#linenea

Decadence to the max. The hotel room we'll be leaving in two days time, for better or worse, we don't know.

We started off with swinging by an electrical store to get some adapters, where we met our first proper old English "gubbar", who called us love and had calendars with naked ladies hanging most visibly on the wall of their very public store.  We then made our way north on the jubilee line, got off at Swiss Cottage, and met up with our future landlord Tai. He showed us around a modest three bedroom flat spread out over two floors in a typical North London apartment building. The room of interest was on the top floor next to the hallway and the kitchen, with a small balcony attached and enough room to fit two beds and generous storage possibilities. We were immediately impressed with the size of the room, and the proffesional air of Tai himself, who works as an actor recording film and TV. The other roommate was away on business in Los Angeles, and is a musician by trade. We feel we will fit right in. We declared our extreme interest, and a couple of hours later, Tai wrote to us saying we would be welcome to move in! A holding fee was transferred, and our relief was enormous. We actually have a place to live!! Our only real concern is that the current tenants will move out on the 27th, at the very latest, which would leave us roomless for about two weeks. They might be persuaded to move a little earlier, but still, a week on the street doesn't sound too compelling. We guess that staying in a sleeping hall is an experience you should have at least once in your life. After a couple of unfruitful visits to several different banks, we realised that a national insurance number had to be next on our list. We called and rather smoothly booked a meeting with the usually rather slow moving government agency for the end of the month. We then headed back to home base for a couple hours of rest and a chance to sort out our resumes. With the CVs in hand and our makeup adapted to the approaching evening we headed out into the darkening autumn day. Our friend Natalie from back in Sweden has gotten a job in a creperie in Covent Garden market, and on our way to meet her we went into a few stores with signs in their windows.  The thing about central London is that the things you don't expect would happen because they are too cliché, are the things that actually do happen. In this idyllic, old market hall a quintet of string players performed various classical pieces for pennies and pounds, with great gusto which acquired them a captive audience. In the next row of the market hall, a physical actor imitated Charlie Chaplin as the tramp, embarrassing his audience members by making crude jokes and making them laugh by doing a good job of it. When we walked passed Leicester Square we witnessed a sermon being preached by a most passionate man on a stool. Things like these that seem so foreign to us sensible, modest tourists. We picked up Natalie and walked with her trough crowed streets, peering into restaurant windows and trying to find one with a table for three. Finally settling down in a little mediterranean place, we shared a bottle of white wine, had some delicious food, and discussed tips and tricks for starting your life anew. We gushed over people we've met, and got excited over things we plan on doing. With our heads comfortably buzzing, and our concerns over banking and mobile options distinguished by Natalie's expert personal experience, we made our way back to Sussex Place and our top floor room. Giddy over how easy things would be, we laid ourselves to rest with good conscience over a day well spent. 

Handelsbanken are being little shits. We steal wifi and try to figure out how much jail time breaking and entering their offices would get us.

1. Oystercard top up 2. British bank account 3. Mobile subscription 4. Estate agents office visit Result: 1.Our oyster cards are now topped up with a week of unlimited travel (within zones 1 & 2) but other than that, not much else has been accomplished today. 2. The international office of the Swedish bank (where one of us already has an account) was not an open office as we had thought, and so getting a British account will be a bit harder than imagined. We are waiting for a call back to arrange a meeting, which we hope will happen as soon as possible, because... 3....to buy a mobile subscription you need one of those. The very nice man at the Vodafone Paddington store informed us of which deal to get, so at least we have that knowledge. 4. As for the estate agent, well, let's just say the shadiness was palpable. At a small back alley off Kensington high street, in what seemed to be a regular house where people live, two albeit very lovely ladies, received us (after 40 minutes of waiting) with suggestions of studio apartments that would fit our budget. They all seemed well and fine enough, small and dingy but that was what we had expected, but then she explained how it all worked. If we wished to get in contact with the landlord/lady of any of the properties, we would have to pay a fee of £119 to receive their information. If we didn't find any of the apartments suitable we could request the details of another landlord/lady. This could go on for as long as 3 months, and then we would have to pay again. The way she stated it though, made it clear that you should take the first, best apartment you tripped over and so essentially pay a weeks rent extra. Which only sounded a bit extensive, but then we remembered the fact that we arranged a viewing of a room that sounds perfect, over the Internet, for free, and then we almost completely ruled out this option. We'll see what happens. It'll all turn out alright. (Or so we keep trying to convince ourselves)

Inside the belly of the beast, looking out towards the jewellery box that is the city we now reside in.

So.. Yeah.. That’s about it for now. Tonight I’ll go back to my childhood home for a typical swedish get-drunk-and-scoff-crayfish-party with the old neighbours. Wish me luck!