Unlucky in London

WARNING: If you want to read something upbeat and positive, then don't read this post. I'm having a Negative Nancy Day about life here in the UK.

I'm not like this ALL the time, though Scott might tell you differently. However, on days where we have to deal with housing or baby, it pretty much ruins my day.

Yep that's right, we DID NOT get the flat. So, the search starts again sometime this week. Thursday, I believe.

Oh, you want to hear the reason??? Apparently the landlord thinks that her property is not large enough for our longterm needs. And do you think we were ever asked what kind of lease we wanted to sign?? No. Of course not. I'm too tired and frustrated to research the laws in the UK, but pretty sure this is not a reason that would fly back at home OR here. She said her current tenant was leaving for the same reason, she outgrew the place with a child. I was told by the estate agent that the tenant had been there for four years. Pretty good run if you ask me. So... strike two. Either the next is "third one's a charm" or "strike three, you're out." I'm in a pessimistic mood today, so you can probably tell which way I think it will go.

...and all of this took over two-weeks to find out. More time wasted.

Here's a topic I've managed not to write much on. NHS. I've been waiting for a happy ending so that I can post and have something positive to say, but looks like that may not happen anytime soon. So why take a sourpuss thread and turn it around, now???

For those that are not aware, the UK offers NHS (National Healthcare System). Free healthcare for all!! Just don't be in a hurry.

We do have private healthcare through Scott's company, and though we knew it wouldn't cover childbirth, we've recently found out that it doesn't really cover bupkis. If memory serves, that was from his HR person at this branch (minus the word "bupkis"). Yes, that's right... it does nothing. It might get you to the front of the line in an emergency, but for all needs, you must go through NHS or pay to get your own doctor.

My last visit with my doctor at home took place the week we left. I was in his office every two weeks for blood pressure observations and having my fibroids measured via sonogram every month.

I thought once we got here that in two weeks, I would begin my search for a GP. Giving myself plenty of time. The GP is the general doctor you go to for everything. Then if it's out of his hands, he refers you to someone else. In my case, a midwife and hospital.

To get in with a clinic and GP, you must have a permanent address here in the UK. So, knowing that they might ask for this, I asked the hotel to write me a letter stating that this is my permanent address and the date I moved in. All good. We went up there and even got in that hour (so far, I like!). The GP referred me to a hospital and faxed my information over. I asked the guy at the front counter what step to take next and his reply was, "Wait for hospital's call." Me, "I don't contact a midwife?" Him, "Wait for hospital's call." Me, "I do nothing else??" Him, "Wait for hospital's call."

Okay. So, I wait for hospital's call. About five days. Nothing. I call the GP's office and they tell me to call the hospital to see if the fax was received, so I do. The fax was NOT received. So, I call the GP and they fax it over. I call the hospital, yes... they got it this time. Then I get the, "We'll call you." So, three days later I get a call and all they ask me is my address. WHICH IS ON THE FORM. Hello?? That's it, nothing else. I wait two more days and decide to call them. The booking lady tells me that she is working on bookings and will call that day or the next. Do you think I've heard?? No. That was week ago. So, with the advice of an expat board, I've been trying to get in touch with PALS (Patient Advisory Liaison Services). Okay, are you ready??? The phone line is open M-F from 10AM until noon. Oh, and they experience heavy calls during those hours. ARE YOU SURPRISED??? Nor am I!

Seriously, at this point it's become a joke. Today is a bank holiday (Memorial Day in the US), but I call thinking... it's a hospital, they don't close! Guess again... booking is closed, PALS is closed, Antenatal Clinic (prenatal in the states).... all closed.

Maybe a good time to mention that when driving past the hospital that they have referred me to, I notice that the sign reads, "Guys and St. Thomas Hospital: Open 24-hours for you!" I looked at Scott and questioned why a hospital had to advertise that they were 24-hour? Shouldn't they all be?? Do emergencies only happen during the day in London?!?!?

If you've been keeping up with a calendar next to you, then you know it's been about five-weeks since I've seen anyone that knows anything about pregnant women. The GP did take my blood pressure, and we went down and bugged him to do it again the next week. At least that has remained steady. Shocking. But, no monitoring of the baby or blood work. Thank goodness I have my friend, Laura Super RN, who's been keeping me calm by giving me all the signs to look for to rush to a hospital if need be.

So, begins a crappy day tomorrow of calling and calling. I feel like I'm going to have to adopt that American attitude that we are stereotyped to have by Europeans. Loud, pushy and obnoxious. I'm beginning to realize why we have this stereotype. It seems that nothing else gets any kind of answers or assistance.

Though Scott's boss is willing to do "whatever it takes" to make things work for us, I'm afraid that these are things that are out of his control. Unless of course, he's willing to pay for a private birthing center and perhaps threaten to break the legs of landlords refusing our offers of MORE than asking price.

