Glad it’s over – part 2

What happened before …

By half past eight, Christophe, the movers’ team leader, had returned with the mobile lift. While his colleague set it up under the balcony of my new first floor apartment, he started shoving my living room furniture through the front window. Outside it was collected by the two other men who carried it 50 metres up the road, where they deposited it on the loading platform of the lift. At the top of the lift, the forth man hauled all the stuff inside the new apartment by the large sliding glass doors.

In the meantime, I was running around, packing – what I thought being - the last cases. I was so busy that I hardly heard or saw my friend come in. It had taken him 90 minutes to cover a distance of less than 40 km, because of the road accident that had caused a gigantic traffic jam. I felt happy and relieved to see him and immediately put him to work removing the lighting fixtures in the kitchen and the living room.

Shortly before ten o’clock I walked over to the new apartment to see whether the guy who was unloading my stuff needed any instructions about where to put everything. I was followed by the two ‘exterior’ men who were carrying my mattress, which had been rolled up and firmly taped in the shape of a gigantic white sausage. They put it on the loading platform. While I was walking up the stairs, the lift slowly moved my mattress to a level about 4 metres above the ground. By the time I reached the first floor, the mattress was still sitting there, precariously balancing on the platform, for all to see.

My mattress, laundry basket, bookcase and other stuff on display for all to see.

I'm surprised nobody stopped thinking that it was a garage sale!

The mover who was supposed to unload it was nowhere to be seen. I decided to wait for him and ask him whether he needed any help. I waited, and waited, and waited … 15 minutes later I decided to return to the old apartment to find out what was keeping him. I found all four of the men once again snugly drinking coffee and eating sandwiches in the cabin of their truck. They were on their morning coffee break, which lasted … half an hour. All the time my mattress was wobbling 4 metres over the main road for all passers-by to see.

I tried to remain calm and returned to packing some more cases. It was well over half past ten when I decided it was time to move on. So I casually stepped outside, hands in pockets, and kindly asked: “Do you think the job will be finished by noon?” The four men looked at me, eyes wide open, until one of them beamingly smiled: “Of course, little lady. Don’t worry. Every thing will be fine.” Although I had the feeling that my question had annoyed them, it also had the positive effect of setting them back to work.

Half an hour later, Christophe came to find me in my former bathroom, where I was still … packing more cases. “Could you come over to the other side and please tell us where put your furniture. From that point on, everything went surprisingly fast. I stood in the middle of the living room giving instructions. It doesn’t happen very often that I have four (five, my friend included) men at my beg and call!

At half past eleven Christophe handed me the work order, stating that the work was finished. I signed it and 15 minutes later, the lift, the truck, the ‘no parking signs’ and the four men were gone … off to their next assignment.

More to come …

Glad it's over - part 1

For my recent move I hired four professional movers. According to the quote that I was given by their manager some time in January, they would arrive at my ‘old’ place at 7.15 p.m. fully equipped with the required mobile lift and a small van (for their own transport and containing some extra packing cases, in case I needed them). No big truck was needed as the distance between the old and new apartment is only 50 metres.

If you are on my mailing list, you are likely to see this image soon ...

Image: courtesy google images

Imagine my surprise when they arrived at 8.a.m. with two huge trucks and NO mobile lift. In spite of the ‘no parking' signs that had been put up in front of the old and the new apartment the day before, there were two cars blocking the way. One of the truck drivers managed to squeeze his truck between them, while the second stayed on the right lane of the main road, thus blocking the traffic that was driving towards the capital. The driver blew his horn several times; a very penetrating, shrill sound that was bound to wake up all those who were still asleep.

The team leader, a muscular, bald young man in his mid-thirties, came in and introduced himself as Christophe. He asked whether he could have a look around in order to estimate the volume of the stuff that needed to be moved. He also asked whether one of the cars blocking the parking space was mine. I said ‘no’, and added that I recognized one of the cars to be that of my future downstairs neighbour. The other car was unknown to me.

