El albergue

El albergue

Saturday, October 1, 2011

A Place to Call Our Own

Finally, after about a week of searching for a place to live, we have an apartment that we can now call our own.  Thursday morning we went through the lease agreement with the landlady and the agent handling the deal, signed it, and were handed the keys.  The landlady, Olaya, a sweet little woman probably just under five feet tall, went through our new abode with us, explaining different things like appliances and the like, then came in and out a few times throughout the day bringing us sheets or a blanket or a new microwave turntable, or attending to some minor thing that hadn’t quite gotten fixed yet.  She lives right below us, so these numerous trips weren’t too much of a hassle, although she did say later on in the evening that she had gotten her day’s worth of exercise in going up and down the stairs.

La calle en que vivimos
So what does this new place look like?  Well, turning off the Plaza de España, you first see a cute little street with a few giant Christmas star lights hanging over the center that seem to stay up all year.  You pass by a couple of nearby cafes and restaurants that almost always have tables and chairs set up outside on the terrazas (basically just a larger sidewalk), and after the brilliantly colored theater across the street, you come to the door of our building.  We’re just inside, on the first floor, so we’re well sheltered from the heat of summer by the surrounding buildings and apartments.  That may mean we’ll get pretty chilly in winter, but I guess we’ll just have to see. 

As you walk through the door to our place, you see the tiny kitchen on the left, the first bedroom on the right, and the narrow hallway paved in rather interesting tiles curving away to the left, where it leads to the small bathroom, the cozy little living room area with the couches from a couple decades ago, and then the two other bedrooms.  My bedroom is one of these last two, with a window that lets in a fair amount of natural light over my bed when I don’t have the Persian blinds closed. 

At the Templo de Debod, which is just a pair of blocks away!
It’s a nice quiet neighborhood, with no great amount of traffic going by our building and no crowds of noisy people tramping about at night.  In all, it’s pretty calm.  In fact, this morning, we had some of our windows open, and we could hear the soothing strains of someone’s Frank-style music coming from an upper story somewhere.  Quite nice to go with a cup of tea.

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