When you enter the room that will be your home for the next three years you really hope that it’s going to feel right… or at least okay. I have to be honest and say that I did not have that feeling yesterday.
We should have guessed something was wrong when my mother and I went to pick up the keys from the agency and found that the electronic keys were broken, there were two door keys instead of three and one of those was snapped in half. The caretaker was called, an appointment made for the lock to be changed this
|A fuzzy photo of local wildlife is better than a photo of my flat!|
morning, early, as I had furniture arriving. It was one of those annoying things but not a great problem.
However, perhaps that should have set off the warning signs, after all the previous tenant obviously wasn’t that fastidious and neither, it seems, are the housing agency. We weren’t quite expecting the state that the room would be in… I don’t know if anyone would have expected it. It was filthy, toilet blocked, holes in the lino etc etc etc. After a long day, that wasn’t exactly what one hopes to find.
This morning also saw some setbacks as the caretaker didn’t turn up (turned out that despite the appointment being at 9a.m. she didn’t start until 12:30). After a few complaints, we eventually got the caretaker of one of the other buildings to come and change my lock and wow, was that for the best. This gentleman was wonderfully helpful, had a few things to say about the previous tenant (none of them very nice!), and got someone to come and completely clean my room there and then. Admittedly, it should have been done before we arrived but I couldn’t complain about the service today.
We also moved my stuff in and, although we can’t assemble it as we have to paint over hand prints on the walls, it’s now starting to feel like home. It’s weird how the fact that it’s not clean(er) has made it seem a lot more manageable. Indeed, the longer I’m spending out here, the less scary it’s becoming and the more exciting it seems!