Tag: moving

Things no one tells you before you move to (southern) Italy.

Pizza, cheese and wine every day, wandering on little cobble streets, gelato for lunch, pasta for dinner, music everywhere, slow and relaxed life, Italians are never in a rush, everything is easy. The Italian dream. That’s how most imagine living in Italy is like. But is it really?

I’ve been living at Reggio Calabria, a small town down at the bottom of the Italian ‘boot’ for over a month now and let me tell you what I’ve learned so far.

Settling in

Bureaucracy

Oh my lord I thought bureaucracy was awful in Cyprus after I’ve lived in the UK for 10 years, but so far Italy is the winner by a mile.

Setting up a bank account is a nightmare, especially if you don’t have a permanent address or if you do but it doesn’t ‘match’ your nationality.

First of all, you need a translator as nobody speaks English (more on that later), then you have to physically go to the bank, which still happens nowadays (although with most large banks you can set up an account online, at least in the UK), so fair enough. But, be prepared.

In order to open an Italian bank account you need a ‘fiscal code’ first (the equivalent to the NI number in the UK). To get that fiscal code you have to fill in a form and apply, in person of course, at ‘Agenzia delle Entrate’ (Italian tax office). Therefore first step: Get the fiscal code (then an Italian phone number, -see reason below-, and then go to the bank to open an account). You will also need some official documentation (if there’s a mismatch between your address and nationality) stating your NI number.

Also, it’s highly recommended to get an Italian phone number before you get an account. The bank I’m with will send you your PIN through SMS for free OR you have to pay an additional 5 euros (to the 23 euros fee to set up the account) to send it to you through the post.

Bear in mind that for some providers e.g. TIM it takes 24 hours for the sim card to be activated, so I’d suggest getting the SIM card a few days before you head to the bank in case something goes wrong (which can easily happen).

Sorting out the internet is not straight forward I found. The flat I live in doesn’t have a router, I don’t even know if it has a landline set up. The only option was mobile internet. I got a MiFi device (mobile wi-fi) for 40 euros and a data SIM card, 14,99 for 50 GB a month. So far so good, though TIM customer service is not the best, topping up after the first month didn’t work and I was overcharged and when I asked for a refund I was asked to send a fax (we live in 2019 for God’s sake, who uses fax?).

Living

Non parlo Italiano. The most common phrase I’ve used so far. Living in a small Italian town has its perks but also means that very few people, even in shops, speak English. My advice: learn Italian as soon as physically possible. (PS TV is also in Italian, everything is dubbed, thank God for Netflix).

Renting is cheap compared to other Italian cities (I pay 450 euros for rent plus electricity and gas), though salaries are generally low. Financially it would have been much better to share, but I’m too old and fussy.

Rubbish collection, when, what, how? In a huge contrast to bureaucracy and archaic systems in place, (as well as horrendous traffic) Southern Italians are keen on recycling, which is awesome, though ever so confusing. Some days are only for organic/food waste collection, others paper and cartons, then multimateriale (cans, plastic etc) and indifferenziato (still unsure what that is) and each bin it’s a different colour. It took me a while to get used to it and remember to regularly check the schedule.

Local cuisine is as great as you’d expect. I don’t have much free time as you might be aware if you read my previous post on the life of a newly qualified EFL teacher, but so far I’ve tried the local pizza and Sicilian arancino and canoli. De-li-cious.

Food shopping can be expensive, if you don’t live near a Lidl. I pay more than I thought I would on groceries and some things you’d find for a pound or less in the UK (or Cyprus) you pay 3-4 euros here e.g. baked beans.

Amazon Italia is not as good as Amazon UK. Most products are more expensive than expected and the range is limited compared to Amazon UK.

The Chinese shop is the place to go for a rather random but large selection of affordable items from Christmas decorations to stationery.

What dance/yoga/art… lessons are you talking about? I’m not sure if this is due to location or the size of the town but for whatever reason, other than shopping and an escape room I recently discovered there’s not too much to do in the city in terms of hobbies, not that I have time anyway, but I’d love to have the option. Plenty though outside the city (or if you take the ferry to Sicily). If only driving was easy in this crazy country!