Christophe suggested that I’d ask my new neighbour to move his car, which I did. I had to ring the doorbell twice before the man showed up, still his dressing gown, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Not the best way to meet a new neighbour for the first time, I guess. But then again, the ‘no parking’ signs clearly indicated that no cars were allowed to park in that zone from 6 a.m. till 5 p.m.

By the time I got back to the ‘old’ apartment three movers were sitting in the truck eating their breakfast and drinking their morning coffee. When I informed C. that the ‘new’ apartment was located on the first floor, he looked genuinely surprised. “Then we need a mobile lift.” He said. I agreed and showed him the quote his employer had sent me, and which clearly indicated that they would supply the necessary lift at a cost of 90 euro for the full day.

So C. and one of his acolytes set out with one of the trucks, back to their depot to get the lift. I had hoped that the two other men would in the meantime start taking apart the wardrobe and the bed. But they did no such thing, and snugly sat in the warmth of the cabin of their truck, finishing their breakfast and coffee, while I stood around in the cold outside, waiting for the others to return.

At this point I congratulated myself on having chosen a moving company that has his depot at less than a kilometre from my home. Because less than half an hour later, C. and his partner returned with the lift and work could finally start. If the company had been located on the other side of Brussels, it would have taken them well over two hours to cover the distance both ways … Traffic in and out of the capital being sheer hell that time of day.

However, the delay made me wonder whether everything would be done by noon as planned. And to make things worse, my friend, who was on his way over to give me a hand and offer the badly needed moral support, was stuck in a traffic jam caused by a major road accident. So there I was, all on my own, wondering how I would live through this day!

More to come ...

Sunday lunch – in new surroundings

Today I'm cooking my first Sunday lunch in my new kitchen. Last Sunday was actually the first one I spent in my new home, but both my mother and I decided that we deserved a break after the stressful move. We therefore had lunch at our usual Italian restaurant, where we met up with my uncle and aunt. .They’re both almost ninety and live in a complex of service flats for senior citizens, which is located some 500 metres from my place. The restaurant is just halfway, which is handy for all.

We had a very nice lunch, enjoying the food, which was excellent, the wine and the company. The main conversation topic was … of course … my recent move.

But today it’s back to reality. As some of my pots and pans are still in packing cases, I decided to KISS = Keep It Simple and Stupid! Hence, I got a nice plump chicken from my butcher, some green beans, and organically grown potatoes. I rummaged through some of the boxes carrying the label ‘kitchen’ and after a while found my faithful chicken brick.

Sunday lunch ingredients.
Don't you just love the tiles? ... They look fabulous with my new red wall!

Yesterday I cleaned and parboiled the beans. I also soaked the chicken brick in water, where I let it sit overnight, so that it could gorge itself with H2O, the main ingredient to obtain a nice and juicy braised chicken. I also managed to locate my jar of mild paprika powder. So there should be no reason for the chicken to taste any different from what it used to taste in the old apartment!

The new stove takes a bit of getting used to … In fact; it’s a case of back to basics. I used to have a similar electric stove in my first apartment, where I lived from 1980 till 2001. In my former kitchen I had made a leap into the future and for ten years enjoyed cooking on a vitro-ceramic top. It’s so much easier to control the heat on these tops, as there is almost no residual heat.

My 'new' dining room, with the famous sideboard
and old dining table and chairs.

Oops ... I forgot to put out the bottle of wine!

But never mind. The advantage of the vitro-ceramic top could no longer weigh up against the ugly damp stain that has been haunting me for the last 18 months. I bet that that classic paprika chicken, baked potatoes and green beans with mayonnaise and a nice bottle of Côtes-du-Rhône will taste delicious in my new surroundings.

