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Housing will never be the same

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Last week I wrote about the pathetic investment options out there for Irish investors.

Despite high ongoing fees (mortgage, maintenance, insurance etc.) and the actual headache of being a landlord, it's easy to see why real estate functioned as the de facto investment portfolio for an entire generation.

Wealth creation was a rinse-and-repeat function where couples put money away until they had enough for the 'next house'. As a result, we have an economy where 70% of household wealth is tied up in real estate.

Driven by the profits it created, Ireland became obsessed with owning real estate.

But real estate as an investment won't be nearly as successful for our generation. (If you are able to get a house, that is)

All you have to do is look at the anecdotal evidence all around us to confirm this.

My parents bought the house they currently live in for 30k (pounds) 35 years ago. The house is now worth roughly 450k.

I typically despise these back-of-the-envelope calculations when It comes to property, given the endless variables and ongoing costs involved, but bear with me.

That's a gross return of 15 times the original value. Now there are upgrades, a change in currency and other adjustments to consider here, so for argument's sake, let's call it 10X.

To achieve the same level of growth over the next 35 years, you would be left paying 4,500,000 euros for what is a pretty modest house.

Sure, we will still see property prices increase over time, but the rate of growth won't be anywhere near as meaningful for one simple reason.

Interest rates.

Artificial Growth

Over the last 30 years, real economic growth has been stagnant, yet Ireland has experienced enviable nominal growth.

How did we manage it?

We created imaginary wealth.

We pushed interest rates lower and lower to stimulate economic growth.

And it worked.

After all, if you make 100k/year you can probably afford a 400k mortgage at 4%. At 2%, with the same 100k/year salary you can now take on 600k in debt.

So, were we getting richer, or was the debt just easier to afford?

Where do we go from here?

We have now squeezed interest rates as low as they can go.

The house price appreciation we have seen was justifiable because the mortgage rates on housing continued to fall in recent decades. This allowed people to take on more debt without severely impacting their ability to repay that debt.

If we go back to my parents, they were paying 14% on their mortgage. Mortgage rates are currently between 2 to 3%.

A relentless drop in interest rates gave way to higher and higher prices for houses, but interest rates are now on the floor.

The juice has been squeezed.

In fact, the trend has started to reverse, with rates expected to rise 1.5% in the first half of 2023

Be mindful that the same credit expansion cannot happen again.

How the next generation thinks about their investment options has to change.

Banks offering 0% returns for the use of your money and a housing ladder you can't get on are not your only two options.

If you need help creating your own investment portfolio, just reach out to me at mike@theislandinvestor or simply scan the QR code above.

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New summer film festival launches at Anam Centre

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New summer film festival launches at Anam Centre


A new summer film festival has been launched at the Anam Cultural Centre in Killarney, featuring a series of works by local filmmaker Charlie O’Brien. The week-long event, titled Anam Echoes, runs from Sunday July 12 to Friday July 17.


The programme brings together documentaries, traditional music, and guest conversations, with a recurring thread of Irish connections to Latin America running through the week.
The festival opens on July 12 and July 13 with a screening of The Green Fields of Cuba, followed by a live concert with Argentine uilleann piper Pamela Schweblin. On July 14, the venue will screen The Trackless Wild, Song of a Wandering Tip, a documentary exploring the legacy of a 19th-century Irish ballad writer in Argentina, followed by a director’s Q&A.
On July 15, doors open at 8:30pm for a short portrait of the late fiddle player Eamon Flynn titled A Trip to Mountcollins, which will be followed by a traditional music session with Tim Browne and Charlie O’Brien. Musicians gain free entry to this session.
On July 16, in collaboration with the Kerry International Film Festival, there will be a screening of The Killarney Echo alongside a panel discussion on film production, costume, and sound with costume supervisor Ciara O’Connor, sound engineer Tony O’Flaherty, and Charlie O’Brien.
The series concludes on July 17 with A Captain Unafraid, a film charting the life of 19th-century sailor and rebel Johnny O’Brien, followed by a final director’s Q&A.

Doors open at 7:30pm each night, and tickets can be booked at charlieobrien.net/anam-echoes-film-series.

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Felicity’s Summer in Killarney — Chapter 3

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Felicity’s Summer in Killarney — Chapter 3




A new weekly series from Killarney Advertiser’s Jess Jukes


Jess Jukes, a member of the advertising department at the Killarney Advertiser, is also a budding writer. Each week, we will bring you her serialized novella following the adventures of Felicity’s summer in Killarney.