Drugs are ridiculously expensive. I paid 14 euros for Nurofen Cold and Flu!! I had no idea that you can get the same drugs but ‘unbranded’ cheaper. Of course pharmacists avoid telling you that so you buy the most expensive ones, so make sure you ask for Tachiflu instead or Tachipirina (paracetamol) or take some essentials with you.

Public transport is not the best around here, so be prepared to walk,-don’t even think about cycling, even if the town was not that hilly, you will almost certainly be hit by a car-, or if you drive you’ll have to get used to risking your life daily getting hit by another car and endless hours stuck in traffic-. Italians are infamous for their terrible driving and that is actually very true. Please remember, very rarely cars stop at crossings, check carefully before you even attempt to step on the street.

What else?

Other little things I discovered:

Certain cities e.g. Palermo (where I stayed for two nights) charge City Tax for hotel stays, 1-3 euros per person per night depending on hotel stars.

Haircuts are dirt cheap. I paid 12 euros for a decent haircut.

Some things are difficult and/or expensive to find in a small Italian town e.g. kettle, Chocolate Digestives, avocados, WHERE THE HELL ARE THE AVOCADOS?e

Italian time is similar to Cypriot time ie noone is in any rush, expect delays to the hairdresser, supermarket, meetings, I won’t even comment on post etc.

People are a bit nosy and loud but quite friendly, caring and always offer to help, which I love. Some of the kids in my classes, although they only know me for a month, they give me a hug every time after each lesson, one girl drew a little sketch of me and I had plenty of fun conversations and laughter with my older students.

All in all it’s been a mixed bag so far but I love the experience, getting to know a city by living in it. I’ve only been here for two months, I’m sure I’ll find out more as time goes by and when I do I’ll post an update.

I hope this might help anyone considering moving to Southern Italy. Feel free to share your experience on the comments, I’d love to hear how it’s been for others!

Eleni

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Following my dreams (just need to find out what they are) Chapter 2: Cyprus

Tuesday, 27th of August,

Wow. I do NOT know where to start from. If you could only see what is happening inside my head.

OK let’s start from right now.

I’ve been in Cyprus for two days and I spent the first one at the beach, at a gorgeous little bay in Protaras, Sirena Bay (with a cute, bohemian restaurant at the top of a hill overlooking the sea) which felt like manna from heaven, like rain after a hot, humid day, like a hot cup of tea and chocolate digestives on a freezing cold, winter afternoon.

As you know, I spent August in Cambridge doing my CELTA course. One of the most challenging, intense, stressful but also rewarding, extraordinary experiences of my life so far.

I haven’t slept more than a few hours a night for a month, I cried many a times, my anxiety completely paralysed me more than once, I didn’t get to see Cambridge much, visit Grantchester or the Wren library or go punting (I’m definitely returning in Cambridge just to do all this) but it was all worth it, not only for getting the qualification and marked as ‘above standard’ (Who? Me! I never taught in my life!) but mostly for the friends I made from all over the world. My classmates, my students, my flatmates. I’ll write about it very soon to share my experience with others who are considering doing the CELTA. For now, I’m still trying to recover from it. I still dream of lesson plans, teaching, my classmates, my tutors.

On my last day in the UK, I visited my brother Andi and had an awesome day in London. It didn’t feel real what was happening. I have actually left Southampton for good, I finished my course and I’m on my way to Cyprus, with no fixed plan. What the hell.

I’m in Cyprus since Sunday and I feel completely lost. Should I try and get an English language teaching job and get experience right away, since I absolutely loved teaching, but leave in a month, or should I do what I originally planned, and have a few months of holiday, write, make videos, read books, try different things and then go? Should I go in Vietnam first or Costa Rica? Asia or Latin America? Or Europe?

No bloody idea. For now, I’ll leave all of this behind and enjoy a couple of weeks of holiday, a few days in Protaras and then Rhodes (vlogs coming very soon), get back into my yoga, give my mind time to rest and reset and then who knows.

To all my friends, in Southampton, Cambridge, Russia, Bangladesh, Spain, Italy and wherever else you might be, I miss you dearly already.

I sometimes wish making a decision was easy, so many options but then again how boring life would be if I didn’t have any.

Eleni

July the 16th

There’s not much to say for the actual day. That’s what normally happens doesn’t it? It’s always the build up before the big day that causes most of the angst and it’s almost never as bad as you think it will be.

