Talia sent me one message at night: “Ilan, he isn't signing. And I don't understand how that's possible.”
I didn't need to read much to understand that the problem wasn't the seller. The problem was the document Talia had signed three months earlier.
Talia wanted a small apartment in Volos. Not for a golden visa, not for a huge investment - a nice beach apartment, something she would use in the summer and perhaps rent out the rest of the year. She found a property, loved it, and spoke with the broker. Everything flowed at a good pace. “Give 10% and we'll lock the deal,” he told her. “Otherwise someone else will take it.”
Talia paid 10,000 euros on an apartment priced at 100,000. She signed a document the broker brought, a document called a “Pre-Agreement.” In Hebrew, a zikaron devarim - a memorandum of understanding. The parties agree on a price, on a date for the final contract, and on the amount paid as a deposit. It sounded orderly. It sounded binding.
It wasn't binding. And that is the difference Talia didn't know existed.
In Greece there are two kinds of preliminary agreement, and not by chance. There is the ordinary “Pre-Agreement” - a kind of statement of intent. I want to buy, you want to sell, this is the price, and we'll meet for the final contract by such-and-such a date. It is signed between the parties, without a notary, and usually without a large sum. And there is the “Pre-Agreement Notarial” - exactly the same agreement, only drawn up before a notary and costing extra money. That difference, which sounds technical, is in fact the entire difference between an agreement with teeth and an agreement that is a nice request.
When the document is signed before a notary, whoever backs out pays compensation - usually double the amount given. An apartment at 100,000, a notarial deposit of 10,000, and compensation for withdrawal of 20,000. And that's not all: the buyer can, in certain cases, complete the transaction himself, in a one-sided procedure, even without the seller's consent. That is a transaction with real legal weight.
Talia's document was not like that. It was an understanding agreement. When the seller received a higher offer from another buyer three weeks later, he simply decided he wasn't continuing. No serious explanation. No intention to compensate.
I explained the situation to Talia, and watched her face change. “So what can I do?”
The legal step exists, one can go to court. But I explained two things she needed to know before deciding. The first: legal proceedings in Greece, in this case, can last years. The second, and no less important: even if she wins, it's not certain she will actually collect. If the seller has nowhere to pay from, the court doesn't produce money for him. Sometimes you get the judgment, but the money itself is spread over years, in installments that turn out to be a joke compared with what was invested in the legal battle.
Talia asked me a direct question: “So what would you do?”
I answered honestly. I would take back the 10,000, if the seller offers it, and not enter a five-year war over principle. Sometimes it's not fair. But it's right economically. And it's a sentence I hate saying to clients, but I say it because it is truer than is pleasant to hear.
The seller, facing the possibility of a lawsuit and real pressure, finally offered to return the money with a small addition. Not 20,000. Not the compensation that would have been due to her had a notarial agreement existed. But more than zero, and faster than a Greek court would have offered.
I think about this a lot, and there is another layer here worth understanding, because even a notary is not always the end of the story. An agreement drawn up before a notary creates a binding commitment between the two parties, but that does not mean it is registered in the Greek land registry. And only registration is what gives you protection against the world - against a seller who tries to sell the same property twice, against creditors who impose a lien. Without registration, even a notarial agreement remains largely an agreement between two people, not a right that stands against everyone.
My rule is simple, and I repeat it all the time: do not give a deposit/advance before your own lawyer has checked the property, not to the broker, not to the developer, not to anyone. And if you are already giving an advance before the final contract, ask two precise questions: was the agreement signed before a notary? And if so, was it also registered in the land registry? Without both answers together, you don't know how much your protection is actually worth.
Stories are based on real situations, with identifying details changed. Not legal advice.
Translated from the Hebrew original. עברית