#euroom
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𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟒 : 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘳
the bedrooms in the poseidon house are very much blank slates when one of the sea god’s children arrive : very bright and airy, very blank with pale hardwoods and walls, meant to be a canvas for whatever the demigod wants this little space of their own to be.
clearly jason didn’t get that last bit.
›› 𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 ( 𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘵 & 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 ) ›› 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 ( 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘴 ) ( ᵗᵉᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉ ᵃˢˢⁱˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵈᶜʸˡⁱˡʸ )
when jason first arrived at campus, the last thing on his mind was decorating his bedroom, merely pulling in the essentials to make it a livable space : a pallet bed, a desk, a bookshelf, a nightstand. the walls remained untouched, and soon enough jason became accustomed to their blankness, almost enjoying it much as he enjoyed a good untarnished expanse of ice. he didn’t own much, still doesn’t own much, his clothes more than comfortably fitting in his closet and negating the need for a wardrobe, meaning clutterness never was going to be a problem. blues and greys predominate the room, with his sheets, blankets, and sheer gray curtains that still let in light when drawn — rarely does he not start the day with the sun. some of his furniture is wood, others black metal — not all of it really matches perfectly and jason is alright with that. boring, dull, blank, sterile : that’s the way his bedroom remained for all of his first year at eonia and probably the way it might have stayed if not for lyra ( @lyraeu ).
lyra found jason’s bedroom to be horrifying to say the least, making it her mission to add personalized touches. it might as well have been her right considering how much TIME she ended up spending there. up until then, a photo of him with his mother was the only sign of a personalized touch — well, that and kraken who spent many hours of the day sleeping on jason’s bed. but soon they were accompanied by two strings of photographs above his bed, almost EXCLUSIVELY photos of jason and lyra ( more than fair, considering it was all her doing ), and a couple of lyra’s selfies carefully handpicked. yes, it’s made for some... interesting conversations if jason ever brings someone back to the poseidon house unfamiliar with their dynamic but he still hasn’t taken them down. over the months, though, jason has swapped out a couple of photos. her other order of business was to string up fairy lights over both of his windows. jason feels like he’s always turning them off, but again, they have remained up.
he has added a few other framed pictures to the one with his mother : one with the eonia hockey team, another just him and sebastian ( @sebastianeu ), and one more with his mother and stepfather — all of them are now on his still-mostly empty bookcase that sometimes doubles as a table to set things on when he comes in. the picture frames share the bookcase with a purple orchid that was a gift from sebastian to brighten up his room, behind it still lies a sticky note that reads ‘ water every monday :)) ’ that sebastian left along with the flower. sticky notes from lyra and sebastian aren’t uncommon around his room. jason’s gym bag almost always sits ready to go next to the bookcase, the one or two pairs of shoes he wears most often on the mat. there remains plenty of wide open space in his room, which turns out is perfect for doing yoga in.
› 01. do they have a room to themselves, or do they have a sibling for a roommate?
as a child of the big three, jason has his own room, though with the frequency that lyra drops by to nap he might as well share it with her.
› 02. where do they land on the messy vs. organized spectrum?
jason is very organized. granted, he doesn’t have a ton of things in the first place, but he’s almost meticulous where everything goes and always neatly makes his bed every morning. lyra often leaves sticky notes if she misses him, but he always knows when she’s been around because the covers are rumpled.
› 03. what does their room say about their personality?
well...
jason often isn’t forthcoming with his inner thoughts, and his room lacking many personal touches does sort of reflect that. the cleanness and lack of clutter is also something he often seeks in his own mind where the opposite is often true.
› 04. how does their college room compare to their room back home?
jason’s room back in saguenay is a bit more cluttered, just from things from his childhood and such, but the walls are almost just as blank and it is still very neat. after the accident, jason stripped his room of any memory of the past, taking down posters and throwing out photos ( though his mom secretly took them out of the trash and has them in a box ).
› 05. how much time do they spend in their room?
it’s a modest amount of time jason spends in his room : often outside, at the rink, hanging out with someone, or studying somewhere else in the poseidon house. only when he needs to be alone or sleep does he retreat to his room.
› 06. how do they feel about others entering their space?
in spite of the fact that jason’s room does very little to reflect his inner thoughts, he doesn’t like people entering his room. there are a few that get passes to this, namely his two best friends —lyra and sebastian. his sisters usually mind their own business... for the most part.