Monday, 16th of July

I woke up bright and early despite the exhaustion and the slight hangover (all worth it Jaba!). I had plans for the weekend I was not willing to cancel because of the move. Jazz night in London on Saturday, Mark’s 50th BBQ party on Sunday, I couldn’t possibly miss either so I spent the little time I had in between to pack and on Monday morning I was almost ready.

I had a last cup of coffee at the old place, finished packing and headed to the agency to fill in the paperwork and get the keys. On my way there I kept thinking of everything that happened the last 6 months. I know this is just in my mind, a symbolic gesture but it felt I can leave all of it behind, in that flat. As if never happened. Although it did. But I take what I learned from each and move on. Somehow every time it feels easier.

I went back home and waited for Barry, my removal man. After about two hours it was all done. Barry and his wife were just brilliant. Although I had more stuff that I originally thought, they squeezed everything in their van and didn’t charge me extra and they took special care of my more precious belongings.

I had no furniture other than my bed, a dressing table and a TV stand so after I unpacked most of my things, I put some blankets and cushions in a corner of the living room and connected the TV. It would do for now…

I was unbelievably happy I finally moved back on my own. Still, after two months, I catch myself smiling when thinking I now live alone again and I love everything about my new place, the space, they layout, the balcony, I even made a new friend, Mr Coco Flaps (thanks to Dan and Emma’s wonderful children who helped with the name).

Mr Coco Flaps

I tortured myself over the last couple of months overthinking, wondering if I was the problem.

Did I overreact? Should I have put up with living with someone else for a bit longer? Dirty dishes in the sink, not paying the Council tax and not saying anything until I got a letter (the first one I didn’t get to see until yesterday) from the Council. Surely it’s not just me who wouldn’t put up with this?

Did I cause getting ghosted twice over the last six months? Have I sub-consciously done something to make people disappear with no explanation? I would have never done that to anyone and it still shocks me that people think it’s OK to do that.

If that happened to you too, it is definitely NOT you. It’s not your fault if others are not brave or honest enough to just say what they think and what they feel. 

I’m not sure if everything happens for a reason. But you certainly learn from every single experience. Sometimes is a reminder of something you already know, sometimes it’s a brand new lesson and sometimes through a bad experience, you make new friends, you become closer to your existing friends and you appreciate life more. 

I’m a firm believer of starting over whenever you want to, it doesn’t have to be New Year or New Week or New Day, it could be a New Second, you can decide to change your life anytime, but moving into a new place is a de facto new start and an opportunity to hit the refresh button. There’s still a lot I want to do and as much as I try it’s not going to happen overnight, all this ‘When you desperately want something, the universe will make it happen’ is simply not true. Your life changes for the better when you keep trying and keep improving yourself. Just remember to be happy with where you are right now, love your self unlimitedly and don’t forget what you achieved so far. I certainly remind myself often.

As Adriene would say the light in me bows to the light in you.

Namaste

Eleni

 

 

July the 16th, the Graduation before

Ooh ooh, ooh
You are not alone
Ooh ooh
For the last time I am sure…

Graduation week at Solent. My favourite working week of the year, by-a-mile. A celebration of our students’ achievements, a special moment in their life, one they share with their loved ones, one they will always remember when they get old and wrinkly and I get to be part of it, helping out, ushering them, cheering them on just before they nervously walk on stage to get their certificate. Steve, a colleague told me a month later when I bumped into him how nice it was to see a friendly face down the stairs, smiling and chatting to the students before their big moment. See that’s why I love volunteering. The joy you get from it doesn’t compare to anything else.

This year was even more special, one I will remember. Why you ask.

Wednesday, 11th of July

I woke up in horrible pain. It’s not those days of the month yet, not just yet but all the anxiety took its toll. I sometimes worry the effect of stress on my body may have permanently damaged it…

I slowly got ready and went in the office early to scan and send some paperwork to the letting agent and put my gown on before I head to Guildhall for graduation.

I found out yesterday that if my references go through on time, I’ll have a place to move to on Monday. What else can go wrong you say…

Emails went through to a contact I had at the agency I rent my current flat from and my manager last night.  But neither reference forms have been filled in yet.

