My house-hunting experience in Southampton
My house-hunting experience in Southampton
Before I headed for Southampton viewing my potential accommodation, I had to admit I had some rosy ideas about what kind of place and people I was going to share my space with. However, soon after I arrived in Southampton, those rosy ideas
fell into pieces.
The first flat I went to view was located in the middle of construction works. The owner of the property was an obese apathetic woman and she reeks. And all the
floor of her flat reeked of suspicious animal smell. Walking into her kitchen,
there were piles of dishes piled up in the sink, and in the available room the mattress was so filthy that you couldn’t even tell what the original color of the mattress was.
No sooner did I walk out the flat I crossed out the place from my list. I swear
I would much prefer turning down the offer from the company to staying at places
like this. But as the time moved on, my luck didn’t seem to change for any better. My friend’s mother quickly drove me to meet my second appointment of the day after my first taste of shock and disappointment.
The guy, the private landlord of three flats as least as far as I know, himself
was very nice and helpful. Actually it was him who contacted me first and recommended his three rooms to me on the phone. I was impressed by his obliging attitude and actually had high expectations towards his properties. But Good Grief, after viewing his tree flats, if I had to choose one among the three, I would have
to really think hard to pick the least disgusting one.
The carpets of all the three flats were equally filthy, and the dirt on those window sills, I swear, was at least years old, if not decades. And when I asked the gentile guy how many people I needed to share the bathroom with, he said four
or five. Four or five! Just imagine the hectic morning and everybody has to run
out for school or work. Besides, with the filthy facility available in those small bathrooms, I was not sure how I could ever get myself clean.
But this was not the end of the story. My flat-hunting experience came to an apex when I followed a dodgy guy to his studio apartment. Somehow he managed to reconstruct his original two-storey house into eight studio apartments. So instead
of one door bell, there were eight door bells at the entrance, each being individually named after the serial of the apartment numbers.
My friend and I were fortunate to have the opportunity to view the inside layout
of one studio apartment. It was on the first floor and inside the room there were cookers, sinks, beds, windows, bathrooms and everything that a standard studio apartment has. The cookers and sinks were less than one meter away from the bed, and the bed was less than one meter away from the window sill.
Basically the idea was if you fried your favorite food such as slices of bacon or sausages in the room, all your belongings in the room could have a taste of your food as well. Well, maybe the smell of it is a better way to describe it. My
friend and I looked at each other standing between the rusty electric cooker and the bed and went speechless.
Later on I viewed another three places, none of which was any better than the ones I viewed earlier on. With the lapse of time I gradually turned into despair.
Do I really have to live on my own in this strange place, and do I HAVE to choose one of these smelly and dodgy places? But gladly my fortune started to turn around later in the afternoon when I went to view a house, which was the last but
one on my list, at the outskirts of the city. Though the house was located quite
close to the local bus and train station, the insulation of the house blocked the noise coming from the construction works on the main roads, and there was even a small garden attached with the house. And the bathroom and everywhere else in the house were so clean! And the landlady was so nice and obliging as well.
Originally my friend and I decided that I would come to Southampton on my own first giving the cost of accommodation in Southampton was much higher than Cornwall. But this house helped us solve the problem as well. But the best thing of all
was we didn’t need to commit ourselves to anything, as the landlady agreed that we could pay the rent month by month. So my friend and I decided to rent the house straight way, without seeing the last one on my list.
This whole housing-renting experience was very interesting when I looked back. I
remembered the second person I met that day strongly recommended me to rent one
of his places, and the reason was because my flat mates were all Chinese. But you know what, that was the last thing I wanted to do. I saw in that kitchen the
big bag of Thailand rice lying under the table, suspicious sauces, pastes, and instant rice noodles by the oil-stained cooker, I couldn’t figure out why on earth that guy thought of me moving into this place was a good idea.
Anyway I think this record of my house-hunting experience could be potentially interesting to read for those who think life abroad is all rosy and easy as well.
No matter where you live and no matter where you originally came from, it is not important. What’s important is how you make out the life you want, at what extent you would have to say no to the reality, and then how hard you prepare to strive in order to change the unsatisfactory situation. Otherwise, no matter where you are, you are at the bottom always.
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