Yesterday C and I moved into a house on Catherine St, just around the corner from my sister.
This has a standard terrace layout, with a single living area ("reception room" in the UK) and a kitchen downstairs, two bedrooms and a bathroom on the first floor, and a third bedroom (my study) inside the roof/attic space. It's narrow - maybe 12 foot wide - and much smaller than our place in Glebe (73 sqm versus 120 sqm, and that's not counting the attic storage in the Glebe house).
The place is in reasonable condition, however, and the owner had good taste in furniture. She was also an academic who had a lot of books, and there are bookshelves all over the place. This is excellent, as I have maybe three to four hundred books arriving shortly with our shipment from Australia, and C has quite a few too. But all those empty shelves aren't helping me control my book-buying urges!
The owner seems to have left in a hurry, however, leaving a fair bit of stuff that wouldn't normally come with a furnished house -- we will ask the managing real esate agents about getting rid of some of that. (We also don't want two single beds permanently set up, so we will explore the possibility of dismantling one of those.)
We've unpacked and started stocking the fridge and buying household goods, and it's already starting to feel like home.