Another brief update

Well, I finally have a moment where I am forced to sit still - on the train to London. I almost wimped out and stayed home for the weekend, feeling too stressed and frazzled earlier this week. But nah, I couldn't miss out on spending tonight in London, with the promise of good music and good friends, some of which I still have yet to catch up with since arriving here. Last night, however, I finally had a chance to explore and appreciate this city which I chose to live in. I walked to the train station/center of town, a 20-25 minute walk. Easy enough. Found a delightfully huge shopping center with my main, important UK eateries, namely Yo Sushi and Wagamama. Oh, and a Krispy Kreme. Any store I could possibly need is there, lovely. In the main street/outdoor shopping area there was a little pseudo German Christmas market set up. Cute! Of course I'm certainly intending to go to the real thing in Berlin, too. I stopped off on the way back at the loal ctity division of Sainsbury's supermarket, and the kid at the counter asks " Are you from America?"
"Yup! Just moved to town!"
"Your accent is brilliant! Why here?..."
"Well I think everybody here's accent is brilliant! I got a job nearby, my Husband lives in London..."
" But things are so much better in The States, aren't they? Why would you want to come here?"

Ha, further proving that the grass only seems greener on the other side of the pond... For me, the pros here are definitely still outweighing the cons!

!!

So much to share! So little time! Give myself enough time to properly settle in in a peaceful, relaxed, and orderly manner? Pfft, now why would I do that? Move-in day as well as first day of work were both on Monday, and would totally not have been possible without the help of my dear, wonderful Hubby. Same goes for internet, between the phone and the iPad, which are pretty much all I get for access any time soon. Not like I have much time to write, anyway.

Job is great, flat is great (though maybe not as centrally located as I had hoped), driving... Err... Lts just say I made it to work and from work today without getting lost and without any near-misses for the first time today, and that was a huge accomplishment. It's not so bad, and nothing i can't get used to, but definitely a bit stressful. And sure, I'll drive around NYC, Boston, no problem!

Ok, need sleep! Hooray for Friday - everybody gets to go home for the week around 1:00! At the very least, I'm told the office is pretty much deserted by 3pm. Hooray for this side of the world! Fruits still depressing, though.

The Land of Depressing Fruits

Back when we went grocery shopping, days ago, I had gotten a mango. It looked decent in color, decent in size, good trusty mango, good part of my balanced weekend breakfasts. I'd let it sit in the kitchen for a few days to ripen, already being all too familiar with the deep regret of cutting into an unripe mango too early. And this one was firm, so I knew it could be a while until it was ready for consumption. So, days later, when it still showed the same promising color of the skin and some glistening sappy ooze coming out of the end, I figured it was ripe. I cut into it and find that it's still hard, still pale. I still take the time to peel and cut it, but upon eating it, huge, huge disappointment!! I've had mangoes that were still sour when I went to eat them, but this wimpy specimen showed no signs of life at all! Not sour, with promise that it could one day be sweet, but really a go nowhere, minimum requirements mango. It was so pale, so tasteless, tasted almost like a potato or carrot. Just wrong. Lesson learned, do not expect to find respectable tropical fruits on this side of the pond. (Especially not at ASDA - UK's equivalent of Walmart).

Hubby gently advised me that I should just give up on finding any sort of flavorful fruit *or* vegetable here because on this overcast little island, the produce world is pretty bleak. At least in the dairy world, after fearing that I would miss Cabot Extra Sharp cheddar cheese (one of my American Food Staples), I come here and see that the cheese aisle is pretty much half occupied with a selection of various fine cheddar cheeses. *And* an abundance of the the delicious but elusive-in-the-US halloumi cheese. Which brings me to my next blog post...

Update

Hmm... sit inside and update my blog, or go explore my *favorite city in the world* while my hubby is at work?

Yeah, sorry guys, more later! Featuring updates such as:

• The Land Of Depressing Fruits
• Black Market Polish Street Cheese, and other adventures contrary to anything I learned in my Food Sanitation and Safety class

And maybe some stuff not related to food, as well. maybe.

