A recently published guide, issued by the Ministry of Justice, is intended to thwart the insurgence of squatters upon our private property. Housing Minister, Grant Shapps, has roused us all into stopping “anti-social, undesirable and unfair practice”. Very well said Minister...but do you know that these anti-social undesirables can make lots of money from these unfair practices too?
A client of mine gave me a flyer last week which advertised the following key features to an event:
For a very brief moment, I felt ecstatic (no pun intended) by my client’s gift: I thought I was being invited to a “do”. Unfortunately, the pained expression on my client’s face, plus the fact it was office hours and I was in my suit, made me realise that I was being asked to do something legal. My initial ecstasy immediately dampened. I think, youth of today, that this is called “a downer”.
· The venue for a 3-day rave (my client’s commercial warehouse!)
· The time the rave started and finished (9.00pm on Friday night right through to 5.00am the following Monday!)
· The price for entry to the rave (£10 per raver!)
· The names of five “disc jockeys” (not called this on the flyer, but I am the nostalgic sort... there is plenty of nostalgia to follow!) brought in to keep the raving masses entertained.
Now for the nostalgic section.....
In 1987 I attended my first rave. I call it that very loosely. It was a lawfully arranged “soul weekender” at the Prestatyn site of Pontins (tragically now in Administration!). I went with some school mates, Paul Prokopiou and Dave Scourfield. Prok danced (principally to Alexander O’Neill, Luther Vandross and Barry White) for 72 hours. Dave drank Stella Artois with Crème de Menthe chasers for 72 hours. I tried a cheeky combo of these two activities for 72 hours. Hour 73 was no picnic for any of us! I had my first bout of alcohol poisoning; Prok had very sore groins and calves; Dave, bless him, started on the road to nowhere which he paced with liver pickling conviction for the next 17 years of his life.
The Soul Boys returned to Amersham in a mess and a month later I began my law degree at Manchester University. Reasonably fresh from the Prestatyn soul weekender, I attended the much publicised Hacienda Club during my first week in Manchester. It had not, as it turned out, been publicised quite enough in Amersham! Dave Smith (my new mate) dressed up in a suit and tie (á la Rick Astley) and I naively followed (the) suit. For those of you who remember The Hacienda in 1987, we had clearly made some schoolboy errors when choosing our clobber for the big night. The bouncers should not have allowed us entry, but they obviously felt teased into the possibility of some Rick Astley-style dancing to “Pump up the Volume”. Tragically, the bouncers weren’t disappointed. Dave and I were ejected before midnight.
A month later still, another mate from home came up to visit. I need to preserve his anonymity in this blog. What I can say is that (a) he dressed like a proper raver (from memory he brought Kickers back into fashion in 1987 after a 3 year leave of absence from the fashion industry) (b) he had hair like a proper raver (c) he took mind distorting drugs like a proper raver (d) he danced like a proper raver and, as a consequence of all the above (e) everyone in the Hacienda and Ibiza-wide absolutely loved him.
A few years later at my wedding the same friend was still raving and was still the centre of attention – or certainly just left of centre next to my wonderful wife. Sadly (and the reason for preserving his anonymity here) my friend also caught the attention of 3 constables from the Thames Valley Police Force following an ugly residents’ bar incident at about 3am. The involvement of the Merseyside Constabulary, arising from the same ugly incident, needs to wait for another blog because I feel myself going off course. Long story short: the “boyish high jinx” (as it has been classified by my raving “mad” mate) which created a duel force police investigation into my wedding night was, in hindsight, the result of 80s and 90s rave/drug culture.
Nowadays, simply the thought of spending 3 full days in a drum and base thumping warehouse makes me feel physically sick. If I’m honest, the prospect of 3 days in Prestatyn doesn’t fill me with love either. I’m pretty sure my Hacienda loving mate, now in his forties, would still be “lovin it, lovin it lovin it” (as the youth of today might say – must check with my “in tune” teenage nephew!) but, being firmly on the side of the righteous and the good, here’s a bit of law on this subject to help landowning victims of sweating and squatting revellers – sadly I had to get here in the end!
- For “permanent” squatters, expedited possession proceedings (approximately a 7 day turnaround from application to court order and, where necessary, bailiff eviction) are available specifically to deal with “unknown persons” in occupation of residential or commercial premises. The legal costs (sadly irrecoverable because there are no “named” defendants to enforce an order for costs against) will be in the region of £3,500 all inclusive.
- More appealing, if (like my client) you have found a flyer post-party giving the names of some DJs, you can apply for something called a Norwich Pharmacal Order which will compel a named DJ to identify the names of the actual rave organiser(s).
- Now with named defendants, via the Norwich Pharmacal route, you can bring a claim for damages against the organisers for trespass, criminal damage and, best still, for an account of all profits made by the trespassers, on your land, from their event. With thousands of sweating bodies regularly converging on mass at these venues, at £10 a head minimum, the arithmetic is easy!
If you have recently been a victim of this highly organised crime, please feel free to contact me, Sian Nath or Jackie Revell through our website (www.cwd-law.com)
