I Don't Know

After much discussion between Ange and I, we have selected a place to live. The process itself wasn't entirely straight forward. Unlike Canada, there are an unimagineable number of rental agencies here. The high street in Caversham is akin to 17th Ave in Calgary. However, imagine that instead of every second shop being a coffee shop of some sort, here it is a "letting agency" (or rental agency). Given how infrequently people look for places to live, it isn't entirely clear to me how they all manage to stay in business. There are no less than 10 different ones on our high street. That said, as we've been in the business of finding a place to live, it has been entirely convenient.

We've chosen a terraced, 2 bedroom house just off the high street. The finishings inside are really very nice. The place comes completely furnished, as the family moving out is going to Australia for a few years. It is a 5 minute walk to the school for Angela and is towards Reading, meaning toward the train station for when I start working.

The letting agency we're going through is Countrywide Residential Lettings. I fear they may make this blog again. I'm speaking with the agent yesterday to accept the place and I'm dithering on whether to sign a 6 month or year long lease. They charge 50 quid to renew at 6 months even though it requires nothing of them (less bewilderment at how they stay in businsess)... anyway, we establish that Ange is working at the moment and will be the primary 'credit' check, and she comments: "All you house husbands these days. I don't know..."

"I don't know..."

Hmmmmm. I don't know either. I don't know what you mean by that. And really, I should have asked what she meant.

Now, of course, all my British friends are rolling their eyes and wondering if I'm going to soon be barred from speaking to Countrywide. Last time we lived here, I was eventually banned from speaking with our letting agency, LD Property Management (many, many stories for another time). I can't imagine for one moment that anyone could be as incompetent, rude and awful as LD, so we should be okay. Also, it must be said that a transformation seems to have overtaken the customer service industry in Britain. All teasing aside, the service has been truly fantastic here... from mobile phones, to cars, to insurance companies, to letting agencies (single comment aside), to the bank, to the grocery stores. Or maybe this time around we're not so dirt poor that noone wants to have anything to do with us?

So, we should be moving by mid November into a pleasant little terraced house that has a shower and a washing machine. Do I care about anything else right now? Not really. The current situation of a bath and walking to the laundrette is gathering unpleasantness in my heart...