10,000 paces and a visit from the police

Health gurus advocate 10,000 paces per day to keep our body in shape. In normal circumstances I rarely live up to this recommendation. During the week I spent almost 10 hours driving to and from work and sitting at my desk trying to earn a decent living writing and translating texts. Maybe I reach the required standard during weekends when I do my shopping and regular housework.

Over the last two weeks (see my previous posts), however, I think I have done better than the average active person.

Apart from all the running around in and between my old and my new apartment, I also did a lot of shopping and took care of the tedious, yet unavoidable ‘red tape’ that is linked to moving house. On Monday morning I tackled the last remaining, yet most important issues.

Our village hall in the summer of 2010.

It started with a visit to the village hall, to inform the town clerk about the change of address. Usually there is a long queue of people waiting to be served. This time, however, the waiting room was empty. One of the lady clerks saw me coming in and immediately enquired “May I help you?” When I informed her that I wanted to report a change of address, she asked to see my identity card and copied the data into her computer. I gave her my new address and she checked whether there was somebody else living there. When she saw that the previous tenants had both passed away, she ‘cleared’ my request and handed me a form to sign.

I then asked her what the next steps were. Apparently the district policeman would come round to the apartment to check the verity of my statement. It would be a surprise visit to make sure that my move was a permanent one! I remembered this procedure from my last move in 2001. On that previous occasion I had informed the clerk that I was going on a vacation and that I therefore wouldn’t be available to provide the necessary ‘evidence’. At the time, that didn’t seem to be a problem. Having my name on the doorbell and the letterbox would be sufficient proof, I was told then.

This time things turned out to be slightly different, because last night at about 8 p.m., just when I was soaking my sore feet – after at least 50,000 daily paces – in a small basin filled with foamy, luke-warm water, someone rang the doorbell twice. I quickly dried my feet and rushed to the speakerphone. “Yes, hallo, who is it?” I enquired. “It’s your local policeman to check the authenticity of your recent move. A few seconds later a very, very young ‘cop’ in a smart blue uniform arrived on my doorstep. To show that he was there on very serious and official business, he sternly asked to see my identity card. He compared it with the data on the form that he was carrying. This took about 10 seconds. Then, and without even looking me in the eye, he handed the card back and mumbled “Okay. You’ll presently receive an invitation from the village hall to present your identity card (with electronic chip) to make the necessary changes. Good night.” And off he went!

I closed and locked the door behind him and slightly annoyed returned to my basin with fragrant foamy water … What a way to end the day!

As soon as the electronic data on my identity will have been changed, I can officially declare the address change to my bank, the police (for my driver’s license), and all the other official authorities, except the tax man … he’ll automatically know where to find me!

The Move - step by step

Today I'm doing a short post that's mainly made up of photos. The story of the move is still decanting in my head and I think that I will have to split it up in several posts, as there is so much to tell ...

Let's start with a shot of the 'old'  livingroom on the eve of the move:

The 'old' livingroom during the move:

 Notice the awful damp stain ...

Part of the new livingroom, without damp stain,
but WITH new curtains, carpet and armchairs.

Curious to know what you think of it?!
I love it and it really feels like home.

I'm back!

Although I've never been really away, it feels good to be able to tell you that I'm back online. The move was a big adventure, but it's all too recent and eventful to tell you everything in detail.

So this is just a short post to tell you that I'm allright ... exhausted, but allright. My internet connection was re-installed last Friday afternoon, but it was and has been very unstable ever since. Moreover, my digital TV connection didn't function and I have been without TV until this morning.

This afternoon a skilled Belgacom engineer came over to put everything straight, and now life is almost has it has always been ... except that I still have a lot of unpacking to do.

That's all for today. Thank you all for your kind and encouraging comments on my last post. I really, really, really appreciate your concern. I'll be back later this week with a detailed report and some photos!

Almost packed and ready to go

I admit I haven't been very 'present' these last few days. But with my upcoming move - less than 24 hours to go - and busy days at the office, I just couldn't muster the courage to write a blog post.

