Even for a nomad, we’re feeling extremely unsettled right now. If I lapse in posts, this is the reason. We’ve never had so many unknowns, changes and upheavals in one round before and it is taking a toll on my patience.
First we were told we HAD to get an apartment in London, no easy feat when you have to secure 6 of them. Then the schedule changed sending some people to other locations, then sending us all to Ireland for 4 weeks, then only 3 weeks for us, and finally only 2 weeks. Because of all the changes in timing it was impossible to secure an apartment and we were finally told we could stay in a hotel. Thanks to the very last minute change, our hotel didn’t have room for us last week. So, we had to stay at a different hotel, move our luggage over on Friday and then check-in to the new place when we returned from Munich.
When we finally arrived at midnight, to what is supposed to be our “home” for the next 5 weeks, we are less than impressed. Our room is a nightmare, literally. We were “upgraded” to a suite. Yay! Except wait, this suite hasn’t been upgraded…ever. It’s like a chopped up, creepy old apartment with little rooms connected to a heinous bathroom that even if a tidal wave of bleach washed over it, it would still look and feel dirty. We’re on the first floor and facing a very busy street so loud doesn’t begin to describe our nights. The whole floor is actually creepy. I’m not kidding when I say when I walk down the hall I’m waiting for blood to come spilling out of the elevator or these two to come walking towards me…
So, we wake up Monday morning with the mission of finding an apartment…again. London is insanely busy in October and because of the “deal” this hotel gave us, our budget is extremely low. I spend hours scouring the web and begging apartment people to help us find a place. If this is the hotel’s upgraded suite, we want out of here and pronto…at least before I start looking for a ax…or a big wheel, I didn’t want to see what character I was going to turn out to be.
Then Jules comes home and tells me the other girls can’t believe our stories about our room. Their rooms are nice. Mmmhmm, sure. Except, we go to look at them and they are. They are normal hotel rooms with normal bathrooms, even have a pullout sofa (which we need for our friends coming to visit) and no sign of the twins or blood spilling elevators on their halls.
As soon as some people check out this afternoon, I’m going up to look at a room the front desk guy assures us is on par with what the rest of the team received. Wish me luck because at any moment I could seriously start talking to my index finger, Tony.
*If you have not read the novel or seen the movie, The Shining- this post will not make a lot of sense to you. AND you should totally see that movie- it’s a classic!
