I rarely have trouble sleeping. It’s a trait of mine some envy. Siobhan envies it. Once I hit the pillow she claims I’m out within twenty minutes. For her, it can be up to an hour or more.
When we moved to the centre of Seville, we noted how quiet our street was despite many of the Old Town’s tourist traps within a ten-minute walk away. In the beginning, we loved that our street retained its local charm during peak tourist months. It was our street. It was our escape from the centre.
Imagine our annoyance when a bar specialising in entertaining tour groups opened up a few doors down. Gone went tranquil nights; replaced by loud clusters of groups from all over the world. They poured out onto our street, delighted at the ‘show’ they had just been treated to, and boy were some of them loud. I remember being woken up by one such group at around 2am on a work night. I rarely wake up in the middle of the night.
The cons began to outweigh the pros of our flat, and that’s before we even mention the issues surrounding a handyman who often took weeks to come out when something had gone wrong. At the time of typing, he still hasn’t painted over the holes in the wall he filled in 14 months ago.
‘Can you come this week?’ ‘No.’ ‘What about next week?’ ‘OK.’ ‘Perfect. Friday is better for us as we don’t often work on Fridays.’ ‘Ok. Next Friday.’ Said Friday arrived and left, leaving us frustrated at having a perfectly good afternoon off ruined waiting for someone who said he would come. Incidents like these have become a part and parcel of why we have decided to move.
And so we began to search. Forget daft.ie back in Ireland, queuing up to view flats with countless other couples and needing a good reference. All we needed was proof of income, and the courage to pick up the phone and chat to someone in Spanish!
There were some flats that caught our eye instantly. The one we eventually settled on in the Macarena area of Seville looked almost too good in the images. With more space for lower rent, it seemed almost too good to be true. Add in bigger bathroom, more appliances, and access to a roof so we could wave goodbye to dampening up our old place thanks to drying our clothes inside, we started to hope and pray it wouldn’t be snapped up.
As soon as we visited it, we knew we wanted it. The initial photos had done it justice. Our soon-to-be landlord, Javier, also appeared to be someone with his head screwed on, as we have heard some nightmarish stories involving both Irish and Spanish landlords.
A few hours ago we signed the contract and picked up the keys. With hope we will be moved in completely by the end of the month, ready to receive guests and who knows, ready to welcome a furry companion.