Amy’s posterous

We definitely felt like two birds leaving the nest: Portland felt like such a home for us.  Our apartment on Stark St, our friends, our families, our jobs and so, so many connections and memories.  It felt like we were turning our back on everything, but at the same time, it was so surreal that it seemed like we were just headed out on another trip to Europe for a couple weeks.  After two weeks, well, we still don't have a ticket home so it looks like we'll be here for a while! :)

We had a really early flight out of Portland to Los Angeles.  It was early but a short flight, so not really much of a chance to sleep.  Then we had an eight and a half hour layover in the small, remote terminal for Air New Zealand's international flights.  Nothing really to do and certainly not a lot of Amy-safe eating options.  Thank goodness for mom's peanut butter sandwiches!  Seriously though, she made me sandwiches, and they were the only thing that got me through.  The plane ride from LA to London was incredibly long.  It was hard to sleep since it wasn't really night time to us.  Max had the aisle seat and next to me, in the window seat, was an extremely petite Armenian woman dripping in Gucci and updating me regularly on how she was doing with her Millionaire spin-off game she was playing on the in-seat video screens.  

We landed barely worse for ware and decided our best route was to leave the two bike boxes at the luggage check (only 6.50 GBP each for 24 hours) and try to haul the rest with us to an address we had written down from Ryan and Alletta, apparently the address of some friends of theirs.  We got on the tube, rode all the way from the airport end of the line nearly to the opposite side of the city before our stop came up.  Then, because we would of course be disoriented after no sleep for over a day (it's 1 pm on Friday local time at this point after not sleeping since Wednesday night) so we turn the wrong way out of the tube station and walk over a mile before we realize our mistake.  We turn around, walk back past the station and it is only a matter of blocks to the apartment where we meet up with Ryan and Alletta's friends, previous housemates actually.  We drop off our backpacking packs, computer bags and guitar.  Change our very sweaty clothes, and then head out to grab food on our way back to the airport to pick up the bikes.

We are staying in Islington, a nice enough neighborhood in northern London, but one we hadn't been through on our visit before.  Walking around, it was only 4 in the afternoon, so not a lot of restaurants were open for dinner yet.  When we finally found one, we didn't care that they brought us the most expensive bottled water to drink or that we were barely able to keep our eyes open.  The food was probably run of the mill, but we were starving so it was excellent (a big thanks to Marie, Ric and Blaine for sponsoring our first Indian dinner in London!).

After cleaning our plates, we headed back to the airport and picked up the bike boxes.  It was an interesting process of carrying the boxes, together because they were too large and awkward to carry separately, on to the tube and then out of the station and down the street.  We obviously looked ridiculous, because we were stopped by an older, obviously drunk, Irishman on the steps of a local pub as we stopped at the intersection to rest our hands.  He wouldn't take no as an answer and then drug the boxes into the pub himself, forcing us to come get a drink with him.  We saddled up to the bar and were introduced to his friend, the woman working the bar and the manager.  They were obviously regulars.  He bought Max a cold Guiness and an orange juice for me (though he repeatedly expressed his disappointment that I wouldn't try to beer, regardless of my explaining what Celiac Disease was).  After lots of jokes, stories that were never finished, and some very warm welcomes to London, we headed on with the boxes to the apartment.

That was it.  We were here.  It was around 9 pm at that point and it had been a long journey.  We were going to be occupying the living room of the flat while we were staying here so it wasn't bed time yet.  Instead, we dove into apartment hunting and Khara (one of the actual residents of the flat) laid on us all the pointers and hints she could think of.  We set up some appointments and sent off lots of inquiries for the next day.  We were on our way!

The hunt for apartments was at least as difficult as we expected it to be.  Everything that is posted online, whether you are looking at an agency's site specifically or on an aggregator site, is already let by the time you call.  It's more of a ploy, really, just to get you to call the agency so they can then try to get all your information and convince you to schedule viewings for other places that you don't know anything about.  We also went into quite a few places in person to talk with letting representatives and get on their radar.  We arrived to our first viewing really early; so early in fact that we were able to text message the agent and cancel because the place was nothing like it was advertised and there was no way we could live in that neighborhood (dirty, sketchy, etc.).

After all Friday night, all day Saturday, and nearly all of Monday spent biking around from agency to agency, calling about postings, and some very disappointing viewings, we found IT: the exact flat we had imagined.  It was in a perfect location, on the corner of Camden St and Kentish Town Rd, just blocks from the overground train, the tube, and a bus stop at the corner out front; across the street from a small block park, and just two blocks from the grocery store.  Plus, it was the largest flat we'd seen!  Both bedrooms were at least the size of the living room in most flats, two bathrooms, all new fixtures, paint and furniture (we even got to say what we wanted!), and places to store the bikes.  From the bedroom window we look in Amy Winehouse's window, so we may even be featured in some B grade paparazzi shots!

We were absolutely thrilled to have it, but then we had two weeks of excruciating stress over banking issues.  Turns out we had timed our move perfectly for the banking crisis in the US, leaving it very difficult for us to get wire transfers or even any communication with our bank.  There were many twists and turns and even tears.  But, thanks to mom (once again! sandwiches and then money) we were able to get things sorted out enough that we could move in.  We are meeting with the landlords tomorrow at 11 to get the keys and sign the contract.  After that, well, will be at least one BIG trip to Ikea!

From last Monday through Thursday we had the fine opportunity to hang out with, bike a bit of the city with, and even get some private tours from our dear friends Ryan and Alletta.  They were on their way out though, moving back to the US after living in Scotland and London for two years while Alletta attended school after school to get degree after degree.  It was bittersweet: wonderful to be in the big city with friends, romping around, picnicking and swapping stories, but sad knowing it was our last chance to do that with them for what could be a long time.  It was a great time though!

We saw some of Regent's Park, Ryan's old 'office' (Cycle Surgery), some friends of theirs, old favorite cafes and bars, and got to hear about the little things we'd need to know: words that are different, spellings that drive you crazy, good streets to know for short cuts, and other such gems that only foreigners would think to tell other foreigners.

We were certainly sad to see them off, but are feeling ready to begin our adventure over here.

So much love to everyone!

Here's a picture of Max and I at the Candid Arts Trust cafe where we met with a friend and colleague of mine who had I never met in person, Laura Whitehead.