However, today I'm having the day off - courtesy of my employer for people who move (mind you, only once a year!) to pack the last boxes. Inspite of all my efforts and the help of friends and family, I have a feeling that by tonight, there will still be a lot of items that are not packed. I'm not panicking yet, as my cleaning lady is coming over this afternoon to give me a hand. But nevertheless, there still is an awful lot of stuff that needs my attention.

I wouldn't leave without my orchids, of course!
So they are already neatly packed in their own 'private' moving box.

About an hour ago the movers came to put up the 'no parking' signs. I just hope the neighbours will respect them, as most of them tend to park their cars overnight in front of my current and new apartment. By the time the movers arrive - 7 a.m.!! - most of them are still in bed. So there is a fair chance that some of the cars will be blocking the space the movers need to put up the mobile lift. Let's keep our fingers crossed.

I'll probably be off-line for several days, as my internet provider needs to transfer my telephone and internet connection. But I promise that I will be back as soon as possible with news and photos of the move and the new apartment. So keep checking in from time to time ... if you're interested, of course!

See you soon!

With a little help from my friends

Saturday was another busy and productive day. My colleague F. came over in the afternoon to help me pack the content of my kitchen cabinets. I have known F. for three years now, when the company I had been working with since 1996 was ‘taken over’ by my current employer.

I learned about the ‘take-over’ on June 13th, 2006 while being on vacation in the Loire Valley. It was a Wednesday, and my friend and I had just returned from another interesting day of castle-hopping. It was about half past five when we arrived at the reception desk of our hotel to collect our key and the girl at reception told me that they had received a fax that was addressed to me. I really wondered and worried who it could be from. My mother has the number of my mobile phone and would have called me in case of an emergency.

When the girl handed me the fax form I immediately recognized our company logo. What could this be about? My friend was chatting with one of waiters of the bar while I opened and read the fax. It was from colleague of mine to whom I had mentioned the name of our hotel. It read that our company had been ‘taken-over’ by one of our main competitors. As the competitor is very BIG in France, she was afraid that I would learn the news in the papers the next day. And she wanted to warn me, so that I wouldn’t be too shocked.

After reading the fax message I burst into tears and my friend immediately rushed over to me to find out what was wrong. I told him what had happened, adding that I was very upset with my colleague for spoiling my vacation. We went up our room and I called the colleague in question to get more information. I will spare you the details, but after that phone call I was really grateful to her for having taken the trouble to send me the fax.

Indeed, the next morning, at breakfast, the take-over was THE headline in Le Figaro, one of France’s leading newspapers. I’m sure I would have choked in my croissant if I had learned about the news in the paper!

That Thursday all I seemed to notice was the logo of my new employer. It is very prominently present in every self-respecting French village and there is just no way of overlooking it!

About a year later, On May 1st, 2007 my department moved to the headquarters of our new employer. And that is when and where I met F. At first we didn’t seem to have that much in common, but over the years we have become friends. Two weeks ago she volunteered to come and give me a hand with my move. She arrived at half past two yesterday afternoon, and I first took her to the new apartment to have a look at the work that has been done. Then we started packing the content of my kitchen cabinets. In the process we chatted and gossiped a lot – that’s what women do – about the antics of certain other colleagues, and in general had a really good time.

The pile of boxes is getting bigger ...

We took a little break at half past five and had a cup of coffee and ‘un petit gâteau’ that I had bought at our local gourmet bakery. We continued for another hour and half and managed to pack a total of five boxes. That doesn’t seem a lot, but packing crystal glasses and fine china requires a lot of careful attention and time.

At half past seven I invited F. to a nearby Chinese restaurant for a light supper. Although we only had a main course, we managed to be the last to leave the restaurant at half past eleven! We had a great time chatting about the past, the present and the future. All in all a very productive, satisfying and pleasant afternoon and evening.

