There are people who love looking at apartments.They look
longingly at real estate websites and Craigslist at available apartments. They
bookmark their favourites -- or pin them to Pinterest or whatever the kids are doing these days. They click
through the photos, pausing to imagine themselves in the apartment, with their
furniture, throwing their housewarming.
I am not one of those people. I don’t like shopping, not for
shoes, not for pants, not for Ikea furniture, and definitely not for apartments.
This is why, despite very few hiccups, my Budapest apartment search was
such a blessing. I talked to a real estate agent, who
sent a pdf of available apartments, and then we found one. I paid the rent,
some of which likely included a management fee since the landlords lived in
Hong Kong, and maybe a commission, and everyone was happy.
In Germany, an apartment hunt feels like a Camus novel. The
absurdities that people accept as the norm defies the imagination.
Let's say you find a flat through a real estate agent, you pay a
commission up front, which can be several month’s rent. All those appliances that
are usually included in a flat? Not in Germany. You buy those up front or bring
your own. Throw in the deposit, you’re likely coughing up several thousand
euros for the privilege of renting a flat.
If you're a normal person, like me, with a normal job and a normal paycheque, there is cause to pause. If you don't have a briefcase of cash laying about, the recourse is trying to reach normal people renting out their domicile without the aid of a real estate agent.
Also not easy, for several reasons.
For example, let's say you're going on a two-week vacation. You would usually call a friend, ask them to drop by the apartment, feed the fish, and ensure the place doesn't get robbed. In Germany, or at least the Dorf, if you go away on vacation, you try to rent it out to complete strangers for those two weeks.
Now, yes, that clogged up my search results when I was looking online and made it the hunt a little more difficult. I'm not going to dwell on that. But let's think about inviting strangers to your home for two weeks while you're in far away in another country. They're sleeping in your bed, stacking your plates and bowls the wrong freaking way in the cupboards, and clogging your shower drain with their hair.
I'm digressing, but, anyway, this phenomenon seems to be common.
While I attempted to search for a place to live in the Dorf, I landed into the cheapest airbnb I could find and lived with a few foreign students for a month.I wish I had stories to tell about cultures meeting in a faraway place, but it was pretty boring. Everyone came in the front door, went straight into their room, and didn't come out unless they had to eat in the kitchen or clog up the renter's shower drain with their hair.
While Kata was preparing to move to the city from Berlin, I had to waded through the apartment sites. Ignoring countless ultra-short-term leases, avoiding scams on airbnb, and, mostly, sending out a lot of emails and leaving a lot of voicemails with little to show for it.
What I finally ended finding was less than ideal. The girl who showed me the place was hoping to hand off her lease. She didn't say why, and I didn't ask, but I assumed it was because the flat was a renovated office in the Altsadt (the party part of town). I should have asked if the roommate, who I hadn't meet yet, was crazy.
With few other options in such a short period of time, we took. Kata and I moved in and we got to experience the loudness of the Altstadt on our first night there. It was essentially a street party down the street from us.
We also got to meet our roommate, who was a shut-in that spoke little English and was a little crazy. We found out later, he was a lot crazy. More on that after I describe the apartment a little more.
Like I mentioned, the apartment used to be an office and was renovated to be a flat. Well, kind of renovated. The office/flat was equipped with fluorescent lights, power outlets situated at waist-height, a bathroom with only a sink, another bathroom with only a shower, a living room that was actually a hallway, a kitchen with no windows, a– well, you get the point. It was far from ideal. Luckily, I had only agreed to a three-month term, no Forever Lease.
Back to the crazy roommate. This guy was nice and was more weird than crazy. Kata worked from home, so he would be doing his stuff and humming and singing to himself. When I came into the flat, he would scurry into his room like a squirrel.
Harmless stuff.
Then, one night, he started drinking and didn't stop drinking in his room. After two days, the kitchen counter was lined with empty wine bottles. Once, in the middle of the night, he went running to his bathroom (this one had a sink and a toilet, no shower) probably wanting to puke and screamed, like blood-curdling. I went running to see if he was alright, but he shut the door.
Oh, yeah, we were sort of spared some of this awkwardness because we lived on one end of the flat with our own bathroom and bedroom and a spare room that served as Kata's office. We also had a French roommate who shared a bathroom with crazy German dude (I always forgot his name, it started with a G).
On my way to leave for work, I saw him in the kitchen and asked if he was alright. He said he was fine. While I was away that day, he came up behind Kata and said he needed help. Startled, she told him to call someone.
Then the guy disappeared. So did the French girl. Both gone without a word. Did they run away together? Is he dead in a ditch? Is he alive? Is she alive?
Kata messaged the french girl and got proof of life. The guy returned, feeling better, apparently.
