When An and I launched Base in 2004, we had a fairly ambitious business plan. Five branches in five years, covering London, building a recognisable agency brand and doing all the things that ambitious young business owners are apparently supposed to want to do. We had a clear idea of what success looked like, and it involved becoming considerably bigger than we were when we started.
It wasn't a particularly unusual ambition. The property industry has always had something of an obsession with growth, and back then the most visible measure of a successful estate agency was often the number of offices it operated. More branches meant more properties, more clients, more revenue and, presumably, more success. We'd worked in agency, understood the model and thought we knew where we wanted to take things.
What we hadn't really considered was whether building that particular business would actually make us happy.
As Base began to establish itself, we discovered that the things we enjoyed most weren't necessarily the things that would help us build a sprawling London agency network. We loved getting to know our landlords, understanding the properties we managed and developing the sort of relationships where clients trusted us to make sensible decisions without needing to be involved in every detail. We enjoyed knowing our tenants, working with contractors we trusted and feeling genuinely connected to the homes we looked after.
The more we thought about opening additional branches and creating layers of management, the more we realised we risked losing precisely the things that made us want to run our own business in the first place. So, relatively early on, we changed our plans. We didn't abandon the idea of growing Base, but we decided that growth would have to happen on terms that protected what we valued about the business.
More than twenty years later, I'm very glad we made that decision. It's also taught me something that I think applies just as much to owning rental property as it does to running an agency: sometimes you need to stop pursuing the next milestone long enough to consider whether it's still taking you somewhere you actually want to go.
The difference between having a plan and knowing what you want
I was reminded of those early years during a recent episode of The Viking Chats with Nicola and Paul Broomham. Both have enjoyed successful careers in the property industry, with Paul holding senior leadership positions across several major agency businesses and Nicola building a highly regarded recruitment business before selling it and moving into a larger organisation.
Their journey over the past few years has been anything but straightforward. They've relocated their family, navigated demanding professional commitments and, in Nicola's case, dealt with a serious illness that required her to step away from work for an extended period. Paul also spoke about leaving a senior position and only appreciating, once he'd stopped, just how much he needed some time away from the pressures of his previous role.
What I found particularly interesting was how those experiences had changed their thinking about work and success. Having both spent years building careers and developing their expertise, they were now in a position to create something together that reflected their own priorities. Their new business, 2.0 Group, was initially conceived as something more lifestyle-led, allowing them to concentrate on the work they enjoyed while retaining greater control over their time.
Naturally, the reality of running a successful business has already started testing that ambition. They're only a few months in and finding themselves having conversations about whether to scale up, bring in additional resources or deliberately limit how much work they take on. It's a familiar dilemma for anyone who's built something people want, because opportunities have a habit of arriving whether or not they fit the life you originally intended to create.
But what struck me wasn't the dilemma itself. It was that they were consciously discussing what they wanted the business to do for them, rather than simply assuming that getting bigger was the inevitable next step. That's a distinction I think we could all benefit from making more often, particularly when it comes to long-term investments.
Your property was always supposed to help you achieve something
Most landlords don't own property purely for the pleasure of owning bricks and mortar. There's usually a bigger objective behind the decision, whether that's generating additional income, building financial security, funding retirement or creating something that can eventually benefit children and grandchildren.
For some, property is a deliberate investment strategy. They've bought with a clear understanding of rental returns, financing, likely expenditure and the longer-term prospects for capital growth. They may own several properties, actively review their performance and make decisions based primarily on commercial considerations.
For others, becoming a landlord wasn't really part of the original plan at all. They moved in with a partner, relocated for work, inherited somewhere or decided not to sell a property when their circumstances changed. Renting it out made sense at the time, and what began as a practical solution gradually became an investment that they continued to hold.
Whichever route brought somebody into the market, the property generally exists to support something beyond itself. The challenge is that the relationship between the investment and its original purpose can become less obvious as the years pass.