The Fun Stuff

Ok, with the flat stuff mostly sorted, and feeling greatly accomplished all around, tonight it's fun time! Time to go do something British and go see some fireworks for Guy Fawkes Day (actually on Monday, but I guess Saturday is the better night for fireworks). Standing around outside watching fireworks on a nice warm evening for 4th of July? Ok, sounds lovely. Standing around outside at night on a brisk, chilly, early November evening? Well... ok... if that's what they do... At least it's a chance to finally go and meet up with some of these friends who have been awaiting my arrival. None of whom are actually British, in fact. Then probably going out and about later. The only downfall of having collected all of this really nifty going-out wear in London throughout the years is that now that I'm finally here, it's not quite so novel and rare and special. Oh well, small price to pay!

Also, Dear Hubby and I had the good ol' family experience of going out shopping for food and other practical home life things. And came home with this:

Match made in heaven, indeed!

First driving experience also happened. Slowly and hesitantly made my way around the block a few times and back to the flat. Not too bad. I'm thinking I'll handle it like I handle everything else new adventurous. Be optimistic, patient, and feign confidence! Just gotta go and make yourself do it! And a master plan has even been developed if I get myself into any sort of trouble - stick the Kitties onto some other unsuspecting nearby car and make a break for it!!

The Home-Hunt

Ok! Today's mission: Find me a home! I was targeting the Birmingham area, so Dear Hubby and I had made a few appointments for viewings of flats to rent in the area. Goals: Walking distance to the train station so I can hop the train to London easily for the weekend, easy access to motorways going north/west to get to work, and ideally a parking space for my Meow-Mobile. First flat: A promising location, the ad boasted being by a canal, having a parking space, and being centrally located. As we wander around the building to find the entrance, we walk by the canal, ok, nice, this could be good, I could go for runs by the canal, that would be lovely. We meet with the landlord, a pleasant, professional, trustworthy seeming fellow. He tells us that the place has been newly refurbished, good, good, even though we haven't seen pictures of it yet. So we enter, and... it's tiny. Nice closet space in the bedroom, but looking at the kitchen, I think to myself "Do they know just *how* much cookware I've shipped over to stock these cabinets with?!" (Nevermind where I'd put all my food/ingredients...?....). And a fridge that he indicates will be put underneath the kitchen counter. So um... a fridge that's about half the size I'm used to - I had a bigger fridge in my college dorm! "Well", I say to self, "You've always wanted to live in a 'city', so... yeah! This is what you get!". We say thank you's and farewells, and continue on, still holding higher hopes for flats 2, 3, and 4.
We drive to meeting point #2, park, and wait for the realtor who tells us he's running late. We park the Meow-Mobile, and quickly realize, as Asian person after Asian person pass, point in delight, and chatter to eachother about my car, that I could very well become the most popular kid in the neighborhood. We wait... and wait... and wait... and eventually an older guy and younger woman, who could be his assistant, arrive and park in front of us, in a car as described our realtor #2 would be in. I look at them, kind of questioningly and smiling through the windshield, wave at them. They get out of their car and walk on by. Uh... oops, heh, that wasn't them. Some other guy soon pulls up along the road, after them, and turns out to be our actual realtor. So what we know so far about this place is 1) the assistant who didn't sound too on top of things wasn't sure if parking could be arranged (as it definitely did not come with the rental), 2) the realtor was running late... hmm... not very professional... He leads us to the apartment complex, ok, no so bad, it's a nice area, clean, bright enough looking, cheerful, in an Asian section of town with an Asian market just out the door - great for cooking needs! The guy finds the correct entry door and pokes at some buttons on the entrance security panel, pulls the door handle - nothing. Pokes at more buttons, fiddles with the handle some more. Nothing. He calls somebody to ask what the code is, again, and what's the procedure to open the door, attempts again, klunk, the door is still locked. At this point it's getting kind of awkward and we're wondering if we can even trust this guy to rent us a place, and consider giving up now. But then he presses the buzzer, a woman answers, and he explains who he is and that he has people to view the apartment. She lets him in. Ok, no big deal, sure, sometimes they have viewings for a place before the tenant has actually moved out, fine. We get up to the floor, knock on the door, and a petite woman in a bathrobe answers the door and explains that she'd been sleeping. We're escorted in to see the place, it looks decent, clean, modern, surely larger than the first place. Realtor gestures to the bathroom, I grab the handle to open the door, and it comes off in my hand! Heh... oops... greeeat. Ok, still a nice looking place. Realtor explains to us that they're still looking for a new flat for the tenant, but they're hoping to have her out