A day to remember - part 2

If you've missed part 1, click here.

From July till November 2010 I visited five apartments. None of them felt like home and so I waited, hoping for a miracle, which could either be a successful leak detection or a nice apartment nearby. In the second half of November I learned of the death of a lady who had been living in an apartment on the first floor in a complex 50 metres up the road. Although the news upset me – I used to know the deceased rather well – this turned out to be the miracle I had been waiting for. Sorry if this shocks you.

A nice decorative piece handmade by my 'English mum's' daughter Teresa, whom I visited this summer, after not seeing each other since 1984. The stars are a reflection of the candle behind the hand-painted glass disk. This unique piece of art occupies a prominent place on my new sideboard.

On the eve of the lady’s funeral, a ‘to let’ sign appeared on the kitchen window of her former apartment. I immediately called the real estate agent’s number and scheduled an appointment for Monday night. One visit was all it took for me to know that this was the right place for me. The monthly rent was reasonable. The apartment was in spic-span condition and the location was perfect.

On Monday, December 13th, 2010 at twenty to six in the evening, I set out for my all important meeting with the real estate agent and my new landlord and –lady. It was a dark and cold night and I had some trouble finding the villa where the agent had his office. It was located in a narrow side street, in the middle of the fields, where it was hardly visible from the road.

My new landlord and –lady turned out to be very nice people. When I asked them whether I could install a dishwasher in the kitchen – at my expense – they immediately suggested they’d take care of it themselves … and they did. When I asked whether I could replace the old vinyl floor in the main bedroom by a nice wooden floor, they didn’t object and arranged for an identical floor to be laid in the second bedroom.

By the time that the contract had been read and signed it was snowing outside. Not much, but just enough to create that ‘Christmassy’ feeling. I drove home, slowly, not taking any risks. And I felt profoundly happy, because finally my worries were over … Well almost, because the ‘big move’ would only take place on March, 18th. I spent the three remaining months shopping for new furniture, curtains, wall paper, etc. Sheer bliss!

While I was happily spending money, a new leak detection took place in my then soon-to-be-former apartment. This time the janitor claimed that the cause had been found, and she tauntingly said: “Now that we’ve found the leak, you’ll probably regret your decision to move. Maybe you should have had some more patience!” I didn’t let it bother me though, as the so-called solution didn’t make any sense.

And I was proven right, because a few months after I had moved out, repair work was done to stop the water seeping into the ceiling and the wall. All in vain, because nothing has changed since then. Recently I ran into my former first floor neighbour (who also has water damage) and asked him about the situation. He said that since the recent technical intervention, the situation has become worse, indicating that the real cause of the leak still hasn’t been found ...