The weighted average capital city median price is well up for houses and other dwellings.
2 min
Australian house prices are rising at the highest quarterly rate in 10 years, according to the latest Real Estate Market Facts report from the Real Estate Institute of Australia (REIA).
According to REIA President, Adrian Kelly, the weighted average capital city median price increased by 6.8% for houses and by 2.7% for other dwellings.
“Over the March quarter, the weighted average median house price for the eight capital cities rose to $873,911 with all cities increasing except Canberra. At $1,309,195, Sydney’s median house price continues to be the highest amongst the capital cities, 49.8% higher than the national average. At $500,000, Perth has the lowest median house price across Australian capital cities, 42.8% lower than the national average.
“Over the 12 months to the March quarter, the weighted average capital city median house price increased by 11.1%.
“The weighted average median price for other dwellings for the eight capital cities increased to $621,313, a quarterly increase of 2.7%,” said Mr Kelly.
Mr Kelly also added that median prices for other dwellings increased in Sydney, Melbourne, Perth, Hobart and Darwin, remained steady in Brisbane and Canberra but decreased in Adelaide.
The median rent for 3-bedroom houses increased in all capital cities over the March quarter to a median of $452.50 per week.
“Over the past 12 months, the median rent increased in all capital cities except Melbourne where it remained steady. Darwin had the highest annual growth at 17.3% and now has the second highest rent at $538.50 a week with Canberra the highest at $570 per week.
According to the report, the national capital city vacancy rate is at 3.3% primarily up due to Melbourne’s rate of 6.1%.
Mr Kelly concluded the growth coincides with the April 2021 Lending to Households and Business figures released by the Australian Bureau of Statistics which show that the value of new loan commitments for housing rose for the second consecutive month after a brief fall in February which came after eight consecutive months of growth.
What a quarter-million dollars gets you in the western capital.
Alexandre de Betak and his wife are focusing on their most personal project yet.
3 min
Many luxury hotels only build on their gilded reputations with each passing decade. But others are less fortunate. Here are five long-gone grandes dames that fell from grace—and one that persists, but in a significantly diminished form.
A magnet for celebrities, the Garden of Allah was once the scene-making equivalent of today’s Chateau Marmont. Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardner’s affair allegedly started there and Humphrey Bogart lived in one of its bungalows for a time.
Crimean expat Alla Nazimova leased a grand home in Hollywood after World War I, but soon turned it into a hotel, where she prioritised glamorous clientele. Others risked being ejected by guards and a fearsome dog dubbed the Hound of the Baskervilles. Demolished in the 1950s, the site’s now a parking lot.
The Astor family hoped to repeat their success when they opened this sequel to their megahit Waldorf Astoria hotel in 1904. It became an anchor of the nascent Theater District, buzzy (and naughty) enough to inspire Cole Porter to write in “High Society”: “Have you heard that Mimsie Starr…got pinched in the Astor Bar?”
That bar soon gained another reputation. “Gentlemen who preferred the company of other gentlemen would meet in a certain section of the bar,” said travel expert Henry Harteveldt of consulting firm Atmosphere Research. By the 1960s, the hotel had lost its lustre and was demolished; the 54-storey One Astor Plaza skyscraper was built in its place.
In the 1950s, colonial officers around Africa treated Mozambique as an off-duty playground. They flocked, in particular, to the Santa Carolina, a five-star hotel on a gorgeous archipelago off the country’s southern coast.
Run by a Portuguese businessman and his wife, the resort included an airstrip that ferried visitors in and out. Ask locals why the place was eventually reduced to rubble, and some whisper that the couple were cursed—and that’s why no one wanted to take over when the business collapsed in the ’70s. Today, seeing the abandoned, crumbled ruins and murals bleached by the sun, it’s hard to dismiss their superstitions entirely.
The overwater bungalow, a shorthand for barefoot luxury around the world, began in French Polynesia—but not with the locals. Instead, it was a marketing gimmick cooked up by a trio of rascally Americans. They moved to French Polynesia in the late 1950s, and soon tried to capitalise on the newly built international airport and a looming tourism boom.
That proved difficult because their five-room hotel on the island of Raiatea lacked a beach. They devised a fix: building rooms on pontoons above the water. They were an instant phenomenon, spreading around the islands and the world—per fan site OverwaterBungalows.net , there are now more than 9,000 worldwide, from the Maldives to Mexico. That first property, though, is no more.
The Ricker family started out as innkeepers, running a stagecoach stop in Maine in the 1790s. When Hiram Ricker took over the operation, the family expanded into the business by which it would make its fortune: water. Thanks to savvy marketing, by the 1870s, doctors were prescribing Poland Spring mineral water and die-hards were making pilgrimages to the source.
The Rickers opened the Poland Spring House in 1876, and eventually expanded it to include one of the earliest resort-based golf courses in the country, a barber shop, dance studio and music hall. By the turn of the century, it was among the most glamorous resort complexes in New England.
Mismanagement eventually forced its sale in 1962, and both the water operation and hospitality holdings went through several owners and operators. While the water venture retains its prominence, the hotel has weathered less well, becoming a pleasant—but far from luxurious—mid-market resort. Former NYU hospitality professor Bjorn Hanson says attempts at upgrading over the decades have been futile. “I was a consultant to a developer in the 1970s to return the resort to its ‘former glory,’ but it never happened.”
