Second day. (Don't miss it because it's a good one ;O) )
Following the breakfast routine imposed by the hotel :O), we woke up very early and went to the second meeting on foot.
It was rainy and cold, and we arrived so much in advance. The district was kind of nice but at the same time was getting worse & worse as we were approaching to the address and “my future neighbours” didn’t look that nice either.
In the meantime, Ms “Agency2” arrived and then showed us the two apartments.
Both were affordable but extremely dirty, one without garage, the toilet sink or the bath were cracked in both apartments… again we got a devastating image.
There was another flat in the same street that I had seen on internet and I liked very much but the agency seemed to be reluctant to show it to me all the times I called them from Spain. We stopped in front of the main door, just across the street and re-called the agency. She clearly stated that the owners (and probably herself) did not want to show it to me because as I did not speak French, I was not good enough for them.
No comments about my polite but strong and clear answer. You can imagine. Although during the conversation she revealed something that turned the flat into a “not that interesting one”, I felt frustrated and discriminated. (Well, I felt it because I was discriminated indeed).
The decision was made. The target: Cents (AND I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT MONEY). :O)
We kept walking to reach the main street and we found another agency. We got inside out of curiosity and an embittered Peruvian attended us.
“In Spain things are really bad, aren’t they?... Why do you come to Luxembourg?: the weather is horrible and we reach in winter -15°, -30° easily….”. To this point my mother stopped answering questions and educating this person: he was a lost case.
He wanted to show us after lunch a real hole that we had already dismissed on internet… in Cemetery Street. (I am afraid, this is not a joke…). ;O)
So, during his lunch time, we took a taxi to see the apartment in Cents from the outside (5 minutes ride cost nearly 40 €…), we called “Mr A” and his answer was “it has already been rented by somebody else this morning”.
OUR HEARTS SANK!: We passed from a lot of options to “maybe a hole at Cemetery Street”.
We started to call and enter all the agencies we were finding on the streets. I remember 3 good ones.
- The first one, was about to close for lunch. There was an Italian woman. I swear I never spoke Italian that well. What an accent! What a vocabulary! What a rhythm!
My mother stared at me astonished and the woman was really relaxed speaking in her mother tongue... and understood perfectly our needs BUT she had nothing available. At least, we got the first bit of sympathy from somebody in Luxi.
- The second one was with the most polite and wishful-to-help man we had ever seen.
The only problem is that he only spoke French and none of us spoke it, so we communicated in German.
It’s difficult to communicate in German when nobody speaks it, but we did it :P. He knew a bit and I started to remember the heading of one lesson to which I paid so much attention but did not fully understand at Goethe Institut, a looong time ago: DIE MIETE!
And both, speaking really slowly started talking about the only flat he had available. Names such as: das Wohnzimmer, die Miete.. Adjectives such as Frei and verbs like Zahlen came to my mind and we made an appointment (to be further confirmed with a colleague of his) for the next day.
It’s fantastic how much we could both improve our German skills in that conversation: we started just saying words but at the end of the conversation we were placing the verbs in the right pace as well as prepositions, adverbs, and articles. :O)
- The third one, which was the following morning, was with another Italian man who looked alike a gangster.
“Si lei ha un contratto, allora c’è un appartamento, se no, non c’è” and the apartment he showed us on his computer, apart from the fact that it did not appear on any map, (“Questo appartamento è vicinissimo!!. Ha un collegamento ottimo con il centro città!” and later on I discovered it was nearly in France…), had some… how to say it.. disadvantages. I’ll focus just on one of them: the toilet was ouside the apartment across the staircase of the building.But, according to his words: “Questo non è un problema per un uomo… magari per una donna!! Guardi, faccio un disegnino aprossimato di come è”…
No more comments. :O)
At the end of the evening a couple of young, polite, clean, handsome and super-tall guys showed us the last apartment of the day. Not good, not horrible. It was located in the first street parallel to the train railway. The entrance was “through a bar”, the parking was weird and had an elevator to place the car like in a bookcase “for cars”, but it was affordable, renovated and I could leave it when I wanted. (For the others I had to remain there minimum 2 or 3 years).
We said goodbye to them and went to the centre: we had nothing to do but waiting for the confirmation of the “wishful-to-help” man.
We did a bit of sightseeing, we went to the Cathedral, we prayed and lighted not a candle but a big one to Saint Anthony.