› 07. do they often keep the door open or closed?
though jason doesn’t like people in his room, he doesn’t lock it when he’s not there and it is often left ajar. this is mostly to afford kraken the ability to wander around the house as she wishes. when jason is present in his room, his door is almost always closed.
› 08. have they kept anything from their childhood rooms as adults?
jason has kept precious little from his past, and certainly didn’t bring it with him when he came to greece. the only thing that might count is the photo of him and his mom.
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TASK 004. ROOM TOUR.
the fresh smell of cotton, color-organized marker pens, plush pillows, dull lighting, soothing navy blues, a whiteboard wall, piles of books, the glow of a computer screen.
pinterest.
› 01. do they have a room to themselves, or do they have a sibling for a roommate?
jax is either lucky enough or hated enough to have his own bedroom; though, he isn’t sure. the thought of sharing a room with one of his siblings, a space that is so characteristically him, is unnerving. plus, the two giant bearded dragons can be a bit of a turn off for anybody.
› 02. where do they land on the messy vs. organized spectrum?
organized. each item has their specific space: architecture books in one bookshelf, textbooks organized in boxes under the bed, personal reading material stacked beside his computer desk. his markers, pens and pencils are organized by color, his closet by season, and room hidden under the bed to hide messy, random items away. his bed is made once he’s risen, and he’s even built a bookshelf to categorize his comic book collection. although, his sketches and papers often make a mess on his drafting desk or across the floor and walls, but he’s always sure to clean the following morning.
› 03. what does their room say about their personality?
it displays his passions: his book collections — comic, educational, and fictional, his white board wall filled with equations and lists, his drafting desk in one corner, gaming set up in the other. a simple look within his room lays him out clearly, including the shyness and anxiety of the bedroom. it’s oddly unpersonalized, with no personal photos or many trinkets on display. he wouldn’t refuse it if a loved one asked him to hang something up, but he hasn’t gone out of his own way.
› 04. how does their college room compare to their room back home?
his room back home resembles a show room out of a magazine. it was always to be kept neat and appropriate, art pieces on the wall jax never chose himself. black and gray are the decorative color, almost as his mother set him up before he knew it. other than the computer set up he built, the room was a place for him to reside, but never felt like his own home.
› 05. how much time do they spend in their room?
far too much time. when he’s not at work or in class, he spends as much time as possible, gaming or building or working. between his architecture models and his complex mathematics course work, he keeps it all within those four walls. he’ll leave if requested by a friend, but if you need jax, you know where to find him.
› 06. how do they feel about others entering their space?
he’s not a fan. unless it’s someone he fully trusts, it’s uncomfortable and awkward. it’s his space, his favorite place in the world, and the thought of someone entering who may not respect it is disheartening. only his friends and a few siblings are allowed to spend time in his room, but he only has two rules: don’t move anything, and take off your shoes before the door.
› 07. do they often keep the door open or closed?
closed. for obvious reasons. his room is an area of solitude and peace. he never locks the door, except during suspicious activities, because he quite likes a visit from astrid or another friend, even though he won’t admit it.
› 08. have they kept anything from their childhood rooms as adults?
he has a picture of him and his family that he keeps on top of his bookshelf along with his first chess set. he thinks nostalgia is a scam, but he couldn’t leave those items behind even if he wanted. rarely spoken of, his family is important to him, and he enjoys the reminders of his sisters from time to time. as for the chess set, it simply collects dust, but jax will always love the sport.
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TASK FOUR: ROOM TOUR.
dresser, candles, lamp, thick window curtain, bookshelf, desk, bed.
questions answered under the cut.
› 01. do they have a room to themselves, or do they have a sibling for a roommate?
since her arrival to eonia was very last-minute, jazmine had to share a room with another child of hecate during her first night, but that was the only time. thanks to the hecate house’s adjustable floor plan, she had a room for herself by the next day.
› 02. where do they land on the messy vs. organized spectrum?
unmade bed, books not put away, clothes left out... but never any trash or anything that could attract pests. clutter is her room’s main decoration tbh.
› 03. what does their room say about their personality?
her lack of actual decoration shows that she still isn’t fully committed to eonia and is ready to run away whenever necessary. the darkness and unwelcoming aura also is also a pretty good indication of her general personality.