A landlord might spend fifteen years collecting rent, maintaining the property, dealing with occasional changes of tenant and gradually reducing their mortgage. The arrangement becomes familiar, the property continues to perform reasonably well and there may be little immediate reason to reconsider it. Meanwhile, their children grow up, their career changes, their financial position improves or their plans for retirement begin to take shape.
At some point, the circumstances that made owning the property attractive may have changed considerably, but the decision to continue owning it is rarely revisited with the same care that went into buying it.
We're seeing this increasingly at Base as our business and our clients mature. Some of the landlords we've worked with for many years are now approaching the point where their investment has achieved what they originally hoped it would. They're considering selling not because something has gone wrong, but because they're ready to use the money for the things they spent all those years building towards.
That might mean helping children or grandchildren onto the property ladder, retiring earlier than expected, buying a dream home or making a move they've been talking about for years. Sometimes it's about travel, sometimes it's about simplifying their finances, and sometimes it's simply about having more freedom to enjoy the next stage of life.
I think it's important to recognise those decisions as a positive outcome. If somebody has owned a rental property for twenty years and can now use the proceeds to achieve something meaningful, the investment has potentially done exactly what it was supposed to do. Continuing to own it indefinitely shouldn't automatically be considered the more successful option.
When an investment still feels like home
One of the things that makes this particularly interesting in London is how many rental properties were once their owners' homes. A significant proportion of the properties we manage at Base fall into that category, and it creates a very different relationship between landlord and property.
An intentional investor might assess a flat through its rental yield, likely maintenance expenditure, financing costs and prospects for future growth. Those are entirely reasonable considerations, and they're important for anybody making a significant financial decision. But a landlord who once lived in the property often brings another set of priorities into the equation.
They remember choosing the kitchen, decorating the bedrooms, entertaining friends or raising children there. They know the little quirks of the building and may still have strong relationships with the neighbours. The property represents a particular chapter of their life, and although they've moved on, that emotional connection doesn't necessarily disappear when somebody else moves in.
We've found that these landlords are often less interested in squeezing every possible pound of rent from the property than they are in knowing it's being properly cared for. Of course, they want a sensible return, but they're frequently willing to prioritise finding good tenants who will treat the home respectfully and stay for the longer term.
That has a significant influence on what they expect from their managing agent. They're not simply looking for somebody to collect the rent and arrange a contractor when something breaks. They want reassurance that the person looking after their former home understands why it matters to them and will approach decisions with a similar degree of care.
It's one of the reasons we sometimes describe Base as a landlord's first choice, second agent. A landlord might initially select an agency because of its name, market presence, valuation or fees, only to discover that the service feels rather less personal once the tenancy is underway. When they begin looking again, the questions they ask are often very different. They want to know who will actually manage the property, whether the agent understands their priorities and how much care will be taken when something goes wrong.
Those are exactly the relationships we've built Base around. Our team jokes that I can reel off the full postcode of most of the properties we manage, along with when they were last painted, while An can recount the family history of landlords we've worked with over the years. It's a slightly ridiculous amount of information to carry around in our heads, but it reflects how personally we approach the job.
It's also why we decided against becoming the five-branch business we'd originally imagined. We wanted to retain that familiarity, because it's one of the things that makes the work satisfying and, we believe, the service better. The nearly 1,500 positive reviews and around 30 industry awards we've accumulated over the years are wonderful recognition, but the longstanding relationships behind them are what really matter to us.
That personal connection also means we're well placed to recognise when a landlord's priorities have changed. Somebody who was once primarily concerned about protecting their former family home might, fifteen years later, be thinking much more seriously about retirement, supporting their children or reducing the responsibilities they carry. The property hasn't necessarily changed, but what they need from it may have changed enormously.
A good investment doesn't have to last forever
There's something about property that encourages people to think in terms of permanence. We talk about getting onto the property ladder, building a portfolio and holding assets for the long term. Selling can sometimes feel like abandoning a strategy, particularly when somebody has spent years working hard to acquire and maintain a property.