We have eight weeks before our baby arrives, and that's if I carry to term. Time is not on our side... and if we don't find a place this week available to move in soon, we might be out of options.

Also, I said I was not going to have an opinion on any kind of US national healthcare until it was in place, but too late... my opinion is formed. I think you know what it is.

I want to say that I would not post these things, but my intentions of this is to inform others that are considering taking this step. So, my suggestion would be not to move here if you are already pregnant (or as far along as I was at the move). I'm posting the good with the bad. Though most seems bad, right now... I am still trying to keep my chin up that things can work out for us.

The Waiting Game

Here we are, over a week later, and we still don't know about the flat in Chiswick. We are in a bidding war with two other people. So, the owner decides to up the price of the flat, which, of course, we all agree to pay. So, we've given Erryl our highest price and still waiting to hear. It seems that the owner lives in Goa and his estate agent/property manager has a hard time getting in touch with him. Not a great way to do business.

I'm terribly frustrated because I'm not really excited to look at anything else, based on what we've seen. Plus, we know that things availabilities are limited. I'm sure anything else that we were slightly, SLIGHTLY interested in is now off the market.

Even though our current place is nice and we love the staff, it is getting old. Walking the dogs every few hours, not allowing them to be off the leash. Housekeeping ringing the bell morning, turndown service at night, quality control in the middle of the day. With things like that, it just doesn't feel like home. I mean, it is a hotel, after all.

Even though we still don't know anything, Erryl is making plans to go searching for more flats on June 2nd. Hopefully the other place will work out, if not. Here we go again.

House Hunters International??

I wish it were that easy. Three houses, a quick discussion and then a decision. All in thirty-minutes! Well, 20-minutes when you factor in commercials. Definitely not our case.

We were informed that houses and flats for let (rent) are very tight, right now. Not many people are moving and giving up what they have. Our situation made it even tighter. We really need a second room for baby (and guests) and we also really wanted a small garden so that the dogs could go in and out as they pleased. Also, something with a ten-minute or less walk to a tube station was a must.

We met with our realtor (well, I'm sure he has a different title, here), Erryl, on Thursday morning. Erryl is actually kind of a niche in a weird real estate system.

Here in the UK, realtors are called estate agents. Estate agents are sometimes not a trustworthy crowd. Not all. But, as Erryl put it, "You have to watch out for the sharks." Erryl is more of what we are used to in the US. He searches for properties that fit our needs and then has to schedule appointments with these estate agents to view each one. He is familiar with most of London, but may not know about the property. So, we have to rely on the fact that the estate agent understands our standards and what we need. Though, he's sort of a middle man... Erryl was our best bet to see different areas and give an honest opinion about each area and flat. He is paid by Scott's company to help find us something, so he's not pushing us to take something just to make a commission.

We had been emailing Erryl prior to our meeting. As our day drew near, Erryl informed us that there were no availabilities in the areas we were hoping to look (and had discussed with him earlier). The main problem is finding a place that will let to pet owners. But, he found us several things to look at in the Chiswick area (pronounced Chis-ick). At this time, he also mentioned that he wanted to show us a town called Cobham. Cobham is out side of London and close to Surrey (if not Surrey). Also on the list was Richmond, Kew, Ealing, Acton and St. Margaret's. I was not happy about Cobham. I knew I would like it, but I didn't want Scott to have that kind of commute.

Our first day was spent mostly in Chiswick, as that is where about 70% of the properties were. We found Chiswick's high street (an area's main drag) to be very neighborhood like and lots of shopping. Scott, also, had a fairly close walk to the nearest tube. It seems to be a good area for people our age with children.

We, on that day, found a place that we were pretty set on. It's a ground floor conversion (a house that is now a two floor flat). We would have the lower floor and the garden. In fact, about half of what we looked at were conversions. We were the first to look at the property and expressed to the estate agent that we were interested. This sort of means that we have the first right to make an offer. I believe if she gets another before hearing from us, then she has to contact Erryl. We knew that this place would not last long and were anxious to get through the next day. Oh yeah, we did find a great place in Putney. But, the Putney area didn't seem as charming as Chiswick. So, I guess you could call Putney a second choice.