› 04. how does their college room compare to their room back home?
what home? her father gave her room in new york to one of her mortal half-siblings when he had sent her off to camp athens, so she used to sleep in the guest room whenever she visited. she hasn’t been there since 2017. as for her years right before eonia, she bounced around hotels and camps. compared to those rooms, however, her college room actually belongs to her and could definitely be considered more personalized.
› 05. how much time do they spend in their room?
it truly depends on her schedule. with work, football, class, training, and late night shenanigans, she doesn’t spend as much time in her room as some. if she is in the house, however, she normally holes herself up in there.
› 06. how do they feel about others entering their space?
she’d rather they stay out. there’s nothing there for them anyway.
› 07. do they often keep the door open or closed?
closed, for sure. she magically locks it whenever she leaves the house.
› 08. have they kept anything from their childhood rooms as adults?
she has somehow managed to keep a few of her spellbooks with her. her father probably threw out anything she might’ve left behind.
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PINTEREST
› 01. do they have a room to themselves, or do they have a sibling for a roommate?
She has the room to herself. It’s one of the smallest in the house but it brings her a little bit of sanity! If she were to share a room with any of her siblings, she’s pretty sure the house would’ve already been brought to crumbles by now.
› 02. where do they land on the messy vs. organized spectrum?
Amelia is not messy, but she doesn’t do much to keep her things organized... More than anything she’s clean and keeps things in their area, but those areas tend to be blurry since her room really looks like it’s been a week since she moved in and chose to unpack a few necessary things and left them on the floor.
› 03. what does their room say about their personality?
In Amelia’s room you’ll find what she cares about. It wears the aesthetic of her room back home– neutral colors (which are the ones she loves best) and the few pastel pinks & muted greens. You’ll see stacks on books piled against one of the walls, some more by her window and the one she’s currently invested in– by her nightstand. The large window is covered only by a very thin white curtain that will only turn hard light into a softer one– all while letting all of the sunshine in. She especially likes it so because whatever metal in her room has a pretty golden coat that sparkles in the light.
Many might be a little surprised by her room aesthetic because... it’s not a reflection of her temper (which is what most come to know about Amelia). Instead, it’s a space that shows a piece of her soft nature, her love for books, art & even flowers!
Maybe not an aspect of her personality, really, but one thing people can immediately take away from Amelia’s room is her lack of attachment to Eonia. The few furniture you’ll find is the necessary– a white wooden closet, a nightstand where she’ll set her books and her coffee and a full-body mirror with an intricate golden frame... Other than that, the books and the bed remain on the floor.
› 04. how does their college room compare to their room back home?
The colors are similar, the thin white curtain might as well be the same from the ones she keeps back home... the many stacks of books are also something you’ll find in her Paris room (in bookshelves, mostly), but her college room is definitely lacking in life and personality. Back home her walls are a little bit more crowded with art she’s collected and pictures of people and places she loves, her bed has a low but pretty wooden base and she even has a chair by the window where she sits to read all while bathing in the sun.
› 05. how much time do they spend in their room?
Not much. If she’s at the Demeter house she’s either in the kitchen or in her room... but she really avoids the house all together. It’s a place to sleep and sometimes to just lay in her bed and relax... but she’s much rather be at the library or at the grecian gallery.
› 06. how do they feel about others entering their space?
It’s a big no– especially if they haven’t been invited. Even though it’s not a space she’s especially attached to, it’s her space and it really feels like somebody’s corrupting the place if they enter. There are only a few people who have actually stepped in it.
› 07. do they often keep the door open or closed?
Closed. Always and forever, but the window remains open unless it’s very cold or raining.
› 08. have they kept anything from their childhood rooms as adults?
She’s kept all of the books her dad has given her (and pretty much every book she’s acquired in her lifetime), a golden framed oval mirror that Camille gave her in her eight birthday that she keeps in her vanity and a pretty flowerpot she once found on her backyard when she was about ten (she’s ignorant of this but it was actually a gift from Demeter)... Amelia always keeps a petite red rose shrub in it.
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ROOM TOUR !!!
a cluttercore room, full of random antiques, stacks and stacks of books, pictures of their life, art prints from old and new friends, stuffed animals, their hello kitty bong (missy), a knitted cacti from jax, too many decorative pillows and a lot of handmade quilts bought at farmer’s markets!