Yet very few other investments are treated as though the decision to hold them should remain unquestioned indefinitely. Circumstances change, objectives evolve and the value of having money tied up in one particular asset needs to be considered alongside the alternatives.
For a landlord approaching retirement, the dependable income from a well-managed property might be exactly what they need. For somebody else, the capital tied up in that same property might be more useful elsewhere. Another landlord may be perfectly happy with the investment itself but no longer want the day-to-day responsibilities of managing tenants, contractors and compliance.
There isn't a universal answer, and I'd be wary of anybody suggesting there is. The financial implications of selling, refinancing or retaining a property can be substantial, and decisions should be made with appropriate professional advice. But before getting into those calculations, I think it's worth asking a more fundamental question: what do you actually want the property to achieve for you now?
That word now matters. Not what you wanted when you bought it, or what you hoped it would achieve ten years ago, but what you need from it at this stage of your life.
Sometimes the answer will confirm that keeping the property is absolutely the right decision. Sometimes it might prompt a change in how it's managed, particularly for landlords who have spent years handling everything themselves and would now prefer somebody else to take responsibility. And sometimes it might lead to the realisation that the investment has run its course.
None of those outcomes should be regarded as inherently better than the others. What matters is making a conscious decision rather than allowing familiarity, habit or emotional attachment to make it for you.
The fisherman who already had everything he wanted
There's an old story I've always liked about a fisherman relaxing on a beach after catching enough fish to provide for his family. A visiting businessman sees him and starts explaining how much more he could achieve if he worked harder, caught more fish and invested the proceeds in a bigger boat.
The businessman describes how the fisherman could eventually employ other people, build a fleet, establish a substantial fishing business and, after many years of effort, sell it for a fortune. At that point, he explains, the fisherman could retire somewhere beautiful and spend his days relaxing on the beach, fishing whenever he felt like it.
The fisherman points out that he's already doing exactly that.
It's a simple story, and obviously real life is more complicated. Financial security matters, and there's nothing wrong with wanting to build something ambitious. But I've always appreciated the reminder that we can become so focused on pursuing the next milestone that we forget to consider what we're hoping to find when we get there.
Looking back at our original plans for Base, I can see how easily we might have fallen into that trap. Five branches in five years sounded impressive, and I'm sure we'd have been delighted to tell people about our growing network of offices. But I don't know that running a larger, more complicated organisation would have given An and me the same satisfaction we get from the business we've actually built.
We enjoy being involved. We enjoy knowing our clients and properties, having conversations that go beyond the immediate tenancy and feeling that our work makes a difference. As the business has matured, we've become increasingly comfortable with the idea that remaining relatively small isn't a failure of ambition. It's a deliberate choice about what sort of business we want to spend our lives running.
We still want to grow, but we want to do so sustainably, without losing the personal relationships and detailed knowledge that make Base what it is. That's our version of finding the right balance between ambition and enjoyment.
And I think there's a parallel here for landlords. Building a larger portfolio or increasing the value of an investment can be worthwhile objectives, but only if they genuinely support the life you're trying to create. If the end goal is financial freedom, more time with family or the ability to enjoy retirement, it's worth recognising when you've reached a point where those things are already possible.
The value of time changes as we get older
When you're younger and establishing yourself, money understandably occupies a lot of your thinking. You need to pay the bills, create some stability and build a foundation for the future. Taking on additional work, making sacrifices and pursuing growth can all feel like sensible decisions when you're trying to get yourself into a stronger financial position.
But I think the balance changes as you get older, particularly once you're fortunate enough not to spend every month worrying about how the bills will be paid. You start to recognise that time has a value that isn't always reflected in a spreadsheet, and that having more money doesn't necessarily compensate for having less freedom to enjoy it.
Children grow up, parents get older, friendships need maintaining and the list of things you've always intended to do doesn't get any shorter. There's a point at which continuing to accumulate wealth can become less important than making good use of what you've already accumulated.
