After two weeks of flat-out flat searching, little sleep, and too much stress, I have finally found my next place of abode, moving in tomorrow – which I hope will be the last time I have to move in a very very very long time.
I have seen a lot of either dodgy people in great flats or great people in dodgy flats. In the end, I settled for a small room in a large flat with a large lounge and kitchen, with two normal-seeming people.
The thing is, if I’d gone out looking for flats straight off my plane from Hong Kong, I would’ve taken anything I saw. Space is such a premium in Hong Kong, anything here would look massive and so much bigger than any person in their 20s could afford back home.
But hanging out in Nasty’s place, and having been around his family home and other people’s flats and houses have raised my expectations and what I perceive to be acceptable. Over time, I have come to imagine that, for my “permanent” place, I will be in a beautifully restored Victorian house with plush cream carpeting, brand new fittings, a big lounge and so-soft-you-could-drown-in-them sofas.
Thus created this big discrepancy between what I want and what I am prepared to pay. Together with my need to be near my commute to work and be a reasonable distance from Nasty, I left myself with little choices.
So now, I’ll be in a large but worn-out flat in an ugly housing estate, but in London Zone 1 (centre of town), walking distance to a tube station, walking distance to good hangouts. Can’t have it all right?
And hey, with internet access (believe me, this is not easy to find), I will be leaving my month of living in the technological past behind, and coming back to the future. Perhaps, I should even host a Back to the Future-themed flat-warming party!
Oh wait, I forgot. I don’t have any friends.