What happens to Byron Bay locals who can't afford the soaring property prices?

“There are no options,” says Pip Hood about coming to terms with holding a losing hand in the game of Byron Bay’s rapidly escalating property boom.

After receiving notice just before Christmas that her rented home of 10 years is to be sold, the 31-year-old has given up hope of finding anything in the wider region.

“I’d be looking at $700 a week or more for anything like this,” Ms Hood says, as she looks around her well-maintained, but basic, three-bedroom house for which she pays $450 a week to live in with her three children, aged 9, 5 and 2.

Figures and insights from local agents back up her conclusion. While media attention has focused on wildly escalating property prices — with Domain data showing median house prices in Byron Bay rose 37 per cent in 2020 alone — the plight of renters is less in the public eye.

Ms Hood lives in the seemingly more affordable north Byron Shire town of Ocean Shores — the median asking rent is $590 a week compared with Byron Bay town’s $750 a week — but the story on-the-ground is grimmer.

Local real estate agent Peter Browning, of LJ Hooker Brunswick Heads, told Domain it’s not uncommon for applicants to offer hundreds of dollars above the quoted weekly rental, which means data based on the “asking price” does not always reflect reality.

Mr Browning also noted that he could receive hundreds of enquiries for a single rental vacancy.

As a single parent, Ms Hood has reluctantly accepted that, with those numbers, her odds are on the low side. “I know I’ll be at the bottom of a prospective tenant list,” she says. “Even though this place is in as good or better condition than when I moved in, and my kids have never done anything like draw on the walls.”

She’s far from alone in her predicament. “I’m watching others scramble to stay in the area – setting up in vans and the like – but I wouldn’t feel secure, especially as it’s only going to get worse,” she says. “We simply want to feel settled in a home.”

What is unsettling is the impact that moving away will have on Ms Hood’s day-to-day support networks. Her plans to undertake a course and related work experience are in disarray as they rely on help from family and friends. “I have a really solid web of support here,” she says. “My intention of raising my kids within a strong community has been taken out of my hands.”

Ms Hood is looking around Coffs Harbour. She is surprised to hear that the reported median rental price in the last months of 2020 was $330 a week, as she hasn’t seen anything remotely that affordable.

She is also worried that, even if she does find something, the rising price trend (with rents up 22 per cent over the past five years) will catch up with her again. Her other option is Brisbane.

Ms Hood is calm as she shares her story at her kitchen table after making sure her chooks are secure from the coming rain, and her youngest is set up with a snack.

“I’ve moved through the initial panic and grief, though I’m sure there’s more to come,” she says. She stresses that, unlike others she’s heard about, her landlords are proceeding by the book and communicating well after deciding to sell to fund their retirement.

“I really like my landlords; they live in the same street and have tried to keep rent increases manageable up until now,” she says.

In this, Ms Hood is better off than those who have shared stories off the record or in local Facebook groups of being evicted without due notice or process or mistreated by landlords even once a new rental has been found.

It’s likely most of those desperate people won’t feel much sympathy for real estate agents but, according to Tim McKibbin, CEO of the Real Estate Institute of NSW, real estate staff are also experiencing downsides of this property boom. “It’s very stressful for everyone,” he says. “If someone is constantly missing out on finding a home, the emotions spill over, and that can be directed towards agents.”

Mr Browning agrees. “People need to not blame the agent. We’re the scapegoat and punching bag for everyone, but it’s the entire world that has shifted,” he says. “We’re being sworn at, and someone is physically abused on an hourly basis.”

The shifting world that Mr Browning refers to is a COVID-inspired, work-from-home-enabled flight out of capital cities coming hot on the heels of a celebrity-influx and an Airbnb bonanza in areas that were traditional havens for renters.

Ms Hood is trying hard to find any silver lining that might come from her enforced move, as well as hold onto hope that she might find a rental close enough to allow her kids to see their treasured cousins on occasional weekend trips back “home”.