› 01. do they have a room to themselves, or do they have a sibling for a roommate?
they do have the room to themselves, hestia is, unsurprisingly, not a very large house, so it’s pretty easy to claim singles. given that they’ve also been at eonia for four years at this point, it was pretty easy to (politely) establish their dominance and get their own space, but their door is always open as long as you knock!! also important to note they’re directly across the hall from fe.
› 02. where do they land on the messy vs. organized spectrum?
it’s complicated because to an untrained eye, it seems like it’s absolutely messy, but truthfully, anaïs uses their room as a time capsule, clutter is their friend. and they always know where everything is, even if it looks like a tornado hit the room. they don’t keep old plates or cups in there and hates when clothes and dirt are on the floor, but there’s so much stuff that it is difficult to navigate on occasion.
› 03. what does their room say about their personality?
so much. it’s so easy to glean what anaïs is about by stepping into their room. pictures of their friends and family and important moments litter their walls, stuffed animals on their bed, books everywhere, it’s as eclectic as they are, it holds everything within it, just like ana collects memories. it’s the same silly sentimentality that they’re often known for reflected onto material objects.
› 04. how does their college room compare to their room back home?
there’s actually more stuff in their college room than their room at home, considering they haven’t lived in avignon since they were 11 years olds, and even then, they were starting over from the fire that destroyed most, if not all, of their father’s and their belongings. the fire possibly could be the reason they’ve started collecting so many things, even if it is never about material possessions, they’ve grown used to being surrounded by clutter.
› 05. how much time do they spend in their room?
as much as they can! they’re pretty busy between double majors, clubs, and work, as well as somehow managing a social life, but their room is their safe place, so they use it often as a place to seek a recharge or relaxation.
› 06. how do they feel about others entering their space?
they love having people over! admittedly, it smells like scented candles and weed a lot so i don’t know how much people want to be in it, but they’re more than happy to have other’s hang out. and truthfully, if they invite you in, they trust you on some level.
› 07. do they often keep the door open or closed?
so it is always closed because they like a bit of privacy, but it is always unlocked, so it’s very easy for their siblings or friends to come into it. the only time they lock it is when there is a sexy guest over and do not want to warrant the risk of people walking in on them.
› 08. have they kept anything from their childhood rooms as adults?
a lot of their childhood things burned in the fire they started all those years ago, but they have one stuffed animal they’ve had since they were three years old, and it’s a stuffed rabbit called mon lapinou (literally translated to my bunny), tucked away among the many plushies on their bed. it’s definitely the one that’s worse for wear, worn out and missing an eye, but ana simply says he’s the most loved of them all.
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ᵗᵃˢᵏ ᶠᵒᵘʳ ››› room tour.
◈ 01. do they have a room to themselves, or do they have a sibling for a roommate?
as current ra for hermes house, anton definitely has a room all to himself. it wasn’t a hard decision to make, though. anton has...things he’d like to keep for himself and just himself. still, every now and then someone shares the room with him, and they’re not always from the same house.
◈ 02. where do they land on the messy vs. organized spectrum?
anton’s room leans more towards the messy spectrum, though to him, his clutter is fairly organized. there is a method to the madness, as they say, and although the mountains of clothes, school supplies, and whatever else is on the floor may appear otherwise, he does keep track in his head of each and every thing in his room. at least for the most part.
◈ 03. what does their room say about their personality?
his room reflects his cluttered life, the chaos in his struggles to redeem himself versus simply staying the way he is, the latter an easier path to follow for sure. the massive amounts of green, olive green, chartreuse, white, and khaki objects in his room is an unexplained preference for the colors, a preference anton himself isn’t quite sure where he got from.
◈ 04. how does their college room compare to their room back home?
their room back home is much cleaner, tidier, mostly because his mother and even his younger sister bee would always pick up after him, despite his protests. anton loves the way his rooms are, his clutter a form of organization only his chaotic mind knows. back home, however, it’s always two against one, and the women always win against him. besides, anton only ever uses his college room to sleep, preferring to be elsewhere every other time, studying in the library or the coffeeshop and hanging out with friends.
◈ 05. how much time do they spend in their room?
honestly? not as much as most others do. anton usually only sleeps in his room. he eats outside, studies elsewhere, and most often, hangs out with friends in their own spaces.
◈ 06. how do they feel about others entering their space?
it depends on the others, really. if it’s a fun, quick fling, he doesn’t mind. if it’s a friend who knows him inside and out, he doesn’t mind. if it’s a sibling, he really doesn’t mind. when it’s someone he’s trying to impress, though, he can feel a little bit of shame with how messy his room might appear to the uninitiated. after all, not everyone is well-versed in anton’s personal organizational structure.
