You fell in love with the original fireplace. The high ceilings. Those gorgeous sash windows that rattle every time a lorry passes. You could already picture yourself sipping tea in the bay window, surrounded by all that Victorian charm. Then you got the survey back.
If you’ve ever bought (or considered buying) a character property, you’ll know that initial swooning quickly gives way to a very different feeling. Something closer to “what have we got ourselves into?”
I’m not here to put you off. Older homes are genuinely wonderful—full of craftsmanship, quirks, and stories you don’t get with new builds. But there’s a gap between fantasy and reality that catches most people off guard. Here’s what I wish someone had told me before we started.
The Budget You Set Will Be Wrong
Let’s address this one first, as it’s a universal concern.
Every renovation guide tells you to add 10-15% contingency. For character properties, double that figure and you’re getting closer. The problem isn’t poor planning—it’s that older homes hide their secrets well. That damp patch might be a leaky gutter. Or it might be failed pointing, rising damp, and a cracked lintel all conspiring together.
Our “quick cosmetic refresh” turned into replastering three rooms after we discovered the walls had been skimmed over wallpaper. Twice. By different people. Both of them apparently believed this was acceptable.
What nobody mentions is how the costs compound. You open up a floor to fix one creaky board and discover the joists need reinforcing. That leads to moving a radiator. Which means draining the system. Which reveals a corroded pipe. Before you know it, a £200 repair has become a £2,000 project.
The lesson? Get intrusive surveys where you can. Budget for the worst. And accept that some discoveries will only reveal themselves once you’ve started—preferably not on a Friday afternoon when every tradesperson has vanished for the weekend.
Standard Sizes Are a Fantasy
Here’s something that genuinely surprised us: nothing in a Victorian or Edwardian house is standard.
Modern homes are built to predictable dimensions. Internal doors are a set height. Windows come in standard sizes. Kitchens fit neatly into rectangular rooms.
Character properties laugh at such conventions.
Our bedroom door frames were all slightly different heights. The bathroom window was an odd shape that no off-the-shelf blind would fit. And when we finally addressed those draughty original windows, we discovered that every single opening was a unique size—some by only a few millimetres, but enough to rule out standard replacements.
This applies to almost everything. Skirting boards in unusual profiles. Ceiling roses that don’t match modern light fittings. Architraves that no DIY store stocks. You’ll spend a surprising amount of time hunting for things that should be simple to source.
This is where the romance of period features meets the reality of renovation budgets. You have two choices: compromise with ill-fitting modern alternatives, or invest in made-to-measure solutions that actually work with your home’s character.
For the windows, we ended up going down the bespoke route with Wooden Windows Online, who could manufacture frames to our exact measurements. It cost more than generic uPVC, but the alternative was gaps, poor insulation, and windows that looked obviously wrong against the original brickwork. Sometimes the “budget” option costs you more in the long run—through heat loss, aesthetic regret, or having to redo things properly later.
Conservation Rules Can Catch You Out
Planning to replace windows, render over original brick, or add a porch? If your property sits within a conservation area—and many character homes do—you might need permission first.
Lots of buyers don’t realise their home falls under extra restrictions until they’ve already ordered materials. Conservation areas protect the character of historic neighbourhoods, which sounds lovely until you discover your planned aluminium bifolds aren’t going to get approved.
The rules vary by council, but generally, anything visible from the street that changes your home’s appearance may require consent. For windows especially, many conservation officers expect like-for-like replacements: timber for timber, traditional styles maintained. If you’re facing this situation, timber windows designed to match original profiles can satisfy planning requirements while improving thermal performance.
Listed buildings come with even stricter controls. Grade II listing doesn’t just protect the exterior—it can cover internal features too. Original doors, fireplaces, and even floor layouts might require Listed Building Consent before any changes. The process takes time, often months, so factor this into your project timeline from day one.
