I’m sorry to bring you bad news but the song lyrics “The best things in life are free” aren’t true. Much more accurate is the title of the song, made famous by the Beatles — “Money (That’s what I want)”.
In fact, nothing is free. Yes, the trees look amazing at this time of year. The autumnal hue with their spectrum of reds, oranges and golden yellow leaves. But who pays for the appalling leaf blowers, talented tree surgeons and grounds staff who make your local park presentable? Your council tax does.
Seaside air? Yes, it’s lovely and invigorating, but most of you will pay to get there. Or, in my case, I’ll have the second home to enjoy — and maintain at some expense.
The water from the tap outside my beach hut may be “free” but the hut’s ground rent pays for that. And who wants to have a beach hut unless you’re able to quaff a few bottles of fizz of an evening? Along with everything else, the price of a decent bottle of bubbly is on the up too.
Being British, we can all breathe a collective sigh of relief. The NHS is free at the point of use. Behind the scenes of course, it hoovers up a big chunk of our taxes. And with those waiting lists, that’s why I choose to pay for private health insurance. I cut the cost in half by electing not to be able to use every hospital across the UK.
What about the joy of owning a dog? Even that waggy tail costs a fortune. The price of dog food, poo bags, the vet’s bills and insurance all adds up. The hound needs regular grooming and wears a very smart collar from Mungo & Maud.
But I’m not here to moan — well, not entirely. In these pressing times, how can one take better financial choices while still enjoying the best that life has to offer?
Start at home. Have two of everything, they used to say. Much has been written about the rise and rise of the two-dishwasher kitchen. I love this idea. Not because I want to show off. I just hate emptying the dishwasher.
I want two so I can have one for clean and one for dirty. So I never have to unload it, avoiding domestic arguments with the other half. In every relationship one person will stack a dishwasher like a Swedish architect. And the other is like a raccoon on meth. I’m the raccoon in our relationship.
To achieve the dishwasher double, you’re unlikely to pop online and buy the cheapest Beko for £239. Miele is the standard, setting you back around £950. Except no one with a half-decent kitchen wants a white machine. That, along with fluorescent strip lighting and Laura Ashley tiles, went out in the early eighties. So, you’ll either order the one with a matching front panel or stainless steel. Goodbye £1,769, times two.
There is another way. The two-drawer, single unit Fisher & Paykel. A wonderful bit of kit. Two drawers can be put on independent cycles. £1,700 well spent. And remodelling costs avoided too. A double win! You can fill it quickly and put it on before the other half notices.
Travel is another cash redistribution opportunity. I used to “Uber Exec” it everywhere. Why do that when you can use its “business comfort” options that are at least 10 per cent cheaper and usually a decent car (unless an awful MG or Kia slips through the net)? There’s more legroom, and it’s only around 20 per cent pricier than the basic service.
Or better still — shudder — I can use public transport. I may as well save money and time by using the Tube, leaving more free cash for lunch.
However, it’s international travel where my attitudes have really changed. For years, British Airways really was the World’s Favourite Airline and mine too. These days it’s just a no-frills airline with higher ticket prices.
The seats are supremely uncomfortable and, because I’m no longer a gold or silver loyalty card holder, I tend to be seated at the back of the plane, next to the rear gunner. Mountain air isn’t free either, but I need my annual fix. How much? BA want to charge me £798 for two return flights to the Alps — not even at the times I want to travel.
To cut a long story short, on my last trip I booked easyJet at £143, return — at the times I wanted and with reserved seating. That’s for two of us. Leaving £655 to spend in the mountains — mostly on lunch.
Money may be limited but it simply requires the deckchairs to be rearranged on occasion. Spend the same but do more. Even the dog is economising by eating supermarket own-brand. He loves it!
It saves at least £30 a year, going halfway towards that swanky collar. And we bought a set of dog clippers for £15 to save on the £40 groomer sessions. Followers of this column will know that my black American Express Centurion Card costs a fortune, annually. But use those points, take advantage of the extras and freebies and your cash will go further.
Having splashed out on various “essentials” over the year, I will get my rental car for the mountain trip on points. The fizz at the beach hut will be funded by “free” credits at Clos19 and Harvey Nicks. But all of this takes work. Instead of simply having more money and hosing it around, finding ways to use what you have more efficiently is something I can buy into.
I’m not about to give up the fancy lunches, champagne-fuelled parties or far-flung holidays. I don’t need to if I am a little wiser about the journey and the choices taken along the way. The best things in life can be affordable when you take good financial decisions. Thankfully, I’m a columnist, not a lyricist.
James Max is a broadcaster on TV and radio and a property expert. The views expressed are personal. X, Instagram & Threads @thejamesmax
Comments are closed, but trackbacks and pingbacks are open.