◈ 07. do they often keep the door open or closed?
anton’s door is always open when he’s around but it’s always closed when he’s with someone else, someone “fun”. wink wink!
◈ 08. have they kept anything from their childhood rooms as adults?
not really. he has a hoodie that’s important to him, but most of his childhood stuff are kept back home where it’s much safer than with him, considering his stepdad has his own safe and is pretty much a stickler for security. anton’s much more carefree, so the things in his current room can be lost much easier, which goes without saying that he doesn’t have any really important stuff in there.
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The long read: That One Where I Moved To England
This is going to be long, so let's start with some background.
England has always held a fascination for me, something I know loads of people can sympathise with. An old school mate of mine went to London a few years ago and whenever we talked she told me to come, too. And I wavered, wanting to go on the one hand, wanting that big adventure, but on the other hand, I was afraid. Of course I was. Being all alone in a foreign country, on my own, with no help to get easily. But the dream was alive. Oh, I liked dreaming about it. I imagined the greatest of times, me in England. Old castles and country cottages and people speaking English. What fun I would have.
And then came the day my boss told me that the company would have to be sold soonish and he couldn't promise me that the new owners would keep me. So I quit and I started thinking. England was one option, but the most amazing thing happened: I didn't want to go.
With so much clarity, I knew, now was not the right time for me. I was 27 then, just off from my first real job, so much confidence that I was great at what I was doing, and the world was open to me. England was a dream, but not one I wanted to pursue then. And that made me so happy. Because, up until then, I had always played with that thought of moving there, but always too afraid, too hesitant. In that moment, when I knew that yes, I could now, in fact, the timing could hardly be better, but I didn’t want to, I also knew that, maybe, someday the opposite would be true. That someday I would know that now was the right moment, just as surely as I knew then that that wasn't it.
So I left Hamburg after three and a half rather happy years, illnesses and personal set-backs notwithstanding, and moved back home. I started a job in Berlin, didn't find a flat there and had to move into my father's guest room, where I was to make myself at home but not to change anything. That chapter is a whole different story and I'll tell it another time, but what we have to take from here is that after two months, that Moment, capital M, was there. I knew it was time now.
And so I started preparing. At first people didn't believe me. Well, they're wont to do that. But obviously I was serious. I started thinking about where I wanted to live. Brighton, that was my favourite. Never been there, but why not, eh? I looked at the job sites and there were some offers for people with just my skillset. It looked good. It looked feasible. Up until October I told people that was where I was headed eventually. Because even so, I knew I would have to start out in London. It was just easier. Set up base in London and then find a job in Brighton. Well, spoiler alert, I never made it to Brighton. When the job offer came, my heart bled and I declined. I couldn't face leaving London.
Finding a place to live was daunting from abroad. I couldn't just fly over and look at places. Well, technically I could, but I didn't want to. Too much stress. I found this website that was renting out rooms, for just a smallish fee of 100 pounds in advance, as deposit and security. That sounded reasonable. My room was to cost 125 pounds a week, which sounded high, but as I soon found out was also quite reasonable for London. So I booked it, starting from the first week of January.
I felt a bit queasy about that, but I've only paid £100 in advance, so I thought if worse came to worst, I'd lose 100 quid and would have to stay in a youth hostel. That was my plan B. God, did people laugh at me. But I was confident everything would go all right.
So I had a place to live, but still no job. And here comes my real secret to success, to sit down and listen carefully: I had money. There. I had a job in Germany that was paying all right, and I lived at home where my father refused to take rent. I saved up, I think, around 8,000 Euros, and went abroad with that in my pocket. That was a lot of reassurance right there.
So I wasn't worried about a job. Here’s my second secret to success: Study for a job that is needed everywhere and is not reliant on a certain language. In my case, that's being a programmer, and the only language anyone was ever concerned I "spoke" was Java. Problem solved.
With enough money in my pocket to survive the first five or six months and a sought-after occupation on my resume, I packed my bags.
That's another fun story. I'm a bit cheap, I have to admit. So I only booked one piece of luggage for that first flight. Everything I wanted to take with me had to fit in one medium-sized suitcase and weigh less than 23kg. That was a bit of a challenge.