Worth checking before you fall in love with a particular design. A quick call to your local planning department can save months of frustration.
Old Houses Have Different Thermal Rules
Modern building regulations assume modern construction methods. Cavity walls. Vapour barriers. Insulation is sandwiched into every gap.
Older, solid-walled properties work differently. They were designed to breathe—moisture moves through the structure rather than being trapped. Slap modern, impermeable materials onto a Victorian wall, and you can create damp problems that never existed before.
This catches people out constantly. Someone seals up all the draughts, installs plastic-framed windows, and paints the exterior with non-breathable masonry paint. Within a year, they’re dealing with condensation, mould, and peeling plaster.
The science is straightforward. Solid walls absorb moisture from both inside and outside the property. In a healthy building, this moisture evaporates naturally. Block that evaporation with impermeable materials, and the moisture gets trapped. It has nowhere to go except into your plaster, your timber, your furniture.
The fix isn’t to leave your home cold and draughty. It’s to use appropriate materials. Lime plaster instead of gypsum. Breathable paints. Timber window frames rather than uPVC, which allows the building envelope to manage moisture properly. Secondary glazing can work well too—it improves thermal efficiency without replacing original windows.
Getting this balance right—warmer and more efficient, but still working with your home’s original construction—is probably the biggest technical challenge of renovating older properties. It’s worth reading up on “breathability” before making major decisions about insulation, windows, or exterior finishes.
The Trades Shortage Is Real (Plan Accordingly)
Good tradespeople who understand older buildings are genuinely hard to find. The skills required—lime plastering, traditional joinery, sash window restoration—aren’t taught as widely as they once were.
We waited four months for a plasterer who knew how to work with lime. Another three for a roofer experienced with slate rather than concrete tiles.
The temptation is to use whoever’s available. Resist it. A general builder who’s brilliant with new builds might make expensive mistakes on a Victorian terrace. Wrong materials. Wrong techniques. Problems that only show up months later when the damp starts spreading or the plaster starts cracking.
Start gathering recommendations early. Ask neighbours with similar properties who they’ve used. Local heritage groups and conservation officers often maintain lists of approved contractors. The Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings runs courses and keeps directories of skilled craftspeople. These resources exist—use them.
And be realistic about timelines. That “six-month project” might stretch to eighteen if you’re queuing for specialists alongside everyone else renovating period properties in your area.
Research Before You Commit
One thing I’d do differently? More research before buying.
Period properties vary enormously depending on when and where they were built. A 1900s Edwardian semi in the suburbs has different challenges from a 1840s workers’ cottage. Regional variations matter too—construction methods in northern mill towns differ from those in southern market towns.
Understanding your specific property type helps you anticipate problems. Georgian houses often have issues with their basements. Victorian bay windows frequently need structural attention. 1930s semis commonly suffer from failing cavity wall ties. Knowing what to look for means fewer nasty surprises.
Local archives, historical building surveys, and even old photographs can reveal how your property was originally built and what changes previous owners made. That extension might look period-appropriate, but was it built properly? Those replaced windows—are they actually suitable for the building? The more you know going in, the better your decisions will be.
It’s Still Worth It
I’ve painted a fairly challenging picture, but here’s the thing: we’d do it again.
There’s something about living in a home with genuine history—where the floorboards have a century of footsteps worn into them, where the windows have watched the street change for generations—that new builds simply can’t replicate. The proportions feel different. The quality of materials and craftsmanship, even in modest workers’ housing, often exceeds what mass-market developers offer today.
The key is going in with realistic expectations. Budget generously. Research your specific property type. Understand the quirks of older construction before making decisions. Find tradespeople and suppliers who actually specialise in period homes rather than treating yours like any other project.
Character properties reward patience and respect. Rush the renovation, cut corners, or force modern solutions onto old problems, and you’ll fight the house every step of the way.
Work with what you’ve got, and you’ll end up with something genuinely special. Draughty bay window and all.