The heat, the thick gown and the anxiety levels fast rising caused me to break into nervous sweat. I could feel it dripping down my back.  I won’t have much time to check my phone as soon as the first ceremony starts until lunchtime…What if? What if?

Just before I finish my morning coffee I give Dan, my current landlord referee a call but there’s no answer…

I go back in, I can’t let this distract me from what I’m here to do. A year later I’m once again behind the bar at the Guildhall and some of my favourite colleagues are there. We have a chat and prepare for the morning ceremony. One of my favourite moments, the calmness and quiet before the first guests walk through the door. God I love everything about Graduation.

I check my phone every now and then, no news, neither reference has gone through yet.

At lunchtime I call the Radian main office and ask for Dan but I found out Dan had left the company so they give me another number to call. Nadine who is now managing our property was out and she was off for the rest of the week. I send an urgent email to a generic address and pray for the best.

The morning ceremony was just beautiful. There was an in house student band this year and they were in-cre-di-ble. Pete Wilson, the Popular Music and Performance course leader who organised the whole thing, did an amazing job once again.

I still remember their cover of Swim by Fickle Friends. By the end of the week we all have danced to it. Another little moment I saved in my memories box, watching everyone swinging along sometimes without realising.

Ooh ooh, ooh
You are not alone
Ooh ooh
For the last time I am sure…

After lunch I get an email from the agent, my landlord reference has gone through but not the one by my manager.

I go back in the office after we wrapped up for the day. It seems Suzanne never got that second email. Seriously? Sometimes I wonder how unlucky I can be.

I call Homelet, (the referencing company that the lettings agency is using, £75 references cost by the way, £75 for me to do all the hard work and for them to just send a reference form through email and they can’t even get that right) but they closed early that day. Come on!

I still need to book a removal company but I can’t really until I know for sure I’m moving on Monday.

It will all be VERY last minute…

Thursday 12th of July

I go straight to the Guildhall today. I want all the flat related problems to be over with so I can enjoy Graduation to the full. And soon they are.

I call Homelet first thing in the morning, apparently there was a glitch on the system but they re-send the email to Suzanne there and then, she fills in my reference soon after and then the lettings agency emails me to say that everything is OK and to go on Monday at 12pm to sign the contract, pay my deposit and get the keys. AMEN!

I can finally relax. I still have to arrange the actual move and do most of the packing before Saturday, since I’ll spend it in London but that’s something completely under my control, so I don’t have to worry about that.

The rest of the day was brilliant. I loved chatting to all my lovely colleagues, especially Gillian. What a woman. So caring, motherly and offered to help with anything. I hope she knows how lovely she is.

I loved ushering the students on stage especially Paul Maple, a talented colleague I remember since I met him when I first started working at Solent, 7 years ago, and I finally managed to sit on the big deck chair and have an ice-cream with Dext, enjoying the sunshine.

It was the best ice cream I ever had. Not because of the taste. It was a common vanilla ice cream. But that moment. The sun shining in my face, blessed I had a great day and finally a stress-free relaxing moment, after all the drama of the last four days.

Ice Cream

When I got home, I booked the removal company through AnyVan, the website I used six months ago when I moved again, I had no time to do any research and call for quote. It seems a local company accepted my quote but they didn’t send me any details straight away.  Maybe I should start thinking of Plan B in case I end up with no-one to help me move? My contract ends on Monday so I HAVE to leave my old place by then…

Friday, 13th of July

If you love somebody, let them know whilst they are here ’cause they just might run away from you… 

On Top of the World was playing on speakers and Lou, Sarah, Helen and I smiled at each other and hummed along…

I looked forward to this day for months. The last day of Graduation week 2018 and I would be part of the surprise Sarah, SingForce, the Solent choir and I were planning since Sarah came up with the idea months ago.

The morning ceremony went unexpectedly fast (in the meantime I got an email with my Removal company details, finally all ready for Monday) and with it a great surprise.

Whilst ushering students on stage, a familiar face… Steve Carter!!! Steve worked at Solent for years as the Head of Finance but I only got to know him better the last couple of years. He worked at Greece in the past so he knew Greek. Every now and then I’ll hear ‘Καλημέρα’ (Good morning) when wandering at work and it’ll make me smile, I knew it was Steve.  A sweet, caring manager and incredibly awesome at what he does.

