So for the most part we are settled in. Our boxes and cases were quickly unpacked, although things keep getting moved around until I feel they are ‘truly settled’ and the flat was deep cleaned by yours truly before we moved all our things, I feel sorry for whoever thinks our place was ‘clean’ before we got the keys because for the most part their home must be most unpleasant, but their cooker and bath will be spotless…. Other than a few minor scratches on picture frames (we didn’t wrap things, they just got piled up and moved when there was space) our stuff got here fine, although for anyone thinking of moving to Main Street or Irish Town, and doing it yourself, you will need a permit to drive down it. Or as we did, ask at the local Police Station if we can borrow, on and off one of their now redundant parking spaces, a huge thank you to the kind officer who said yes, and to the very rude policewoman who came on duty at night, I hope karma finds you lady, you are the wrong kind of person to wield any form of power. Anyway back to the permits… they cost nothing and can be arranged over the phone, but you will need to collect it in person from the MOT place over by Eastern Beach. Plus, I think you can only access Main Street and Irish Town before 10am or after 7pm. I might be wrong on that, because I am sure the lady asked me what time I wanted stamped on the permit, but my advice would be to move on a Sunday if you want to do it during the day. Because the humans who see cars / vans etc on Main Street, do not think ‘Oh those people are laden with heavy things, I should move so they have easy access’, oh no, quite the opposite in fact, so we made sure we moved at night. Two suit cases taught us that lesson.
We decided to ‘do it ourselves‘, and by that I mean we were extremely lucky in having friends help us, rather than hire a removal company, I don’t know why we did this to be honest, and there aren’t enough ‘sorries’ in the world to tell our friends, because we must have driven them insane, I think we thought we had less crap than we did. If and when the time comes to move from here, we will most certainly be using a removal company. They can get permits, and deal with furniture and the exercise bike, and the irritating humans who don’t move even though you have a massive heavy object in your arms, while I stand and watch and comfort the cat who looks very concerned at all our things disappearing, which leads nicely on to this…
Confession, for the past two years we have been harbouring a cat. She was dumped in our old street, and she was tiny. For a year we fed her (and made firm friends with the people across the road because of our mutual care for her) on the street, even going so far as to take her to the vets when she got a skin complaint.
One winter the rain was so bad that our balcony roof leaked and when our landlord came round to inspect the damage, I asked him outright if we could take her in. Explaining we are cat people, not kids people. Strictly no animals in our contract, mainly because of previous tenants causing damage, but also because his dad hates animals. I shuddered. Imagine that? Hating all animals? Bizarre! Fortunately, the son (and the person we dealt with all the time) said we could sneak her in, so long as we never told another soul. We didn’t tell anyone in the building, but some of our friends were loosely connected to other people in the building. I’m telling you the amount of swearing people to secret we did was ridiculous. Sneaking her to the vets (quite a lot as she has asthma) was a two person covert operation, and I wont kid you, it got quite stressful. So a big part of moving came from wanting to be honest about having a pet. I don’t like hiding important parts of my life like they are a dirty secret. In our new place it is as if she knows she is allowed. She mews louder and more frequently and spends her days sunbathing and watching the birds and chasing her catnip mouse. And I get to go out safe in the knowledge that I am not being a deceitful little witch to anyone. That is not good for the soul you know, keeping secrets like that. Also the other reason we moved was a rent increase. A hundred pounds we would have swallowed but it went up by several and rather annoyingly we discovered this when I started to ‘worry about renewing’ (we asked at the tail end of last year and still hadn’t heard a peep by the middle of January) and started to look online, where I found our apartment at its newly inflated rate. Gutted doesn’t cover it.
About ten days after moving here, I got the flu. This isn’t an exaggeration of a bad cold. This was going to the cinema feeling a bit rough around the edges and very, inexplicably tired, and then returning home with blue lips and hands. (I simply can not reveal the tripe we (myself and a friend, Mr BOTR resolutely refused to view it) watched as it will leave me open to so many rude comments, especially the blue mouth. Mind you, I’ve not been that subtle, so you’ve probably guessed!)
The next day my throat really hurt. The day after that I was so ill. My head was pounding, I was shivering, aching, sneezing, feeling sick, feeling boiling hot, freezing cold, and this delightful set of ailments lasted for about four days. I knew it was bad when I couldn’t even be bothered to eat chocolate. Two weeks along from my bed ridden days and I just have a bit of chesty cough and my sinus is all wonky, but I am finally able to walk about, or doing some cleaning without feeling as though I’m wading through treacle. It was most bizarre. Fortunately Mr BOTR didn’t get it, so I am going to put it down to the stress of moving. Mind you I feel as though I should plant a tree somewhere, given the amount of tissues I have worked my way through. I am responsible for rain forests been torn down. It was not a good few weeks.
After moving into the new place came tidying up the old one. Because of the cat, I really deep cleaned, I’ll be damned if I am being rumbled over some stray fur hidden somewhere, two years of sneaking around will not be undone by seasonal shedding. (Also don’t read into this, that I don’t clean, because I do, but as anyone with a pet will tell you, they simply don’t stop leaving fur in the most random of places.) And because of the wear and tear of living somewhere for three years I also painted. Which I wont deny, I really enjoyed. It has been a few years, but I still have it!
So that took up a couple of days. Note to all landlords, please tile kitchen walls where the sink is, and also where you have the only power points for a kettle, because paint peels when it is getting steamed or soggy on a daily basis. We got our full deposit, and a glowing reference which was really nice.
Mr BOTR did the handover mostly because I knew that I would blurt out, we have had a pet living here, mwhahaha. And also because we were expecting someone to come round, although who that was escapes me.
Moving here we have had to open accounts for electricity, for water and now the TV people want to charge us for the shambolic service they provide. Given that the internet here is pretty stable most of the time Mr BOTR feels the best option is an android box, nope I have no idea what that is, but Mr BOTR is the technology person so I shall trust his judgement. We have given it some thought and shall be declining their dubious offer of £200 connection fee, £66 a year for TV that they blatantly pirate from the UK. I don’t object to the annual fee, but the man on the phone was a total prig when I said I wasn’t prepared to have someone come to the flat and tell me the aerial was plugged in, thanks pal, but I’ll save myself £200 and just switch on the TV now with the remote and hey presto don’t you, the jumping staggered images and badly synced sound is right there, just like it was in the South District. So we shall be going with one of the android boxes. Especially as the man on the phone called me facetious when I told him about switching the TV on for him to hear down the phone. (Also why oh why can’t these things be sorted out completely online or over the phone? It is 2015 folks, I am so over walking to offices, queuing up with people, to be told my form is the wrong colour! Lol!)
So anyway, we are here, in town. And we both love the new location, even though we were both a bit worried about the noise (only a small amount, and no traffic sounds (woohoo), and there isn’t ever going to be a time when we don’t enjoy hearing the jets on the runway) and we are both getting used to the creaking living room. Or as civilised people call it ‘conservatory’. It is the ideal location for horror films, because when the birds land on the roof it makes us jump and the cat cackle, I guess I will miss our spare room, but we shall see how our guests deal with the drafts and creaking windows when the time comes to it! In the mean time I am going to solve why the wind only comes through one of those blasted seals without having to harass the landlord once again…