What we've learned about Richmond
Marina Bay is the one people ask about first. The townhomes and condos there went up on filled shipyard ground in the late eighties and nineties, close enough to open water that salt crusts on the window glass and the sliding-door tracks between visits. Anything metal near a balcony needs wiping rather than polishing, and the tracks want a brush before anything wet. It is a different problem from the rest of the city and it recurs on a predictable cycle.
Inland the work is older and smaller. Point Richmond keeps early-century cottages with steep interior stairs and rooms you cannot swing a mop in. Around the Iron Triangle and Atchison Village the houses are wartime construction, compact and plainly built, often with a single bathroom and a kitchen that has been updated in stages. Up toward Richmond Heights and May Valley the lots get bigger, the ground starts to slope, and two-car garages appear. One quote does not cover all of that, so we do not pretend it does.
What we walk into in Richmond
There is no single Richmond house. The oldest pockets date to the 1900s, a large band was thrown up between 1941 and 1945 for shipyard workers at 700 to 1,000 square feet, and tract building carried through the fifties and sixties at a slightly larger scale. Newer construction sits on the shoreline: attached townhomes of three levels with a garage on the ground floor and living space above. Flooring skews to vinyl and laminate in the older housing and to carpet-plus-tile in the townhomes.