As soon as I saw him I couldn’t help but smile. He gave me a hug and whispered in my ear how much he loved my blog. I teared up watching him go up on stage. What an honour to usher Steve on stage to get his Masters.

After a quick break for lunch, it was time for the last ceremony of 2018. Dan has just arrived, looking handsome in his black suit and Jack came along to film.

All the volunteers, exhausted but happy that we got to the end of this year’s Graduation ceremonies danced along to Swim whilst the procession came over from the Spark for the last time. Familiar faces were in the Procession who wouldn’t be under normal circumstances. Suzanne asked me if I knew why but I pretended I didn’t.

When everyone went in, just before I were to go in with Sarah and Donald to get in place for ushering, two trolleys full with gowns arrived from the Spark for the 80 special guests we were about to sneak into the Guildhall.

After ushering I didn’t get out as I normally do. I stood at the side and waited. The plan was for Dan to go on stage, start singing the first verse of On Top of the World and after that we join him, the Solent choir (some of were in the Procession) and Singforce members who came along to help us make this flashmob bigger. And we made it! What a beautiful end to an amazing week.

After wrapping up for the last time, we went out for a well-deserved drink. Sarah has done an incredible job again. Superwoman I call her. She really is. Thank you for trusting me again with such a great responsibility.

I’ll always remember Graduation week 2018. The drama and stress of moving but more so for the laughs, the chats, ushering our graduates on stage, watching Paul and Steve getting their degrees and of course the Flashmob.

Namaste

 

July the 16th, the Tuesday before. Divine Intervention

Tuesday, 10th of July

Is it morning yet?

It was a beautiful, sunny morning but it all I could see still was grey.

I somehow make it to work.

I got an email from the agency, the flat I’ve seen yesterday wouldn’t be ready for the 16th and someone made an offer to rent it at the end of the month, when it would be available. My heart sank.

I’m feeling sick again.

What should I do? Should I go for one of the claustrophobic, depressing studio flats I’ve seen and get it over with? Should I just give up for now and move in with Jamie until I find a place?’What should I do??

I had a last look online and there it was, a one bed flat on the High Street I’ve seen on Rightmove before but it was over my budget. The price was now reduced, still overbudget but only by £35. It is available now and it looks pretty.

I call the estates agent to arrange a viewing, for today if possible. I explained my situation and she re-assured me that moving in less than a week is possible as the flat was vacant.

I could go see it in about an hour but I’m at work, I can’t just leave. The only time the agent could do was 1:15pm, but there would be someone else viewing it at the same time. Just my luck. But I’d still go. You never know.

From 9am until lunchtime I was a wreck. I tried really hard to concentrate and do some work but every now and then my mind would fall into despair and I all I wanted  to do is cry.

Divine Intervention

Suddenly I get a message from Dan, one of the very few people who can understand the way my mind works, the crazy spiral it goes into when I’m stressed. He was at the Uni early for our choir session so I meet him downstairs. He gives me a big hug and we have a chat.  Talking to him was the only thing that eased my mind for a while. 

Under other circumstances I would give the rehearsal a miss, I can’t concentrate to do anything, let along remember lyrics and harmonies, but our little surprise for Graduation is in three days, this one was going to be just for that and I wouldn’t have missed that for anything. After our session I ran. I ran to make it to my appointment on time.

I viewed the flat at the same time as an elder couple and their daughter, they came along with her, she seemed very shy, I guess that’s why she brought their parents.

I loved it from the first time I walked into the building. Spacious corridors with laminated floors, grandiose mirrors on each floor, freshly clean smell and the flat itself was spacious, more than enough for one, modern, it even had a large balcony I didn’t know about.

Do I like it ’cause it’s actually nice or because I’m desperate to move on the 16th and avoid the hassle of moving twice? I often wonder why and how I do things. Sometimes I can easily recognise that I do something I truly like, others  because of this innate need, which more than often leads to disappointment, to feel accepted, loved, important, wanted, safe.

This feels right though. I like it for the right reasons. I can see myself living happily here. It’s modern and big enough to have friends over, cosy autumn nights with a hot cuppa watching films or snuggled on my sofa reading a book, sunny mornings doing my yoga in the living room, sitting on the balcony people watching in the summer. 

This could be it, but don’t get too excited yet.