So, day two. Because there are so few places available currently, Eryll had to resort to searching with Foxton's. Foxton's is the largest estate agency in London. If you google real estate (or similar) in London, Foxton's is the first hit you get. Though they are large, according to Erryl, they are not reputable. He only uses them as a last resort. The majority of the properties that we looked at this day were almost all Foxton's. And let me just say, they were all very disgusting and quite sad. Erryl was very disappointed and wouldn't even take us into some of them. These seemed to be in areas that were all, should I say... on the line? Also, the flats themselves were all very unkept... even the vacant ones. We finally had one glimmer of hope at the last Foxton's property in St. Margarets. It was a newly updated 3-story flat with a great use of space and large closets. The draw back was that it was on an extremely busy street that had traffic 24-hours. Big deal, right? Well, yeah... when you don't have air conditioning and have to open the windows, it is. But, finally it was a relief to know that the entire day hadn't been a waste, we did find something that could kind of be a third choice.

So... off to the country we go. Cobham was about a 30-minute drive from St. Margarets. The high street was great - much more there than I was expecting. The country side was still part of the town. Great parks and walking areas and a refurbished mill that still operates on the weekends. As it turns out, Scott's commute would only be about 30-minutes longer because of fewer stops on the train.

We only had one house to look at in Cobham and made our way there. About a 15-minute walk from high street, and shorter walk to the train. The house was great. Just on the market. Only four-years old and much more like what Americans are accustomed to. Still a very English floorplan, but very bright with tons of windows and wooden shutters. A larger garden with deck and a garage. Though, it was a short walk to high street, a car would still be a little more necessary since things were a little more spread out.

After seeing this place, we went back to town and had a coffee. Many calculations later, commute debates, etc., we decided on Cobham. So, Erryl called and put our offer in and we headed back to London. Keep in mind that this is Friday and that we are in a panic to hear something because if this fell through, we didn't want to lose the house in Chiswick. Which we heard was about to receive an offer.

Finally about 6:00PM, we heard from Eryll. The property estate agent on the Cobham house called him and told him that the woman decided she wanted to pull the house off the market. Her agent was furious as she should be. A total waste of her agents time, Erryl's time and our time. Luckily, Erryl immediately called the agent for the Chiswick house and told them we wanted it prior to calling us. We are first in line and we've offered asking price. So, now all we have to do is wait. Since it was so late in the day, I'm sure we won't know anything until Monday. So, stay tuned! AND KEEP YOUR FINGERS CROSSED!!

Just Shy of a Week

Six days later and I am doing much, much better. We settled into our new place a few days ago and I've been able to breathe a little easier. We are staying in an apartment that is in a hotel high rise. It's small, but the amenities are nice, but still very hotel-like. The location is on the Albert Embankment, on the south side of the Thames. We can throw a stone across the river and hit Parliament and Big Ben. There's not much in the area, but we are a block from a great pub and a few more blocks to a row of restaurants that are built into the bridge under a train. Railway arches, I think they are called. Also in one of these arches is a large Vespa dealership. I'm sure Scott wants to walk up there during business hours to take a peek.

In the few days we've been here, I haven't been doing too much. The first full day, I rode the bus over to Trafalgar Square to meet Scott for lunch. Quick ride, about fifteen-minutes. After lunch, I walked with him to his office. It's in a really neat area called Seven Dials in Covent Garden. Very small streets, lots of shops... clothes a lot younger than I would wear, but love to look at. Some neat pubs and such. Saw his office, bought a couple pairs of shoes (hopefully they turn out to be comfortable ones) and then took the bus back "home." Traffic in Trafalgar Square was horrible. Not sure if it's prime tourist season or if it had something to do with Election Day... or maybe a combination. But, the ride back took a good half hour or more.

The next day, I stayed home to wait on the dogs arrival. We weren't sure what time they would arrive, but we didn't want to miss the delivery service. They showed up about lunchtime, a few hours early than we anticipated. All was good, they seemed happy to see us. Happier to go to the park. Extremely content to just curl up and go to sleep. Which, by the way... they still are. Other than the occasional potty break outside, they've been sound asleep. More sound than usual. Guess dogs suffer jet lag, too. We have also found them sleeping together a few times. Nothing they ever did before. I guess they now know the other one is comfort for them. It was a little snug in that bed last night. All four of us piled into a queen... not the king we are used to.

Today is Saturday. We had planned to go to Kew Gardens to see a photography exhibit, but the weather was a little damp. Since the exhibit is here for a few months, I told Scott we would go on a nice day. I can't go to Kew without my camera, and didn't want to chance taking it in the rain. So, instead, we ventured over to Oxford Street and went to John Lewis. I would compare it to maybe Macy's in NYC. Had a nice little lunch there, did a touch of shopping and then walked down to Selfridges. By this time, my baby aches were kicking in and I didn't really have much in me to walk around, but I can't wait to go back. Their home department was right up my alley. VERY COOL stuff. I'm sure out of my price range, but definitely worth going back and stealing some ideas.

I'm finding that I can only walk around and be out about three hours before I can't take it anymore. The doctor kept telling me that my fibroids would probably cause me some pain during my pregnancy, and I'm finally feeling it. So, my goal next week is to figure out how to get in with a midwife or doctor or whatever I'll be seeing. Looking forward to something stronger than tylenol.