in a week or two, at least within the month. Uh... that doesn't really work, as I'm starting work on the 12th and need a home, or at least a definite promise of one. We look at the place, at least the kitchen is decent sized... peek in her bedroom and see a collection of ten to fifteen cheap mobile phones scattered on her bed and a copy of a book next to them. "Fifty Shades of Grey", she explains, "Have you read it? Yeah, I was just in bed reading that...". With your collection of phones? Kind of odd... All in all it was a really nice place in a really nice area, but it just seemed unreliable, at best, to not be guaranteed an actual date of when I could move in. Why is it the realtor's responsibility to find the tenant a new home? And when we asked the tenant about living in the place, her selling points were that it was warm and it was safe - she lived alone and felt totally ok with it. We explained to the realtor that we were looking for something in the center or at least the northwest area of the city, so I could get to work easily, and still be able to get to the city center. He looks thoughtful for a moment and says "Oh, I do have one! It's *very* spacious, two bedroom, I can check on the price. It's right above our office, you can come over and see it!". He calls "headquarters" to verify the price of it, and reports back to us that it's only 450GPB per month, and with free parking in the area! (Other places we looked at were in the 600-700 range). Street-smart Hubby asks "And just how far from the center of town is it, being that price?". "Oh, heh heh, a 10 minute drive, there's a tram station near by...". Well, by this point we're already running late for our next viewing, but promise to call this guy after to meet up to see this place because who knows, it could be *ok*...
We scramble to meet realtor #3, in the more southeast corner of the city. We know nothing about the city. We drive and drive and the neighborhoods become more populated with disheveled, crumbling buildings, more and more graffiti... ehh... We meet the girl to show us this place, walk down some stained carpets, take a ride up in the carpeted lift, also stained, and enter the flat. Not particularly impressive. It was advertised as having a balcony. The "balcony" is some maybe one foot by four foot ledge that's blocked off by some railing, just right outside the bedroom door. Can't even put a chair out there. In the bedroom there's a kind of cruddy looking bed and a deflated air mattress in the corner. "Furnished". Mmmm... this is an easy "no thanks". Dingy flat in a dodgy neighborhood. Ok, so there's one more viewing coming up at the end of the day, but first we decide to drive to see this previous guy "spacious" flat, above their office. Drive and drive, traffic, stoplights, driving up into what seems to be Little India, many stores with some quite beautiful looking saris in the windows. Ok, GPS says we've finally arrived. Um... really? Is this it? The address is right. Upstairs in this building... this building that has a sign indicating that the first floor is a home for "Learning Disabilities, Physical Disabilities, Elderly, Challenging Behaviour, Epilepsy, Autism". You've got to be kidding me. There is also a sign indicating that it is the correct building for the real estate agency. We call our realtor #2, he says he's not in the area, but his assistant is in the office and can show us the flat. She meets us downstairs and explains that she doesn't have the key to the flat, but she can show us pictures. Ok, fine. We follow her up the stairs to the office, and we talk about how we really liked the previous flat, but why is the woman there looking to move out? Realtor assistant says she doesn't really know why he wants to move out and that the real estate agents are trying to find a new place for them. "Him"? "Them"? As far as we saw, it was only one woman there. Weird... We don't really get an answer other than "Oh, I don't know, some people just like change, you know?". So she pulls up pictures of this "spacious" flat, and yeah, it's spacious, all right - it's an attic! A finished attic! Triangular, low ceilings. An attic above a group home in some creepy remote section of town? Great big NO.
At this point things start to look bleak... But alas, there was still flat #4.
We make our way to this part of town, the classy sounding Jewellery Quarter, with supposedly a good reputation. Meet the agent in his office, right across the way from the actual rental property. Decent seeming young fellow. He shows us to the place, nice, clean, modern, with a tenant guaranteed to move out by a certain date (good!) and a secure allocated parking space with the flat. I first see the bathroom - now that's a bathroom! Twice the size of any of the other bathrooms we'd seen! A nice little living room/kitchen off to one side of the main hallway, with a balcony! A proper balcony! That you could actually put tables and chairs and friends on! And that is one of the *two* balconies, the other being outside of the ample sized and nicely-furnished bedroom. Dear Hubby nudges me from behind and grins as this perfectly acceptable, no, wonderful place is being shown to us. We thank the guy and tell him we might need a few minutes to think about it and explore the area further. Sure, of course, he tells us. We start to wander on down the road and then pause to wonder what we're even questioning. We swiftly move back towards the office, pop in the door and say yes, we want!