It was time to go.
This time, the search was a little easier. A friend from work was leaving the Dorf and offered his big room to Kata and I. That is where I am writing this now. In a real flat, not a renovated office, with a nice roommate, not a crazy one who sneaks up on my girlfriend, in a neighbourhood that knows few parties (although we are facing a busy street, but I'm not complaining).
It took a lousy living situation to remember that I had a great living situation in Budapest. It was not perfect there, but it isn't perfect anywhere. There are degrees of perfection. Budapest was high up there, but are current living situation is a really good one too.
Kata mentioned the other day the new place feels like a real home. That's all that you can ask for, and it's all you really need.
Also not easy, for several reasons.
For example, let's say you're going on a two-week vacation. You would usually call a friend, ask them to drop by the apartment, feed the fish, and ensure the place doesn't get robbed. In Germany, or at least the Dorf, if you go away on vacation, you try to rent it out to complete strangers for those two weeks.
Now, yes, that clogged up my search results when I was looking online and made it the hunt a little more difficult. I'm not going to dwell on that. But let's think about inviting strangers to your home for two weeks while you're in far away in another country. They're sleeping in your bed, stacking your plates and bowls the wrong freaking way in the cupboards, and clogging your shower drain with their hair.
I'm digressing, but, anyway, this phenomenon seems to be common.
While I attempted to search for a place to live in the Dorf, I landed into the cheapest airbnb I could find and lived with a few foreign students for a month.I wish I had stories to tell about cultures meeting in a faraway place, but it was pretty boring. Everyone came in the front door, went straight into their room, and didn't come out unless they had to eat in the kitchen or clog up the renter's shower drain with their hair.
While Kata was preparing to move to the city from Berlin, I had to waded through the apartment sites. Ignoring countless ultra-short-term leases, avoiding scams on airbnb, and, mostly, sending out a lot of emails and leaving a lot of voicemails with little to show for it.
What I finally ended finding was less than ideal. The girl who showed me the place was hoping to hand off her lease. She didn't say why, and I didn't ask, but I assumed it was because the flat was a renovated office in the Altsadt (the party part of town). I should have asked if the roommate, who I hadn't meet yet, was crazy.
With few other options in such a short period of time, we took. Kata and I moved in and we got to experience the loudness of the Altstadt on our first night there. It was essentially a street party down the street from us.
We also got to meet our roommate, who was a shut-in that spoke little English and was a little crazy. We found out later, he was a lot crazy. More on that after I describe the apartment a little more.
Like I mentioned, the apartment used to be an office and was renovated to be a flat. Well, kind of renovated. The office/flat was equipped with fluorescent lights, power outlets situated at waist-height, a bathroom with only a sink, another bathroom with only a shower, a living room that was actually a hallway, a kitchen with no windows, a– well, you get the point. It was far from ideal. Luckily, I had only agreed to a three-month term, no Forever Lease.
Back to the crazy roommate. This guy was nice and was more weird than crazy. Kata worked from home, so he would be doing his stuff and humming and singing to himself. When I came into the flat, he would scurry into his room like a squirrel.
Harmless stuff.
Then, one night, he started drinking and didn't stop drinking in his room. After two days, the kitchen counter was lined with empty wine bottles. Once, in the middle of the night, he went running to his bathroom (this one had a sink and a toilet, no shower) probably wanting to puke and screamed, like blood-curdling. I went running to see if he was alright, but he shut the door.
Oh, yeah, we were sort of spared some of this awkwardness because we lived on one end of the flat with our own bathroom and bedroom and a spare room that served as Kata's office. We also had a French roommate who shared a bathroom with crazy German dude (I always forgot his name, it started with a G).
On my way to leave for work, I saw him in the kitchen and asked if he was alright. He said he was fine. While I was away that day, he came up behind Kata and said he needed help. Startled, she told him to call someone.
Then the guy disappeared. So did the French girl. Both gone without a word. Did they run away together? Is he dead in a ditch? Is he alive? Is she alive?
Kata messaged the french girl and got proof of life. The guy returned, feeling better, apparently.
It was time to go.
This time, the search was a little easier. A friend from work was leaving the Dorf and offered his big room to Kata and I. That is where I am writing this now. In a real flat, not a renovated office, with a nice roommate, not a crazy one who sneaks up on my girlfriend, in a neighbourhood that knows few parties (although we are facing a busy street, but I'm not complaining).
It took a lousy living situation to remember that I had a great living situation in Budapest. It was not perfect there, but it isn't perfect anywhere. There are degrees of perfection. Budapest was high up there, but are current living situation is a really good one too.
Kata mentioned the other day the new place feels like a real home. That's all that you can ask for, and it's all you really need.