A productive day

Looking back at the to-do-list I made on Thursday, I'm happy to say that we managed to do everything. Well, almost - the dry-cleaner being on vacation. The shop was closed and it was quite frustrating to see my bedroom curtains - nicely cleaned and ironed, hanging in the shop window, without having access to them. I guess the dry cleaner is somewhere skiing or basking in the sun on Lanzarote or Tenerife!

However, I did pick up my new living room curtains (they look even better than I remembered!) and my new armchairs. The latter came in two very large cardboard cases, which the shopkeeper had to remove to make the chairs fit in the back of my friend's car. We left the protective plastic sheet, though. They are temporarlly stocked in my current bedroom. Next Friday, the movers will use the mobile lift that they are bringing to take them up to the new first floor apartment.

One of my new armchairs in its protective plastic and temporary storage!

The employee at the wood shop was very cooperative and accepted to take the surplus floor boards back and to give me a refund. We also dropped in at the mover's office to pick up ten extra packing cases. By noon most of our chores were done, except for the weekly shopping and I therefore invited my friend to a nearby Italian restaurant where I had a delicious Saltimbocca and he enjoyed a Sole Meunière. We had half a litre of Bardolino with it.

In the afternoon we went to the supermarket and had a drink at our local 'bar'. Back home, we got the original packing cases of my desktop computer out of the cellar and dismantled and packed the computer, keyboard, monitor and printer. I somehow have a feeling that all these devices - except for the printer/scanner/copier - will end up in my new cellar. My laplop being so much more userfriendly.

Now I'm waiting for my colleague to arrive to help me pack the content of my kitchen cabinets. She said she would be here by 2 p.m. which leaves me just enough time to fix myself a snack. I've promised to take her to a restaurant tonight - Italian or Chinese, whatever she prefers - to thank her for her precious help.

Only six more days to go ...

Busy day ahead

Today, during lunch break, I made a list of all the things I have to do tomorrow ...

Here goes:

- pick up my new armchairs at the furniture store
- pick up my new living room curtains
- collect some extra moving boxes at the movers' office
- pick up my bedroom curtains from the dry cleaner's
- donate more books to our local library
- return the wooden floor boards that I had in excess to the supplier (and hoping that I will get my money back!)
- do my weekly shopping
- cook lunch for my friend ... or maybe get a take-away pizza
- ... and dream about this peaceful spot in the Loire Valley ...

May 2010: the confluent of the Loire and the Vienne in Candes St. Martin

One more week to go ... before the Big Move!

Staying in touch with the world

One of my biggest worries regarding my upcoming move is the transfer of my telephone, internet and digital TV connection. They all come with the same provider, Belgacom, Belgium’s national ‘communication’ company. Although telephones and telegraphs were introduced in Belgium in 1879 there was no legal framework or institution to control it. We had to wait till 1896 before a government controlled company was founded to oversee the activities. During World War I the complete infrastructure was dismantled. In 1930 a new company going by the unimaginative name of RTT – Regie voor Telefonie en Telegrafie – was created.

In 1987 the name changed into Belgacom and in 2004 the company went public. 50% + 1 share, however, still remain in the hands of the government. Over the years mobile telephone, internet and recently (2005) digital internet are part of the services supplied by Belgacom. They’ve also lost their monopoly, their main competitors in Flanders being Telenet, Mobistar and Base (the latter in France a.k.a. Orange).

In spite of the fierce competition I’ve always been a loyal Belgacom client. And being a loyal client has its advantages. Thanks to my telephone, internet and mobile phone connection I’m entitled to free digital TV, with over 80 (inter)national channels. I switched to Belgacom digital TV in November 2009 and have been enjoying it since … although it took a bit getting used to.

The transfer of all the equipment requires the intervention of a Belgacom engineer. The standard telephone wall unit in the new apartment is unfit to receive the special plug that directs the signal to the telephone, the modem and the decoder. The last time I had a Belgacom engineer in to set up the digital TV connection it took a lot of fiddling and stressful testing before all the devices did what they are supposed to do.

