We found the funniest Lancaster house viewing stories

We've all been there. Just over a term or so into first year, we've all had to bite the bullet and commit to finding a place to live next year. Almost like we're adults or something.

Aside from the obvious issues of "Omfg I'm going to be actually living with these people, where's the next plane to Taiwan", the next problem many of us run across in entering the real estate world is a rather simple one.

The houses we're shown around often hit… bumps in the road. Shagging interrupting, bong sized bumps. Think I'm exaggerating? Have a look at some of the absolute worst/hilarious flat viewing stories of Lancaster student accommodation we were able to dig up.

To avoid pissed off letting agencies, the names of the fearless whistleblowers will be redacted. May we honour their noble and valiant sacrifices.

'The only sign of life was a still smoking bong.'

"It was 11am on a Saturday in the first week back. As such, anybody we spoke to was dead on their feet. The house itself was absolutely silent, the only sign of life was a still smoking bong on the kitchen table covered with an impressive amount of marijuana. The rest of the house was covered in empty bottles and the most empty packets of Wotsits I have ever seen in my life.

"We went upstairs and the only person that would answer his door was clearly still extremely high and swaying. The only useful information we could get from him was that the Wifi in the house had lots of boosters, so if anyone wanted to play Fortnite, the house was great. He then collapsed back into bed and we made a swift exit."

'How could it get worse? Suddenly, two heads popped up from underneath a duvet.'

"I thought looking around campus accommodation in first year was bad. Walking in on unsuspecting third years looking up pityingly from their calculators when you wandered in for a gander at their halls.

"But second year accommodation searching was a whole different kettle of fish – and not least the fact you knew you had another year living with the people who nearly gave you the plague the year before due to their unhygienic kitchen habits. One fine autumn day, my six flatmates and I innocently walked into a house to view it for our next year of study.

"We had already dismissed the house before we even walked through the door. How could it get worse? We pondered. Well, as we entered the first floor room it was unusually dark and dingy. Suddenly, two heads popped up from under a duvet. I’ll leave it your imagination as to what we had just walked in on. We were absolutely mortified, God knows how they felt.

"Imagine living in a place where your landlord doesn’t even warn you that seven complete strangers are about to come traipsing through your humble abode. Something that might need mentioning when you're inviting your boyfriend round for an afternoon of 'domestic bliss'. We put a deposit down on a house that day, but rest assured it wasn’t that one".

'One house had a basement with the words 'Welcome to Hell' in red blood.'

"So last year my housemates and I were doing a bunch of viewings for third year. One of the houses, I think it was kinda near Boweham, seemed perfectly normal, a little small for us maybe.

"But then we see the basement, and there it is. 'Welcome to Hell' written in full red blood.

"We immediately looked at each other, it was clear we were not getting that house. We left the house very soon after, and we are convinced its haunted".

'Got shown around a room where two people, still in bed, had obviously been interrupted'

"We thought it was going to be a nice, boring tour around a nice, boring student house. It started off ok, the kitchen was cleanish, the toilet worked, no dead bodies stuffed into the recycling. It was all looking up.

"And then the tour guide had the bright idea of showing us what the bedrooms looked like. Great idea in theory, although now I wish that she had thought to tell the people in said rooms about her bright idea.

"The room we got shown around contained a very ruffled looking bed where two people, still in said bed, had obviously been interrupted… if their glares were anything to go by.

"Needless to say, we didn't end up buying the flat that turned us into unintentional perverts."

And so begins the cycle again, as the wide eyed freshers of this year stroll unknowingly into dens of debauchery and inequity. All I can do is offer some sage advice from an old second year…

Take a crucifix and a bowie knife to fend off the natives when you have a look at next year accommodation. Failing that, take a course book with you, we're allergic to the very idea of work.