Hurricane Schmurricane!

Ok, resurfacing here! So, of course there was this big to-do about Hurricane Sandy. Many people would say, "What about your flight? Is it still on? I hope the hurricane doesn't mess up your plans...". I wasn't even going to think about it until departure day - way too much else to worry about with packing! And... nope, no problem! Made it here to London safe and sound! Thank goodness I opted to fly out of Boston and not New York. Logan airport, Tuesday night flight, totally fine. Immigration stamp in my passport: Halloween, 2012. Success. I was even told that next time, since my husband is European and I've got my EEA Family Permit now, I can use the EU immigration queue. Fabulous. Only minor drama was the $270 in excess/overweight baggage fees, but I was prepared for it. Packing my luggage I knew there was no hope of actually coming in under the weight limit for some of my suitcases. I'm too high maintenance with too much *stuff*. These dreamy stories of "I arrived in [blah blah] country with a suitcase and some cash, and that's it!" - not this gal! This also gave me no choice but to wear my top hat around the airport and onto the plane. Simply no hope of actually packing it. Another amusing highlight of check-in was sending my alien through the x-ray machine at airport security. The TSA agents got a real kick out of that.  

 

So, flight was just fine. Collected my luggage and tried to heap as much as I could on the rather small luggage cart. Right, I'm in Europe now, guess I'll have to get used to smaller versions of things that I'm familiar with. Like ovens. But that's another rant for another day. I manage to heap three suitcases on top of the luggage cart, pushing that along with one hand, and pushing the smallest suitcase strapped to the largest suitcase with the other hand, with an achingly heavy duffel bag over my shoulder, and awkwardly hobble my way towards the "nothing to declare" exit, trying to prevent the inertia of the rolling masses, barely under my control, from running people over. As I emerge through the door, into my new homeland, I see my Dear Hubby waiting for me, and he immediately laughs in astonishment and asks my sweaty (because of course I'm wearing as many bulky coats as possible, and my top hat) disheveled self what on earth I've brought with me. And also asks me if I seriously expect that all of this baggage will actually fit in my cute new little red Mini that he had waiting for me. "Probably not?...".  So we herd all of my luggage out to the parking garage and upon seeing my car, I burst into fits of giggles and cannot contain myself upon seeing what Dear Hubby has done to my car!

Finding a guy who will 1) do that for you and 2) be willing to be seen driving said car to the airport to pick you up... now that, my friends, is love! I haven't yet tried driving my new Hello Kitty Mobile. That will be the next challenge. Kind of intimidated, but I kind of have to learn! Oh, and yes, amazingly enough, my ungodly amount of oversized luggage really and truly did fit into this cute little vehicle. I am highly impressed.