A few weeks ago I put in a request to have the plug in the new apartment changed and my existing telephone line and number transferred. Some days later I received a letter announcing that the engineer would come to the apartment on March 15th, sometime between 1.30 and 5 p.m. I immediately called them to reschedule the intervention to March 18th, in the afternoon. That way all the infernal devices will be where they are supposed to be and it will be easier to test them straight away.

And then, this morning, when I thought that I had it all beautifully under control, a Belgacom employee called me to announce the arrival of the engineer on … March 15th!! Don’t these people talk to each other?! When I told him that the rendezvous had been rescheduled, he checked his computer and confirmed that the transfer would take place on the 18th!

Now why do I have a feeling that, despite my careful planning, there is a fair chance that I will be offline for a couple of days?

A little gadget that can make a world of difference!

But don’t worry. I have a back-up system: a USB stick that I can use to establish a mobile internet connection without needing a modem. I’ve never tried it and have been told that it can be terribly slow and unstable, but I’m certainly going to give it a try in case my Belgacom engineer lets me down! Do you have any experience with these USB sticks and mobile internet?

Red tape

Moving not only involves a lot a practical – physical preparation. It also includes a lot of red tape. Thank heavens we have internet nowadays!

Ten years ago, when I moved into my soon-to-be-former apartment, having your address changed for everyday issues such as gas, electricity, telephone, mail, identity card, driver’s license, social security, taxes (although the tax man always manages to find you – however much trouble you take to go incognito!) - took a lot of running around, wasting time in waiting rooms, filling out forms, etc.

Today things are a lot easier. But it still takes a considerable amount of careful thinking and planning. A few weeks ago I picked up a form at the post office, which, once I’ve filled it out and paid 20 euro, guarantees that my mail will be forwarded to my new address for the next four months.

I also need to have my telephone line, internet connection and digital television transferred to the new address. I filled out a request form on the provider’s website and was sent a letter with a transfer date. It didn’t suit me, though, and so I needed to call them to agree on a new date. At first it was March 11th, some time between 1.30 p.m. and 5 p.m. In itself that wasn’t a problem as I no longer work on Fridays. However, 3.5 hours is an awful long time to wait in an empty apartment! Because, you can safely bet that you’re always the last on the technician’s list of the day.

I called this morning and had the transfer rescheduled to Friday, 18th between 1.30 p.m. and 5 p.m. The movers should have finished by then, and I can comfortable wait while I start unpacking my moving boxes.

Electricity and gas shouldn’t be a problem. All you do is log in to their website, put in the old and new address and the figures on the meters. You do this on the last day of your occupancy of the old apartment. In my case that will be March 31st. So I have ample time to take care of that.

There was one new element this time: garbage collection. In the past we used to have plastic bags which you had to buy at the fairly steep price at the village hall. Since May last year we have sturdy plastic 120 litre containers, the content of which is collected every fortnight. The containers have a bar code that is linked to a money account into which you have to transfer money as soon as your credit drops under 10 euro. When your container is loaded onto the garbage truck, the bar code is automatically read while your container is being weighed. Every pick-up costs 1 euro + a certain amount per kilo of garbage in the container.

The more garbage you produce, the more you pay. Which in itself is fair, but also rather expensive when you live in an apartment and haven’t a garden to compost perishable natural product.

What’s most peculiar about the whole system, however, is that the container comes with the apartment. This means that you just can’t pick up your container – or rather roll it – to your new place. No, you have to leave it behind for the next owner or tenant and use the container which comes with your new home. This means that the bar code of this new container has to linked to your personal money account. Sometimes, if your new home doesn’t have a container, you have to order one. Luckily you don’t have to pick it up yourself at the local depot, the container being rather bulky and difficult to transport. No, a few days after you’ve put in your request – using the adequate internet form – a little man with a van will deposit your personalized container on your doorstep.

