No, I didn't go and get myself into a fight - just couldn't think of a subject for today and Elton John popped into my head (now *there's* a scary thought!).
Today was a fun (not sure if that was the right word to use or not. Again, it just jumped into my head) day. Went and had a look at one studio apartment in the morning...and this turned into 3 as the guy had more on his books he thought I might be interested in. The first one was the one that I was most interested in. OR NOT. There was a nice double bed there...that took up all the floor space! To get to the wardrobe you had to climb over the bed. To open the wardrobe, you had to move the bed. Nope, not for me. The next two were fairly similar. One was OK, except the "kitchen" comprised of a handbasin and a camp hob sitting on a wee chest of drawers. No thanks. The next one was marginally better. It's kichen had a bench built around the hand basin that the camp hob sat on...and the window was right up at the ceiling and only about 6 inches high (it did go right along the wall). Again, no thank you. Considering each of these were around the £160-180 per week mark, I don't think so. It was good, though, as it gave me a bit of an idea as to what "studio apartments" really were. After these, I went for a wee walk around Hyde Park. When I sent an email to someone (Chris?) I mentioned that I think that Hyde Park might *just* be a wee bit bigger than Queen's Park in Invergiggle. I spent something like 2 hours walking around it. Bloody feet were killing me, and I have two fat blisters (one on each heel, no less) to show for it. Those shoes weren't made for a lot of walking obviously! It was enjoyable just strolling around, watching all the sick people go for their jogs etc. The fun ended for a bit quite early on in the piece when it fair pissed down and I got soaked right through (what's that, the second or third time that's happened to me in a week!?). At least I had my jacket on to prevent some rain (not much though). After the walk I went back to the hotel to change my tee shirt (as it was a bit smelly), then went and looked at another couple of places. It was good, because one of them I hadn't arranged to look at - there were a group of people standing around and someone asked if they were there to see the flat, they were, so I tagged on. It was fine, but I didn't feel like paying £195pw for a "studio apartment" with a shared bathroom (between 4 apartments). Screw that, Noddy. The next place I was booked in to see. I was adament that I was going to take it (by this stage I was mighty stressed about not having anywhere to live). This was by far the smallest I'd seen - though the bathroom was bigger (almost bigger than the main room). No real kitchen, but they didn't say it did have one. £140pw, exclusive of bills. I said to the guy I was interested (desperation speaking) and we got talking. That's when I found out that there were still hurdles to climb. The landlord wanted a guarantor for any non-British tenants. I thought I could swing that somehow, until the agent said that it wasn't quite what I was thinking. The guarantor had to own property in Britain. Bugger me! S'all good (hopefully) - he told me that they had another property - £170pw, inclusive of all bills except phone down in Victoria (I presume he means the station - quick check of the bible confirms this). I'm going to have a look tomorrow. Apparently the landlord there is a really good guy and has a few Kiwi, Aussies & Saffas in his properties so is more relaxed about things than the other one. Fingers crossed. Actually - I don't care! I'm taking it one way or the other! The agent (& his wife?) told me they'd let me be the first to see it - that way no one could take it before me. Bloody decent of them if you ask me. We shall see.
I went for another walk around town last night. It's rather different by night. For one, it's darker. (I discovered I get lost much more easily in the dark). Went down to Notting Hill (not very exciting by night, but I can now say I've been there) and around somewhere else over in that vicinity. Managed to find my way back OK...eventually. I don't think I'll leave home without my bible. Ever.
Oh, I know what else I was going to say. Last night (yeah, my birthday) I gave mum a call (*mutters about technophobic parents*) and then went out for dinner. Found a nice wee Indian place not too far from the hotel - purely by chance. I didn't want Indian, but the smells coming from it were just soooo overpowering - they drew me in there (I felt like one of the old cartoon characters - y'know the ones I mean, where the smell would waft by them and they'd be picked up and dragged along by it. I know what I mean, that's all that matters). They waiter guy was so funny. He wanted to know where I was from as he'd never heard such a funny accent. I just laughed at him and (tongue in cheek) said to him that I'd never spoken to an Indian with a non-Indian accent before. He found that amusing (small things, small minds and all). Anyhow, I managed to score myself a free beer. I just happened to say it was my birthday and I was celebrating (not really an accurate word to use, but I used it anyway) all alone in a new city (population much bigger than the whole of NZ). He obviously felt sorry for me and gave it to me. Hey, if I can use the sympathy vote to my advantage, why not!