I also want to make note of things I prefer here versus home. AND things I so desperately want to change for London/UK. First I'll start with some of the things that are great. Prepared food here is awesome. On a few nights we've been too tired to cook, so we've grabbed a few different prepared items. All delicious, all fresh. Everyone is very friendly, especially here in our hotel. I think we are becoming the favorites... although, I think the dogs have a lot to do with that. Fashion is fun, right now - especially for the young. I'm seeing things that I like and wish I were young and thin enough to wear.

Things I so desperately want to change. Quality and pride in construction. Everything that we've been to that has been remodeled or updated is totally half-ass. After doing a lot of remodeling on our own house, I can look at these things and tell that this isn't an expensive thing to do (or FINISH), I guess the same standards are just not there. Oh, and I HATE the washing machines here. If you aren't familiar, it's one unit. It washes, then it dries. The one in our apartment holds about five items and takes about two-hours just to wash. Then another two to dry. After all that time you would think the clothes would be the cleanest ever. No. My whites now seem to be gray, errr grey. I'm hoping the model in our next place will be a little better. I'm sure bleach exists in the UK, but I haven't found any, yet.

Okay, I think that's all for today. We start looking for permanent housing at the end of the week. So far on the list are West Kensington, Clapham, Maida Vale. If you have suggestions, shout them out!

it's an adventure, it's an adventure, it's an adventure

If you are a facebook friend, then you know we had a rough start here in London.

I didn't get a wink of sleep on the plane, so I arrived a bit tired and out of sorts. About an hour later, we arrived at the place we were to call home for the next four to eight weeks. This "home" was provided to us while we search for something more permanent.

The pictures we were shown looked great and they took pets (which seemed to be an issue). When we pulled up, I was impressed. An old building that was clean and kept, so far so good. Entered the lobby and my impression dimmed a little. The stroll down the hall to our room, my impression dimmed even more and by the time we entered our apartment, the light was totally out.

I, most times, have to adapt to the charm of other countries, mostly their amenities. I don't always see it right off the bat. I kept telling myself that as we strolled down the hall to our room. But, the dirty walls were having a hard time convincing me that this was some type of antiqued finish. I'll keep it short, but this place was dirty enough that I knew I couldn't take my shoes off there, much less sleep in that bed. This was definitely not old world charm. It was disgusting. This made any roadside Motel 6 look 5-star. I wasn't expecting large. I wasn't expecting new. I wasn't expecting stylish or posh. I was, however, expecting clean.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, maybe the fear of change... or all combined, perhaps. But, it lead to a break down. I told a friend that I never knew I was capable of crying so many tears. I was ready to head back to Heathrow and catch the next flight home. I didn't want to leave Scott behind, but I knew I couldn't stay there.

Of course we got here on a Sunday, and Monday was a bank holiday... so, we were on our own. Scott immediately got online and found us a place to stay for a few days until the relocation people were back in their office. We were able to delay the pet transportation for a few days until we knew what our situation would be. And we checked out of St. Mark's a few hours after arriving.

The place we've been staying at is clean, but it is not an apartment as advertised. It's a hotel room, basically... but, without service. I guess that's how they can call it an apartment. BUT... it's clean! And that's all I care about. Today, Scott got in touch with the relocation people and they found us another place on the Thames. We went and looked before booking. For the first time, I felt some relief. It was a nice place and we will be able to check-in tomorrow. The dogs should arrive on Friday.

Though I feel relief, I'm still not totally convinced we've made the right move. The emotion creeps back in at night, when Scott has fallen asleep and I can't. I sit here and worry about the dogs' flight over, giving birth here, being alone during the day. Mostly the being alone part. Everyone knows that I'm a talker, and though I am one, I have a hard time approaching strangers.

I read these expat forums and see how lonely some of these American women are in a foreign land... and some have been here for years. Though these forums are a wealth of information, but I sometimes think they cause me to worry more.

The new place doesn't offer much around it, but we did find a pub down the way. I expect I'll be a regular there during our stay since the food was very good. Possibly the best salad I've had in a long time. Maybe the permanent location will be in an area that has more neighborhood shops, and places to sit... maybe meet a few people. Once the baby gets here, I don't see myself maneuvering the tube very well with a stroller. It's amazing how many stations don't offer any type of handicap access. I've always thought that the UK was more forward than we in areas like that. They are certainly more green. And they definitely worry about fires, here. I mean... one big fire over 300 years ago and you gotta put fire doors on everything?

Okay, well it is late. I need to get up early and get our bags packed. Again. Maybe this BBC documentary on sandwiches will help me fall asleep a little faster.