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| In Budapest, you never judge a building by its lobby. |
As I mentioned in the last post I finally have an apartment in
Budapest. Now that I’m slowly adjusting to life with a toilet in a tiny closet far,
far away from the rest of my bathroom fixtures, I can reminisce about the
apartment hunt that got me here.
The Great Budapest Apartment Search is a rite of passage for every
expatriate in my office. Everyone arrives in Budapest and is put up at a hotel
on the company dime for two weeks. In those two weeks, you must get over jet
lag, get over the culture shock, get used to a fast-paced job, adjust to a so-so hotel, deal with the language
barrier and find an apartment before you’re homeless.
Everyone is curious how your hunt is going and happy to help out, because
they’ve all gone through it. But it’s a lot like talking real estate in
Toronto, everyone is also comparing apartments. Not in a negative way, but in
that vicarious way you find yourself looking at other people’s domiciles.
Despite all the stress, there are upsides. Rent in Budapest, compared
to other European capitals, is inexpensive. Great transit makes the commute to
work easy no matter where you live. Plus, many apartments are decadently large.
Look hard, choose wisely, and you’ll walk away with a nice home.
Despite world wars, invasions and a few occupations, downtown Budapest
has many century-old apartment blocks. These are buildings of the old-style: a
thick-walled structure built around a courtyard. You enter your
apartment from an outdoor walkway along the courtyard. The apartments have
massive windows, 20-foot ceilings, with an area between 70 and 90 m2
for a one bedroom flat. That ‘m’ is for meters, folks.
I had heard about this, but didn’t take it completely seriously until I
visited my first apartment. Most are even in great condition, despite their
age. The buildings themselves are a whole other thing. Some are clean and
well-lit. Others would be incredibly hazardous to traverse in night.
The third apartment I visited would have excited a horror movie
location scout. The courtyard balcony was so dark the real estate agent couldn’t
unlock a door without the light of her phone. Just steps away was a recess where
I’m very certain there was a staircase – it was so dark and dank a bridge troll
could have been living there. Inside, the apartment itself was very pleasant.
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| I might have had a Bridge Troll for a neighbour. |
I will point out now that in Budapest the landlords hire real estate
agents to help rent out their places. This is awesome because, aside from having
an expert that knows the lay of the land, I wasn’t plan on answering Hungarian
craigslist ads and getting kidnapped and sold into white slavery. I’ve seen Taken, and that’s not going to be me.
Some real estate agents are a bit, well, clueless. I was shown an
apartment at a square where Budapest’s metro lines all link at one station
belowground. Aboveground are restaurants, boutiques, swank pedestrian avenues –
all smack dab downtown. I was a little surprised the real estate agent found a place
within my price range here.
It was owned by an Italian landlord who bought one large
Budapest-style apartment, renovated it and divided into three small one-bedroom
apartments. With its high ceilings, the apartment was higher than it was wide. While
in the puny kitchenette, I looked to my right, out the front door, and realized
anyone walking down the corridor could see straight in and catch me making my
breakfast in my pajama-jammies. And it was €100 over my budge – an
easy one to walk away from.
But then there are tough choices. One of the last apartments I looked
at was a modern apartment. It had normal ceilings, normal square footage and,
on the ninth floor with a balcony, had a beautiful view of the city, the basilica,
the citadel, and the Buda hills. It was stunning.
The hitch? It was such a small space, made smaller with the gigantic
furniture crammed in there, then made even smaller with the landlady, real
estate agent, myself and a random Czech guy (a temporary tenant) all
shoulder-to-shoulder, smiling awkwardly at each other. After the quick tour, the
landlady was started repeating herself, the Czech guy was smiling and walking about
like a Festrunk Brother from SNL, and
even the real estate agent was looking uncomfortable. So we made a quick
getaway.
In the end, I went for my current apartment. When I looked at it the
first time, the real estate agent (my favourite of the lot) gave me the tour and
then left me alone to “see if I see myself there.” It worked. The lobby might look
like a catacomb, the hardwood floor is a bit rough and there’s no elevator, but
the location is prime, the space is huge, and I couldn’t see myself anywhere
else right now.
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| My modest living room. |
