Skip to main content

Home Sweet Home

Three Little Deadlines made me decide that a home was not at all an essential part of moving to Glasgow. The first thing to cross my path would do. A room in a house I'd never seen with a guy I'd never met in a suburb of Glasgow I'd never heard of crossed my path so I moved in. Not bad: the suburb is not one of Glasgow's infamous areas but is actually pretty, the connection to work is straightforward (my commute has already shrunk by 50%), the house-mate is indeed an 'agreeable 29 year old male professional' as promised. He cleans, he's orderly, he's not noisy, he's friendly, he's social, he works for a children's charity - he's the ideal housemate. 

If only I hadn't outgrown the very concept of housemate. (Ok, and if only I could always understand what he says).

Therefore, exit deadlines enter house hunt. The response rate to my responses to ads suggests Glaswegians offer flats without actually wanting to let them. I nevertheless succeed in making three appointments. At the first the agent does not bring the keys, at the second the living room is so dark on an otherwise bright and sunny day (Glasgow has been kind to me) that I decide I could not survive a Glaswegian winter there, the third has me waiting on the doorstep for 40 minutes.

Not in vain though. Wooden floors, bright living room with big bay window, high decorated ceilings, humongous kitchen (with dishwasher!), bathroom with real shower as opposed to the electrical drizzle that the British are so fond of, 15 minutes WALKING from work - my home for the next two years. 

The landlord (well, land-young-man) spent months rebuilding it. It shows, if one overlooks the mess scattered all over the rooms, the food scattered all over the kitchen and the pee splattered all over the toilet. The land-young-man looks in pain at the current tenant's treatment of his poor house. We are on the same wavelength. 









Comments

Unknown said…
BELLISSIMO!! ti si viene a trovare in MASSA!
No mention of a guest room??
Laura Menenti said…
Nope, no mention of a guest room because there is no guest room. Il salotto dovra' far finta di essere una stanza degli ospiti - ma per certi ospiti fara' finta di essere la stanza della padrona di casa.....

Popular posts from this blog

Glasgow. De tiener die je wilt versieren.

Sauchiehall street op zaterdagnacht om 3:00 is een 21 ste eeuwse versie van een schilderij van Breughel. Een krioelende massa laat tieners en vroeg twintigers die hoe langer je kijkt hoe meer spektakel biedt. De clubs waar de straat van barst zijn net gesloten en hebben hun inhoud over straat uitgespuugd. Links volgt iemand het voorbeeld, maar dan met de inhoud van zijn maag. Rechts staat een stelletje uitgebreid een voorspel te bedrijven. Waar je ook kijkt zijn meisjes in strakke, glitterende, glimmende, kleurrijke, en vooral korte, jurkjes. Schotse meisjes, dus de jurkjes zijn rijkelijk voorzien van randjes vet waar het jurkje niet op bedacht was. Hun nepwimpers zijn te zwaar geworden voor hun oogleden en hangen dus halfstok. In hun handen hebben de meisjes hun schoenen – het gebruikelijke voortstrompelen op metershoge hakken is op dit late alcoholgehalte teveel gevraagd. Blootsvoets zwalken de meisjes verder, hangend aan de schouders, of de tong, van al niet stabieler ogende jongen...

Charm Alarm!

After 5.5 years in one and the same My First Workplace, how do you start anew? I've figured getting to and from the office, but then... My roommate understands what is most crucial - he cleans a cup and escorts me to the coffee machine. Freshly ground espresso - I can safely stay in Glasgow.  The official 'induction' on the second day is not much more extensive than the informal one on on the first day: I appear to already have learnt all that's in the list. Well, except for where to actually find the people involved - three Victorian houses merged together in a Psychology department equal one big maze. (Experts say it takes about a month to get oriented.) The inductress is nevertheless almost off within a minute - but then decides to introduce me to 'other people in the project'. She stops at one. Then luckily she remembers a crucial bit: the welcome present. The Charm Alarm! The Charm Alarm! is a big pink egg resembling a hand grenade. If you pull out the p...

GlasGone!

'But you're in South America!' The reaction when I tell fellow jungle travellers in Ecuador that I will be moving to Glasgow within two weeks. One week after I return, hopefully without having caught any sort of tropical disease.  I spend that week urging myself to pack up home and office, only succeeding when the deadline is finally concrete enough to be felt (TODAY) - as always. In the spare hours I do last beers, last dinners, last office visits, last shopping spree, last goodbyes, last.... Sometimes I realize what's happening and a few (or many) tears escape, sometimes I don't and I keep telling myself I'm moving to another country.  At the airport any potential goodbye stress is neutralized by the need to beat Ryanair's baggage policies. How do you redistribute 45 kilos in four bags so that they become 40 kilos in three bags? My team of goodbye wavers succeeds (luckily, not everyone is good at maths), while in my head all thinking processes have bee...