In my case, the new apartment comes with a 120 litre container. So all I had to do was to have my account linked to it. A simple phone call was all it took. I can use my current container till March 15th. From that day forward I will have to use the new one! Fascinating, isn’t it?

P.S. Can you think of other suppliers to add to my ‘to call’ list?

Proudly presenting …

… my new kitchen unit !

Last Friday morning, the decorator put up the last bits of wallpaper in the bedroom. The job should have been done by Thursday night, but there was a bit of a problem with the paper for the main wall. There was a flaw in the design and the decorator returned it and ordered a new roll in order to get it completely right.

With its dark top, it beautifully stands out against my red wall!

In the afternoon, two men came in to install the kitchen unit I had ordered in the beginning of January. It took a lot a sawing and drilling, and I’m not sure my new neighbours appreciated the noise. But then again, it was during the daytime and only lasted an hour or so.

I love the new colour scheme. The kitchen is fabulous, the bedroom very cosy – especially with the new wooden floor, and the livingroom is very trendy indeed. Maybe not everybody’s cup of tea, but I like it. And that’s what counts, isn't it?

Twelve more days to go!

After the red ...

... the blue!

The living room:

Monday morning

Wednesday afternoon

I'm only having this one wall done in blue (turquoise).
The other walls keep their original colour.

When I went over to the apartment this afternoon after getting home from the office, the decorator was cleaning up. The job isn't completely finished though, as there was a quality problem with part of the bedroom paper. He'll be back tomorrow morning with a new roll to put up the last pieces ... More photos to come ...

Before ...

The decorators, who started work on Monday, have made excellent progress. If all goes well, the job should be done by tomorrow. The result is stunning ... But then, of course, it's all a matter of taste. How about a sneak preview?

Let's start with the kitchen ...

Before ...

And how would you like to cook gourmet food in this new kitchen?

After!

I feel a cooking spree coming on ... No wait, still 16 days to go!

Work in progress

For the last couple of days I find it hard to think about anything else than my upcoming move. Everything else seems so trivial right now. I hardly take the time to cook a decent meal – which is quite unusual for me as cooking has always been a favourite hobby of mine. Last Sunday I even invited my mother to a nearby Chinese restaurant instead of cooking one of my traditional Sunday lunches. As she fully understands my current preoccupation and because she really likes the fish beignets with sweet and sour sauce, which are one of the restaurants specialties, she didn’t object.

We didn’t splash out, but simply had an aperitif – a good old fashion Martini Bianco on the rocks for me and a Pinot de Charentes for my mum – and a main course. I had egg noodles with shredded chicken. We shared a bottle of Mateus, a slightly and naturally sparkling rosé wine from Portugal. I personally think that rosé wines and Chinese food work very well together. It was a very nice lunch. Light yet very tasteful. We also ran into some neighbours – a woman my age and her widowed father – and chatted with them for a while. All in all, it was very pleasant experience that for a while took my mind off the upcoming events.

Monday, February 28th - the living room with one wall already stripped.

But on Monday, it was back to realty. The decorator arrived around lunchtime and started stripping the old wallpaper in my new apartment. He works with is son, who is in his early thirties and who’s very handy when it comes to all things electrical. When they left at quarter past four, all the walls that need redecorating had been stripped and the ugly vinyl floor in the bedroom had been removed. Today they will be putting up the new wallpaper. I guess they’ll start in the kitchen as my kitchen unit is scheduled to arrive on Friday. So maybe tomorrow I will be able to post a photo of my brand new ‘red’ kitchen! Can’t wait to see the result! I hope I won’t be disappointed.

As for my new landlord, he has put in some temporary light sockets as the former tenant’s family has taken out most of the light fixtures. He’s also repainting the bathroom ceiling and the exterior window frames.

So, everything seems to be coming together nicely. 17 more days to go!