed at academics looking for longer swaps/rentals but open to non-academics too.
• Once you have chosen your site, take plenty of attractive photos of your property and write a good description of it, one that sells the benefits but does not over-promise. Be candid about your home – if a railway line runs past the end of your garden, the general view is that you have to be upfront about it.
• You then need to start contacting potential swappers. You can write a basic letter and send it off to as many swaps as you are prepared to do. It's a scattergun approach, and many people won't reply, but plenty will. Then it's just a case of finding a swap that fits your needs. If you have children, it makes sense to switch with people who are in the same boat – or who have at least had children themselves.
• Experienced home exchangers say that once you have found a likely candidate, it is well worth spending time talking to make sure that both parties know exactly what to expect. Some advise drawing up an informal contract, which sets out who will be arriving when, and who will pay for what – useful if swapping cars, for example. Some swappers ask for references. It is worth doing a few basic checks to establish that your guests are who they say they are. It is a good idea to lock valuables away because, in the unlikely event that anything goes missing, your insurer will not pay out.
• Cleanliness is essential. Your house should be spotless, and you need to leave the place you visit in the same condition you found it. Some swappers hire professional cleaners, arguing that the cost is more than outweighed by their holiday savings.
Source http://www.guardian.co.uk
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