For me, quality of life increasingly comes first, with time following very closely behind. Money is important, and I'm certainly not suggesting people should stop caring about it, but there are always opportunities to earn more. The years themselves are a rather more finite resource.
That's part of what resonated with me during my conversation with Nicola and Paul. Their experiences had prompted them to reconsider how they wanted to spend their working lives, and they were trying to create a business that supported those priorities. They weren't rejecting ambition or financial success; they were simply recognising that neither should be pursued without considering the effect on everything else that matters.
Landlords face similar decisions, even if they don't always think of them in those terms. A property might continue generating an attractive income, but perhaps managing it has become a source of stress. The capital might be growing, but perhaps the owner has reached a stage where having access to that money would allow them to do something they've wanted for years.
It's entirely possible for an investment to remain financially sound while no longer being the best fit for the person who owns it. Recognising that distinction is an important part of managing wealth sensibly.
Good property management should understand the person, not just the property
As a managing agent, it's easy to become absorbed in the practical details of looking after a property. Rent needs collecting, maintenance needs organising, compliance obligations need meeting and tenancies need managing. Those responsibilities are essential, and doing them properly is a significant part of what landlords pay us for.
But I think a genuinely good relationship between landlord and agent should extend beyond the mechanics of the tenancy. We should understand why somebody owns the property, what matters to them and how their circumstances might be changing over time.
A landlord who's owned a former family home for fifteen years may have very different priorities from an investor who bought a flat specifically to generate income. Somebody approaching retirement may want to discuss the future of their investment in a way they wouldn't have considered ten years earlier. And a landlord who has spent years managing a property themselves may eventually decide that their time is better spent elsewhere.
Those conversations aren't necessarily about persuading somebody to sell, buy or change their management arrangements. They're about understanding what the client actually needs and helping them make informed decisions, involving accountants, financial advisers, solicitors or other specialists where appropriate.
Sometimes that will mean continuing to manage the property for another twenty years. Sometimes it will mean helping a landlord move from self-management to a fully managed service so they can enjoy the income without the responsibilities. And sometimes it will mean supporting somebody through the final stage of their property investment journey as they prepare to sell.
If a longstanding client decides to sell because their investment has helped them reach retirement, support their family or achieve something they've been working towards for years, I don't regard that as a disappointing outcome simply because Base loses a managed property. We've helped them look after an important asset, and they're now in a position to enjoy what it has made possible. That's something worth celebrating.
Making sure the destination is still somewhere you want to go
More than twenty years after starting Base, An and I still have ambitions for the business. We want to continue improving what we do, welcoming new clients and looking after more wonderful London homes. But we also have a much clearer understanding of what makes the work rewarding and what we're unwilling to sacrifice simply for the sake of becoming bigger.
I suspect that understanding comes partly from experience and partly from getting older. When you've spent a couple of decades building something, you begin to appreciate that success isn't necessarily about reaching the next impressive milestone. Sometimes it's about recognising the value of what you've already created and having the confidence to protect it.
The same is true of property investment. A landlord might have spent years building equity, generating income and creating financial security, but the real value of those achievements lies in what they make possible beyond the property itself. Whether that's a comfortable retirement, helping family, reducing working hours or simply enjoying greater peace of mind will depend entirely on the individual.
That's why I think it's healthy to revisit your objectives from time to time, particularly after major changes in your personal or financial circumstances. Not because there's necessarily anything wrong with your investment, but because the life you want it to support may have evolved considerably since you first became a landlord.
The question isn't always whether your property could earn more money, whether you should buy another one or whether the market might improve if you hold on for a few more years. Those can all be relevant considerations, but they shouldn't be allowed to obscure the bigger picture.
Sometimes the most useful thing you can do is take a little time away from the routine of ownership, look at what you've achieved and ask whether your property is still helping you live the life you actually want. Because the whole point of building financial security, surely, is eventually having the freedom to enjoy it.
