Home, sweet home
Thank you for keeping your fingers crossed for us. We finally completed the house deal just over two weeks ago at the notary in Álora (of all places). This is of course where we had suffered a severe bout of food poisoning almost a year ago - see blog entry ´Many happy returns to the bathroom` - and vowed never to return. I somehow managed to turn up without my passport and had to drive home again to go and get it – silly me.
Yet again, we found ourselves in a real s*** pit when we first went to take a look at our new home. The owner had not been present herself when her furniture and other possessions had been removed and loaded into a van. Nobody had bothered to sweep the floor which boasted a thick crust of mud and dirt, as well as generous amounts of dead insects. The dishwasher had not been disconnected properly which had led to the fact that we found ourselves gazing at a fair-sized lake in the middle of the kitchen. Packaging material had been carelessly discarded on the floor of several rooms and used candles, as well as fridge contents had simply been abandoned on the kitchen worktops. The owner had left us to dispose of a grubby old sofa, an ugly standard lamp, a pile of old magazines (to name but a few items), and the place looked as if it had been ransacked. They (whoever ´they` were) had not only taken the lamps off the walls but had helped themselves to the sockets too, so all that was left were bare wires. Some of the outdoor lampshades had been removed, dangerously exposing cables and light bulbs to the elements. Furthermore, both butane gas bottles had been abducted. Having found a rusty spare front door key behind a flower pot on the patio, we were still one key short. In the kitchen we found two bits of paper: one was an envelope on which someone had listed all keys belonging to the property. Next to the word ´front door key`, there was a comment: ´One set still with agent.` Cheers guys. (Incidentally, we had a new lock put in a few days later. Better to be safe.) The other piece of paper had a note for the removal chap scribbled on it: ´Don´t forget the satellite dish.` We looked at one another and ran outside to have a peek at the roof. The massive dish was still there (which should go without saying, if a house is advertised and sold as having satellite television connected). The man and his van had either forgotten about it or merely ignored this totally idiotic request.
So there we were again: we had a house to clean which we had rented for seven months and, on top of that, another one which we had just bought. Looking on the bright side, at least we only had to clean up our own muck in the rental house and the beautification of our new house was, of course, for our own benefit. Several days of hard graft ensued. We packed, scrubbed, tidied, painted, unpacked, had a new fridge and washing machine delivered, internet connected and – Tuesday before last – were finally reunited with our furniture and other bits and bobs which had been stored in a friend´s barn in Norfolk over the past year and a bit. A day later, we moved the last of our gear (including our two cats and ourselves) into the new house. Another day later, I set off to Germany where I attended a school reunion. (That´s a blog in itself though.) Yesterday, I flew back home again – and this time I really mean HOME. We´re there – at last.