Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Nearly without a home

I took the bus from Malaga to Campillos without having a place to stay. Huge mistake! For some reason, I thought finding a place to stay in a tiny town where I don´t really know the language, while dragging five suitcases and two grumpy children would be easy. I was really, really, wrong.
I ended up in Hostel Francisco for two nights. Still no place to stay, though I was emailing agents and talking to a real live agent who spoke very little english and called ´bedrooms´ ´bethrooms´. I went back to the hostel worried and asked if I could stay another day.
´No, because there is a scooter race and the hostel is booked up.´
´Well . . . is there another hotel?´
´One, but it is also booked up for the scooter race.´
Damn you scooter enthusiasts and your blasted races!!
So my prospects were dim. I´d have to take a bus to a neighboring town and find a room there. I would rather have died than dragged my kids and baggage around one more time!
Then I got a call from a very, very nice english realtor who said the hotels in the neighboring towns were also booked up. That meant I´d have to take an hour long bus ride back to Malaga! Also since the minute I´d arrived I´d decided I´d also rather die than stay here for 8 months she was having a very hard time finding me a shorter lease.
´Because of the Romanians and Peruvians, nobody is willing to rent for less than 8 months, because the move in, trash the apartment and disappear.´
Wow. I had no idea Romanians and Peruvians could be such a problem. As she took me around to apartments she pointed out many things the Romanians and Peruvians had ruined.
´See the broken glass in this elevator? Romanians did that. See how this apartment is infested with cockroaches? The Peruvians did that.´
Also, in her own apartment building, her Romainain neighbors were killing pigs in their kitchen.
So I had a few minutes to get out of the hostel and no place to live. My realator called and I told her my predicament. It started raining. She called around and found me someplace to stay for two nights. I would have rather died than dragged everything to Malaga. I owe her my life. And probably my kids lives, since I don´t know how well they would have survived without me.
Then because she felt profoundly sorry for me, she worked her butt of and found someone willing to rent to me for six months. Unfortunatly, this apartment she found is the one the Peruvians had stricken with cockroaches. Fortunately, I haven´t seen any as of yet, but when we looked at it the first time, we saw two. The realator complained on my behalf and the owner dowsed the kitchen with insecticide (personally I would rather have lived with the cockroaches) and agreed to let me have a three month lease. Thank you Peruvians and your cockroach attracting ways!
Another snag was soon hit as no banks in all of Campillos would trade my dollars for Euros because of touble they´ve been having with the Russian maffia laundering money.
Apparantly, I came at the worst possible time for both needing a short term lease and exchanging money thanks to the Romainas, Peruvians and Russian maffia.

1 comment:

Kimberly said...

Holy shit. (mouth hanging open)