In the end I took mostly clothes, and winter clothes to boot, it being January and all. I've rolled the pieces so tightly in order to fit as much as humanly possible into that suitcase. My laptop, phone and kindle where in my carry-on luggage, and I wore my boots and heavy winter coat. And that was all.
I'm always laughing about it. I left my whole life behind with just a suitcase full of clothes and a laptop. That was all. I've seen so many people arrive in this country, and they always bring so much luggage. When I compare that to the stuff I brought, I can't help but think that something is wrong with me. There were people on the airport with more suitcases going on a winter holiday than I had when I planned to move my life abroad.
Nobody, I believe, took my seriously. How could they? Everything I did seemed so spontaneous. I had no real place to live, no job, no belongings. How long did they think I would make it, seriously? I think they all thought it was a lark, they must have. It's kind of a joke, if you think about it.
I took a very early flight that 3rd January 2014, and because it was a connecting flight, I've only made it to Heathrow by lunch time, by which time I was knackered already. It was warmish that day, but foggy, and I was in my big winter coat and already sweating. First order of business was I needed money for my room. I had paid the deposit online, but when I was to pick up the key for the flat, I was to pay for the first two weeks in cash. Plus, I needed an Oyster card and possibly something to eat later on, so money was the first thing I did on the airport.
My heart just about stopped when I typed in the amount I needed at the cash machine and, without a message, no money came out. I wanted £500 pounds, but nothing happened. I feared that it would take the money from my account without giving me a single quid and already saw my savings melting away. £500, gone like that.
I tried another machine and another card with a smaller amount, and that, at last, spit out some money. I've tried the other card for the rest, and that, too, worked. I still had an uneasy feeling about the first machine. I wasn't sure if I had just depleted my savings or not. Thankfully, that had not been the case. The reason is that these machines don't give you more than £300 at a time, but I didn’t know that back then, and because there was no error message, I had no way of knowing.
With a big wad of cash in my pocket, the British having a dislike for any note that is bigger than £20, I went to get an Oyster card, the pay-as-you-go transportation ticket in London, and promptly lost that. I've put £50 on it, and it was gone after a minute. I was about to cry. I frantically searched all my pockets, my backpack, my suitcase for wherever I might have put it, but it was gone. Well, not all pockets, not the back pocket of my jeans, because I've never ever ever had put anything in there, so there was no need to search that, right? Until, of course, I did, and of course it was there that I had put the Oyster card. I've no idea why. I still don't use that pocket, ever.
Knackered, with the thought of having lost £500 to a faulty cash machine, and after just having spent more than 20 minutes looking for an Oyster card that was never lost, I jumped into the tube and put my ear plugs in. Time to forget everything.
I had a goodish idea about how to get to the place where I was supposed to pick up the key for my room, but once outside of Walthamstow Central, I realised I was lost. And it had started hailing, because, why not. I tried to make my phone connect to the network and find my way on Google maps, but even that took ages. But then, I finally made it to the office where I was supposed to sign my first English contract. How exciting.
Except, no, of course not. The good news is, it actually was not an internet scam and they were expecting me. I sat in a little room that was more storage area than office, crammed in between boxes and suitcases, and put my name on a one-page contract. Then they wished me good luck and locked the door after me.
It was still hailing while I waited for the bus to take me to my new place, but alas, I was stupid and waited on the wrong side of the road. It would take me weeks to completely get that out of my system. Once on the right side and then on the right bus, it dropped me off a few hundred metres from my new home. The street looked nice enough. A row of terraced houses, a view that you can see everywhere around London and in fact the UK. It's as anonymous as it is benign. I walked down the road, counting the house numbers, and there, almost at the end, it finally was: 30, Balmoral Road. A blue door in a dirty, little shrubbery. I took a deep breath and entered through the unlocked door.
The hallway, the teeny tiny hallway, was half-filled with letters, what must have been years of undelivered letters. There were three doors leading off of it, and on one was a crude note saying EURooms, which was my letting "agency". Excitedly, I put the key in and was so surprised when it didn't work. I couldn't get the door to open. Minutes and minutes passed, but the door wouldn't budge until someone heard me indoors and let me in. That was a very common problem for all new-comers. No-one was able to open that door, because you had to do so many things at the same time, put the key in only to a certain amount, and then chant the magic words three times while turning on the spot counter clockwise. They forgot to tell me that at the agency.
