Move along, please. Nothing to see here.


It’s only a thought and not at all definite but ……………..

We went to see a flat last night. F had already seen it whilst I was at The Visit and was taken enough with it that he arranged for us to see it together, after work.

Of course, now that the clocks have gone forward, it is light when I get home and so possible to see things straight away rather than waiting until Saturday. It’s not far from the “Perfect street”, so very close to where I live now. The street is much quieter. The flat is much larger than our two flats together. The rooms are huge (well, not the kitchen but still big enough to fit a table) and there is the room for me to shut myself away (if we fit some doors to it – for some reason, apart from one bedroom, the bathrooms and the kitchen, doors have been removed!)

It needs us to fit a kitchen (a fairly normal thing here). We could find some old doors to put on my “studio”. It’s lovely and big and very light (F’s requirement) and has four balconies of various sizes (from quite small to quite large) – meaning plenty of spaces for the dogs.

It’s in a 1930s building – not the best I’ve seen but still nicer than something new. There’s a doorman/woman until 6.30 every evening (which means I don’t have to wait for parcels until Saturday) and, it will be cheaper than our two flats.

There’s just one thing – it’s on the 4th floor. The 4th floor is OK (it’s at the top of the trees in the road which is why it’s quite light) but it’s also a long way down when you look over the edge of the balconies.

Anyway, we’ve discussed pricing and offers and stuff and now F will do his stuff.

Oh, and it has another advantage – 3 months’ deposit but only 1 month’s rent in advance and then pay monthly – which does make everything much, much easier.

And, so we’ll see. But don’t say anything, just in case, eh?

The Visit

It was like attending a very important job interview.

My hands were sweating and it was difficult to concentrate on anything much.

I arrived at least 10 minutes early, as you do. At first, the receptionist thought that I was trying to make an appointment but when she gave me some date in the future, I realised. I couldn’t even really understand her – my little Italian had deserted me somewhere in my mashed-up brain.

The seats in the waiting room were the usual plastic chairs, arranged around the walls, a single coffee table in the centre of the room with some reading stuff which I didn’t read. The receptionist informed me that she wasn’t here yet. Hmmm.

I tried to play a game on my phone but I just couldn’t concentrate. About on time, she arrived and I was told to go in.

Of course, on principle, I don’t ask “permesso”, since I had made the appointment and so she was expecting me and had been informed that I was there and had already asked the receptionist to show me through. So, why ask permission to enter? It never makes any sense to me. By all means, do it if you are not expected or have not been invited or have not already let someone in to your building (so you know they’re there.)

Anyway, she was really nice. Asking me questions that, most of the time, I didn’t know the answer to or had some idea but couldn’t be sure. But that was fine.

Then I asked my questions and, more or less everything was OK. I only asked about 3 questions, so not too harrowing for me.

However, as expected, there are more visits to come. Which is a pain.

And I was in a bit of pain but I didn’t let it show. I “did my back in a bit” when brushing Piero on Sunday. My own fault. Still, I didn’t want her to see I was in pain.

And, so, on to the next visit!

And I survived, which is good :-)