After all, it happened. For the first time in three years, I skipped a Monday blog. And although the idea still bothers me a little, I know it was bound to happen one day, right? And if there was one week in which it was truly impossible to find even one single hour of time, it was last week.
When I got back to Milan on Thursday, it was time for something very special: signing the contract of my new house
After returning from Madrid late on Friday night, I left that Sunday in the morning for Bologna where, during two nights, we had the premiere of a beautiful Einaudi piano concert. On Tuesday, I travelled on to Florence – the photo above this blog was taken there – where we had another beautiful premiere. When I got back to Milan on Thursday, it was time for something very special: signing the contract of my new house. My very own casetta milanese. Less than five weeks after I landed in Milan on that Saturday the 29th of October, I scribbled my sign on the paper. But how did all of this actually happen? And had I not promised you that I would take you along on my house hunt in Milan? Well, I had!
The best-case scenario has come true that I could never even have dreamed of
I have a very good reason for not taking you along on my search for a house after all. The best-case scenario has come true that I could never even have dreamed of: there never really has been a house hunt. And yet, I have found my own place. I’m very happy to tell you all about how it went, not in the last place because I hope it may be an inspiration to anyone who is on the threshold of a new adventure and is still a bit wondering whether to jump or not.
Before I left for Milan, I hadn’t made any attempt to look for a house
Before I left for Milan, I hadn’t made any attempt to look for a house, despite numerous enquiries from friends and family, who seemed much more anxious about it than I was. However, my reasoning was: you have to visit a house before you rent it, and the market in Milan is moving so fast that there is no point in responding to houses right now. Hence, it was with full confidence about finding a place in Milan that I boarded the plane, but once I got here that confidence was greatly shaken. “Impossibile!”, I heard from all the Italians around me about finding a house here, “it easily takes a few months to find something”. Um, I didn’t have that time at all. In fact, I only had four weeks.
It was only on my second weekend in Milan that I got myself to check out those dreaded housing pages anyway
On top of that, as amazing as it was, my new job did make it very difficult for me to invest time in looking for houses, let alone visiting them. I had to go to Genova, then a week to Madrid, and then on to Bologna and Florence. Oh, and in the weekend I would go to Rome, where my belongings are still neatly stored. It was only on my second weekend in Milan that I got myself to check out those dreaded housing pages anyway, full of scammers and hidden fees, if I had to believe the Italians. After taking one look at them, I concluded the same: in this crazy housing market, all the power lies with the landlords.
And so, for no rational reason at all, I decided to just believe that things would ‘work themselves out’, to then go outside to have a coffee in the sun
Basta, I thought to myself, and I quickly closed the page. This was not the right energy with which I wanted to look for a house. And so, for no rational reason at all, I decided to just believe that things would ‘work themselves out’, to then go outside to have a coffee in the sun. That evening, I randomly saw a post on Facebook about a house that would be vacant as early as the first of December. The pictures definitely didn’t make a smashing impression, but I decided to respond anyway. The next morning, on Monday, I already had a response from the owner, asking me whether I could come and have a look the following Saturday. Um, no, I couldn’t, because I was going to Rome that weekend. And this house didn’t convince me enough to cancel my trip for it. Whether the house would still be available after the weekend, the owner highly doubted: he planned to do one single weekend full of viewings, and then choose someone. Something I completely understood.
A little after 10.30 am, I set foot in this apartment for the very first time
But the week progressed, and on Thursday I fell ill. And as my fever rose, so did the realisation that I couldn’t go to Rome that weekend. On Friday morning, just hours before I was supposed to take the train, I cancelled my trip, with pain in my heart. Suddenly, I remembered the house that I now would actually be able to visit. And so, it happened. On Saturday morning I dragged myself out of bed, dressed very warmly, took two paracetamol with my breakfast and set off for the Navigli, the cosy neighbourhood that is now my home. A little after 10.30 am, I set foot in this apartment for the very first time. And what I saw then, I will tell you next week…