I asked the agent what would happen if we both liked the flat. It seems that the young shy girl and her parents liked it too.

-In that case, we’d take both offers to the landlady and she will choose.

-And if I make an offer and is accepted, is it possible to move in on Monday?

-It usually takes over a week, it’s probably not possible. If you like it, give the office a call, as I’m off for the rest of the day and they’ll talk things through.

My heart sank, again. So it probably won’t happen. I called the agency on my way back to work and left a message anyway. An hour went by and didn’t hear from them. I knew it was over. I ran to the toilet and had a cry.

I messaged Jamie if I could still move in his spare room. He fortunately left me a spare key- he was going on holiday today but he is so thoughtful he left me a key at work to use if needed.

Although I was sad things didn’t work out, I was relieved, I didn’t have to stress and desperately keep looking for a place to move in 6 days, my anxiety would be kept at bay, for now.

Divine intervention

I stayed at work late, since I had a long lunch break and around 17:30 I get a phone call, from the agency. In my rush earlier I didn’t leave my name on my message, they lady on the other end of the line told me. I can’t remember much. That’s what happens when I’m too anxious.

It took them hours to figure out who it was.

She told me that if I still wanted to, she could contact the landlady and put my offer forward and if all my references go through within the next 24 hours, I can move in on the 16th.

I couldn’t believe it! 

My battery was about to go and I sat at the park, at my favourite bench, patiently waiting for the agent to call me back and let me know if the landlady accepted my offer.

my favourite spot

After what felt like hours, but it was actually 10 minutes later my phone rings.

Yes, the landlady agreed!!! I may now have a home!

I stayed there, at the bench, staring at the sun, thanking my lucky stars for today. I then message Chris, Dan, Sheba and my little sister to tell them the good news. I wouldn’t have done it without them. I would have broken down into million pieces and felt so paralysed I wouldn’t have kept going. I can’t stop thinking how lucky I am to have such incredible, loving, caring friends and family.

The huge rock that was on my back, crushing my bones into the ground all this time was suddenly lifted. It’s not over yet, I still need the references to go through quickly, I know my manager will fill in the forms instantly but what about my current landlord?

To be continued…

 

July the 16th, the Monday before

July the 16th, a date that filled me with joy and anticipation, the day I were to move out of a shared flat into my own little heaven once again, a day I’ve been eagerly waiting for months… a day that caused me sleepless nights and severe anxiety, though it was all worth it in the end.

Monday, 9th of July, the week before the big date…

Morning. Another sleepless night. I drag myself out of bed, get ready as fast as I possibly can and head to work. The weather has been glorious, sun shining, birds chirping, but my stress has transformed everything into a melancholic Van Gogh painting.

I find a wrapped bottle of something on my desk… What is it? Who is it from?

Denise brought me rose water from Cyprus!!! I can’t believe she remembered.

I open it there and then and wash my hands with it. I almost cried. Sweet childhood memories of hot summer days back home, washing my giagia Stella’s face with it, spraying it in my face ’cause I loved the smell so much.

For a moment I forget all my troubles. I wish Denise knew what that meant to me. I needed that brief time of calmness and joy in the sea of worries that’s been drowning me for the last couple of weeks. I’m so lucky to have such wonderful friends.

12:45pm. I just came back to work after the fourth viewing in the last two weeks. I think I liked this flat the most out of the rest. It’s small, but not a studio, it’s just opposite work, is a bit over budget but it will do. I can make it work.

I saw a recipe in Greek on the fridge, hah he is Greek…

It will finally put an end to this endless anxiety and constant worry whether I’d have somewhere to move to next Monday.  But not just somewhere, somewhere I at least like.

The flats I’ve already seen were either too small, or too old, or no washing machine, or no oven (I have no idea how the person who lived there survived without an oven). I guess I can always compromise.

If I could make a decision… 

The excruciating pain of my paralysing inability to make a decision… Should I go for a studio flat and try and save more money or should I pay a bit more and live somewhere nice for the first time ever after I broke up with Costas, rather than a tiny studio or an old building or living with a flatmate again? What’s most important? Location or space? What should I do? Compromise and try to save or go for comfort for once? Treat myself instead? But Chris is right, it may be better to wait and find a place I really like, a place that feels like home.  What if I don’t find a place by next Monday, what if I end up on the street? What if am making the wrong decision? What is the meaning of life anyway? Aaaah

I haven’t slept well in weeks, I don’t have much of an appetite and I feel I may throw up any minute now.