Felicity messaged Jack the following morning.

Hi, I hope you’re feeling better. I heard there was a woman with a new ice cream truck up in Tiernaboul. Do you want to go get your Dad’s ice cream truck back?
She made her toast and sat. Jack messaged back before she had finished her tea.

I’ll meet you at Daly’s, we can walk up together.
Felicity set out for the shop not long after. A dreary sky hung above her, a complete contrast to the day before. It wasn’t long before Jack came around the corner. He was no longer in his ice cream uniform, but in casual jeans and a flannel. He parked his bicycle and leant against the wall next to her.
“What’s this about my Da’s truck being up Tiernaboul?”

Felicity pushed off the wall. “I’ll tell you on our way up.” She told him everything. Jack mentioned how his Da had been quiet and sad when he and Auntie Sheila called to tell him about truck being stolen. He had been subdued still when he had picked Jack up and they went to the garda station to report the theft.

The two trailed through each and every estate, looking for the distinctive bright colours of the ice cream truck. They had been walking for a good half hour when they finally found it.

Jack came to a stop. “Well, you were right about the truck … but why did the woman steal it in the first place?”

That was the question. “Come on, let’s go round the corner and call the gardaí before anyone realises they’ve left the keys outside.”

Felicity and Jack backtracked quickly, and Felicity called in an anonymous tip to the garda station. She put on a nasally voice, saying, “I saw an ice cream truck parked in the driveway of my neighbour, and now I know her I do, and she doesn’t own an ice cream truck. She doesn’t have any permit for that, and I don’t want her trawling up and down the street at all hours trying to sell merchandise without a licence.”
She continued her ramble until the poor sergeant on the other end of the phone sighed in resignation. He promised to send somebody up to investigate and Felicity hung up, triumphant.

Jack was almost crying with laugher. “Jeez Felicity, you should audition for the Four Esquires.”

It wasn’t long before she joined in his laughter. When they heard the garda car approaching, Felicity and Jack watched until the garda knocked on the door of the house. Only then they started back towards home, assured that the truck would be recognised.

Celebration
Sure enough, Jack’s Da Trevor had been delighted to get his ice cream truck back. He had been thankful to Auntie Sheila and Felicity for helping Jack when the truck was first stolen, and insisted on going out for a meal to celebrate its swift return.

The group found themselves in The Laurels, food in front of them, laughter and drinks flowing. Auntie Sheila was discussing the upcoming festival over the weekend with Jack’s mother, and Trevor was telling Jack the story of how he first brought his ice cream truck for what must be the millionth time.

Felicity found herself watching on with a content feeling. Not much better than a full stomach and good company.

As she was looking around the bar lazily, the girl paused. On the wall there was a framed Killarney Advertiser clipping. She got up and wandered over to for a better look.

There was an old man sitting at the bar underneath the clipping, a pint in hand. “You see the group that went up Carrauntoohil for charity last month? The lady in the middle, the one in yellow, she’s the daughter of the fella behind the bar.”

Depicted next to the article was in fact a group photograph full of people. ‘Walking Society Supports Charity atop Our Tallest Peak’ was splayed across the paper in bold lettering.

“Hm .. I’ve never seen it, Carrauntoohil.”

The man barked a laugh. “Course you have! You’re looking at the ‘Reeks all the time, aren’t ya lass? Nearly everything over the lake are the Reeks.”

Felicity turned towards him fully. “People go up it often then?”

The old man laughed again. “Nearly every day I’d wager. People go up in the sun and the rain, even when they shouldn’t. You know …” he leaned in closer as if to share a secret, “people die, up on that there mountain, every year. You gotta respect the mountains. They were here before we were, and they’ll be here long after we’re gone.” He coughed, and took a sip of his pint.

They spoke idly about the good food and the live musicians that were setting up. As the first notes of music began to waft on the air, Felicity bid the old man farewell and returned to her party.

Auntie Sheila moved over to free up Felicity’s seat again as she returned. “You met Seamus then?” she giggled, tipsy. “ He’s a dote, no one sweeter, I swear. You know, he’s been a regular in this bar ever since your mother and I were your age. Hasn’t changed a bit.” She hiccupped, and both Sheila and Jack’s mother started giggling.

Felicity ignored the women, now leaning on each other and saying things in funny voices whilst Trevor looked on with a smile on his face.

“Jack?” she asked conspiratorially. He turned to her, humming to show she had his attention. “Do you like mountains?”

Tune in next week to see what happens next

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