Today was a fun (not sure if that was the right word to use or not. Again, it just jumped into my head) day. Went and had a look at one studio apartment in the morning...and this turned into 3 as the guy had more on his books he thought I might be interested in. The first one was the one that I was most interested in. OR NOT. There was a nice double bed there...that took up all the floor space! To get to the wardrobe you had to climb over the bed. To open the wardrobe, you had to move the bed. Nope, not for me. The next two were fairly similar. One was OK, except the "kitchen" comprised of a handbasin and a camp hob sitting on a wee chest of drawers. No thanks. The next one was marginally better. It's kichen had a bench built around the hand basin that the camp hob sat on...and the window was right up at the ceiling and only about 6 inches high (it did go right along the wall). Again, no thank you. Considering each of these were around the £160-180 per week mark, I don't think so. It was good, though, as it gave me a bit of an idea as to what "studio apartments" really were. After these, I went for a wee walk around Hyde Park. When I sent an email to someone (Chris?) I mentioned that I think that Hyde Park might *just* be a wee bit bigger than Queen's Park in Invergiggle. I spent something like 2 hours walking around it. Bloody feet were killing me, and I have two fat blisters (one on each heel, no less) to show for it. Those shoes weren't made for a lot of walking obviously! It was enjoyable just strolling around, watching all the sick people go for their jogs etc. The fun ended for a bit quite early on in the piece when it fair pissed down and I got soaked right through (what's that, the second or third time that's happened to me in a week!?). At least I had my jacket on to prevent some rain (not much though). After the walk I went back to the hotel to change my tee shirt (as it was a bit smelly), then went and looked at another couple of places. It was good, because one of them I hadn't arranged to look at - there were a group of people standing around and someone asked if they were there to see the flat, they were, so I tagged on. It was fine, but I didn't feel like paying £195pw for a "studio apartment" with a shared bathroom (between 4 apartments). Screw that, Noddy. The next place I was booked in to see. I was adament that I was going to take it (by this stage I was mighty stressed about not having anywhere to live). This was by far the smallest I'd seen - though the bathroom was bigger (almost bigger than the main room). No real kitchen, but they didn't say it did have one. £140pw, exclusive of bills. I said to the guy I was interested (desperation speaking) and we got talking. That's when I found out that there were still hurdles to climb. The landlord wanted a guarantor for any non-British tenants. I thought I could swing that somehow, until the agent said that it wasn't quite what I was thinking. The guarantor had to own property in Britain. Bugger me! S'all good (hopefully) - he told me that they had another property - £170pw, inclusive of all bills except phone down in Victoria (I presume he means the station - quick check of the bible confirms this). I'm going to have a look tomorrow. Apparently the landlord there is a really good guy and has a few Kiwi, Aussies & Saffas in his properties so is more relaxed about things than the other one. Fingers crossed. Actually - I don't care! I'm taking it one way or the other! The agent (& his wife?) told me they'd let me be the first to see it - that way no one could take it before me. Bloody decent of them if you ask me. We shall see.
I went for another walk around town last night. It's rather different by night. For one, it's darker. (I discovered I get lost much more easily in the dark). Went down to Notting Hill (not very exciting by night, but I can now say I've been there) and around somewhere else over in that vicinity. Managed to find my way back OK...eventually. I don't think I'll leave home without my bible. Ever.
Oh, I know what else I was going to say. Last night (yeah, my birthday) I gave mum a call (*mutters about technophobic parents*) and then went out for dinner. Found a nice wee Indian place not too far from the hotel - purely by chance. I didn't want Indian, but the smells coming from it were just soooo overpowering - they drew me in there (I felt like one of the old cartoon characters - y'know the ones I mean, where the smell would waft by them and they'd be picked up and dragged along by it. I know what I mean, that's all that matters). They waiter guy was so funny. He wanted to know where I was from as he'd never heard such a funny accent. I just laughed at him and (tongue in cheek) said to him that I'd never spoken to an Indian with a non-Indian accent before. He found that amusing (small things, small minds and all). Anyhow, I managed to score myself a free beer. I just happened to say it was my birthday and I was celebrating (not really an accurate word to use, but I used it anyway) all alone in a new city (population much bigger than the whole of NZ). He obviously felt sorry for me and gave it to me. Hey, if I can use the sympathy vote to my advantage, why not!
Seeyabye
1 comment:
Well....sounds like your getting things all worked out....good luck with the interviews little brother.....hope ya find a job that you enjoy doin!!!
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