I’m waiting for the agency to give me a call back and let me know whether the current tenant can move out of the flat by Monday, they reassured me that would probably be OK, but they have to check with him…

-We’ll let you know as soon as possible, in a couple of hours, he (the tenant) usually gets back to us quick.

2pm, 3pm, 4pm, 5pm. I haven’t heard back from them.

I could barely concentrate at work, but thankfully managed to keep on top.

I went home, had something small to eat and went to bed. I couldn’t do anything else.

What if the tenant can’t move out on the 16th? Should I go for one of the flats I’ve already seen? Maybe the larger studio I liked but in an ugly, dirty building? Should I stay with Jamie for a while instead until I find somewhere I really like? But what will I do with my stuff? Maybe just go for the small, tiny one that is available now?

Pleasee stop, everything will be OK, I’m sure the agent will call first thing in the morning and tell you everything will be fine, go to sleep.  But what if?

I barely slept.

 

 

 

The world’s best pastry chef, anyvan.com and other things I recently discovered.

The World’s best Pastry chef

I annoyingly left the book I’ve been desperately trying to finish (and still do) in my luggage up in the overhead locker. I had just boarded the 4 and a half hour flight back to the UK after spending the Christmas holidays at home. I was tired, emotional and I just settled at my seat. The last thing I wanted to do was disturb the lovely couple sitting next to me (who kindly offered me the window seat so they could sit next to each other).

So after a nap and in a desperate effort to blank out the non-stop crying noise from the toddler at the seats behind me, I put my favourite music on and grabbed the latest Traveller, Easyjet’s inflight magazine.

I love their magazine, it’s always full of interesting, exciting stories and one of the main features in the January issue was a piece on the World’s best Pastry Chef for 2017, Cedric Grolet. I instantly fell in love with his creations and his incredible talent. I follow him on Instagram since and is one of my favourite feeds at the moment. The man is an artist. What else can you call an apple tart resembling a perfectly formed apple? Afternoon tea at Le Meurice hotel’s restaurant, Le Dali in Paris where one can taste Cedric’s art at a reasonable price is now on my bucket list.

Anyvan.com

After Shebz left for her Central America adventure I had a week to pack until I were to move to my now new home and this time I was not going to even attempt the move all by myself. I was prepared to pay as much as necessary to avoid last year’s disaster. I had a quick look on Gumtree, there were a lot of local removal companies but I didn’t have the time or energy to call and ask for a quote, compare and decide, so after a quick Google search I came across anyvan.com.

I did everything online, from getting a quote to final payment, their agents were extremely helpful, the price was reasonable and it all went smoothly. The day before my move, my driver Josh called me to confirm time and location and himself and his sister who was his assistant on the day were lovely and even offered to give me a lift in their van so I didn’t have to get a taxi to the new place. I can’t recommend them enough!

Argos next day delivery

Last Saturday, a day after I moved in, there were only three boxes left to unpack. All the clothes that needed hanging. I could not handle the sighting, boxes sitting there, clothes trapped in them, and settling down as soon as possible was my number one priority, so I went on Amazon and Google to try and get a cheap wardrobe delivered for Sunday. Since Amazon Prime couldn’t deliver until Monday I ended up on the Argos page, I haven’t bought anything from Argos for years, I didn’t even know they offered next day delivery. I’ve ordered my white fabric portable wardrobe to match the white theme of my bedroom and a bathroom bin on Saturday afternoon and it was delivered to me the following day on a designated time slot of my choice. Impressed!

Instagram favourite

About a week ago, whilst browsing through the discover section on Instagram, one of my favourite things to do, I found this gorgeous snap by the extremely talented Turkish Photographer and travel writer below.

It’s not an exotic beach or a hot travel destination. But it’s simple and powerful. That’s exactly what I want to experience and discover on my next travel adventure. Every day people living in an old house in the middle of the mountains having a chat. Check onderkoca’s feed for more, totally worth it.

That’s all from me on this crispy cold Friday evening. If you’d like to share any interesting things you discovered recently, share below 🙂

Have a lovely weekend everyone!

Eleni