Oh dear, I've had a friend tell me she is looking forward to this next installment. I'll have to think of something exciting to jazz it up with. I wouldn't want to let either of my readers down, here.
I believe the saga ended with Trevor and I walking down a street in east London. We'd gone into two estate agencies, been rebuffed, and were headed back to the tube station, when we passed another estate agency. It was one I hadn't really heard of, probably because they don't leave their old listings up on Rightmove forever. Trevor suggested we stop in, so we did.
The agent we met with didn't seem to mind that we had American accents and no UK bank account open yet. He had a couple of flats that he thought might be a fit for us and one of them he'd already arranged with the tenants to show to someone else that evening, and we could go along to the viewing (something that is also quite foreign to me. I'm used to the American convention of only viewing real estate when the inhabitants aren't in.) He told us he'd show us that one and another one that was unoccupied afterwards.
We went away, fed our son, wandered around, and then returned to find the other flathunter at the estate agents' explaining that she didn't want to view the flat that the appointment had been set up for. She wanted to see another one. Lucky for the estate agent and for us, we just took her appointment, looked at the flat and one other, and then headed down south again to our friends' house.
I won't bore you with the rest of our flathunting adventures. I'm sure this is boring enough already. Suffice it to say, there were other flats and we looked at them, and as we looked at them, we kept thinking we really should just put down an offer on that first flat. By this time, we'd reduced the maximum rent we wanted to pay still more, because it was cold and we were actually here, in the UK, with still no idea of what our budget would run.
Long story short, we called that estate agent and put in an offer on that flat, and that is where we are living now. It's small, a one bedroom, but it's in an excellent location right by a tube station and is near a park, where our son can run around and wear himself out.
We absolutely love east London, which lives up to its reputation as the region where a lot of new immigrants from the subcontinent, Africa, and the Carribean live. Given that a major motivator for coming to the UK was the Indian food, this is ideal.
Next time I'll ramble on about my jewelry making :-)