The door opened to another teeny tiny hallway. Let's put that into perspective, my medium-sized suitcase didn't fit through it. Off that hallway was the kitchen, where the oven had never worked and the washing machine was constantly running. The kitchen led to the bathroom and to one of the bedrooms, then a staircase downstairs to the basement and the other bedrooms. Going downstairs, you passed a hole in the wall big enough for a grown man to climb through, that was never explained, or covered, or even bothered about. The bedrooms downstairs were a big double that was let to a couple, a box room just barely big enough to fit a single bed (the wardrobe was in the hallway), and then my room, which was the most spacious of them all. I had a single bed that fit in lengthwise, and quite some space for a desk and chair even, and of course a wardrobe. Everybody was so envious of that room. I was just in shock.
This place was run-down. I'm not very peculiar about those things and I knew that with a bit of cleaning and tender loving care, this could be liveable. But by then, I had been on my feet for 10 hours, I was wet and cold, and frankly exhausted, and all I could see was the narrowness of everything. It was dirty, there were holes in the wall, and you needed to take a day-course to be able to unlock the front door. I had never doubted any decision as much as the one to move to London right then.
I closed the door to my new and curious flatmates and sat down on the bed to have a little cry. I was overwhelmed.
But, life must go on, right? And I was hungry and disgusting. I hadn't brought food or even soap, figuring I'd buy that somewhere on my first day and use the space in my suitcase for a few more clothes. I ventured out of my room again and found a flatmate to ask where the nearest supermarket was. Helpfully, he directed me to the next Asda, which he confessed wasn't the closest supermarket, but I'd be stupid to go anywhere else, where I'd pay so much more. So, instead of going to the Tesco fucking 200m away, which he refused to tell me about, he directed me to a superstore almost 1 mile away on a rainy day because I'd be able to save some money. Boy, did I not care about that. I wanted soap and bread and water, and I was angry.
The superstore overwhelmed me even more. It was so big with so many choices none of which I knew. I was hungry, but how was I supposed to know which of the 40 choices of bread was good? What yogurt should I buy? What spread? I was tired and I stood in front of the shelves and tears sprang to my eyes because it was loud and I'm practically deaf in loud spaces and therefore, lost, and I didn't know what to buy. People were constantly shoving me around and I just wanted to know which of these cheeses to get. So I grabbed a packet of pasta, a random loaf of bread, a two litre bottle of water, soap, and ran for my life. I felt so stupid.
Back in the flat, I showered and felt so much better for that already. I've changed into fresh clothes and lay down on the bed. I didn't like the covers, which were made of very cheap polyester, but I put that on my mental list of things to buy. New bed sheets. Salt for my pasta. Shampoo. After some time, I felt restored enough to brave my flatmates, who were still so curious to get to know me.
The people were nice enough. Once I got to know them a bit better, I didn't hate them and they were a friendly group. We'd all go out from time to time and often had dinner together. There was one girl, part of the couple, who had lived in the flat for a year, the others were always coming and going. Some people stayed for a few weeks, some a few months. Myself, I actually stayed 8 months in that house.
Because here’s the thing: Yes, I was shocked at how small everything was that first day. It was, and it takes some getting used to. In Germany, everything is much more spacious and it's a definite downgrade. What they call a small double bedroom in England is a storage room in a German flat.
It was dirty and it was run-down, but I didn't spend all that much time in that flat. After a good night's sleep, I got up that first Saturday and ventured out. I explored Leyton and then Stratford, and I came to like it so very much. My first month in London, I was a tourist, just going from place to place and taking it all in. I started looking for a job in February, started interviewing in March and working in April. The weather got nicer and nicer and I watched the parks becoming green. I fell in love with Regent's Park. We got a new flatmate who made us go to the Leyton Technical, a lovely pub down the road, almost every night for 8 straight weeks. I made friends. I spent the best birthday I ever had in a café atop a hill in Stratford. When I had saved up a bit of money, I moved into a lovely flat in Haringey with an old friend. England, and London especially, is very different from everything I ever knew and it was a gigantic change and it was a challenge, and it's something everybody wanting to move here should be aware of. But what I'm trying to say is, my life changed so much in these past 3 and half years, and I couldn't be happier about it. Was it worth it giving everything up to come here? Apart from that very first day, I never stopped to even question it, to be honest. A big, resounding yes.
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