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Thursday 9 August 2012

Life | Moving house is stress personified


As you know, if you have read my other posts, I'm from the Wirral (lets just say Liverpool). Then I moved down to the big city of London for university. The first time I moved my life down to our fair capital was stress free, a breeze if you will. This was mainly down to the fact that I was moving from my mums house into a student accommodation building and so it was all explained in a way I'm sure a two year old could of understood. I lived with Unite if anyones interested and yes, before you ask I would highly recommend them to anyone, even if the amount I was paying for rent was a penny over extortionate. I lived in the one in Tottenham Hale and had a jolly good time living there, the sunsets were particularly good as is demonstrated in my beautiful picture.


Anyway enough of that slightly related tangent. This is a tale of stress, not one of a fun, stress free year in the paradise that is Tottenham Hale (jokes). So, me and five of my friends decided that we wanted to rent a house together, to continue our aforementioned fun filled time living in London. This turns out to be way not as easy as it sounds.

Firstly, finding a six bedroom house in London, preferably reasonably central, is near enough impossible on a student budget. Secondly, our rich chinese friends, not racial profiling, factual, had found quite possibly the most beautiful apartment ever. Like, ever. It has a balcony that looks out over the millennium dome (I refuse to acknowledge that is now the o2 arena, it will always be the millennium dome to me no matter what everyone else says). I took that picture from their balcony would you believe. Long story short that apartment is the stuff that dreams are made of, if you dream of very nice apartments that is. It was then clear that anywhere we found to live would look like a pile of rubble in comparison to that place and so we tirelessly continued our search for property perfection.

Then as if by magic we stumbled on what can only be described as a miracle. Two three bed apartments in the same building. On the Thames. With views of the shard and the gherkin. I hope you are suitably impressed. And as if it were meant to be the two were in our budget range. It was a miracle, divine intervention if you will, it was meant to be. Or so it seemed. We paid our little deposit thing to have them taken off the market and then skipped back to Tottenham, well we got the tube back but you get the gist. It was then that things started to get expensive, complicated, stressful and did I mention expensive?

Everything started out well enough we put our references through and sent over copies of our bank statements and all that jazz and it all seemed not too shabby, apart from the three hundred pound referencing and admin fee that we all had to pay. Each. And from this point on more and more chaos ensued. My references failed for like no reason at all meaning that I had to pay an extra hundred pounds to have then done again, may I remind you that I am a poor London student and so a hundred pound is like a million to me right now!

Then before we knew it the estate agents were threatening to pull the deal and leave us basically homeless and about six hundred pound poorer... it took a hell of a lot of complaining and threatening to take this higher up for them to finally see that they should just let us move in to our beautiful new apartment! So all in all the moral of the story is, if your looking for a beautiful apartment on the Thames, don’t go with my estate agent which, for legal reasons I probably shouldn't name... so lets just call them carbon dioxide property management. (if you knew what they were actually called then you would see what I did there, but alas you do not.)

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