I’m at work now, but I’m happy to share later. There was a Kazakh family (new immigrants), a Syrian guy (there for medical school), a “stripper” with a large butt implant (on paper, but really she was a prostitute; not judging), an Italian guy (graphic design exchange student), and more. Usually every few months there would be a new flatmate.
All to say the apartment was definitely illegal, but I was young and couldn’t afford much.
No lie, about a decade ago I rented a room in a long-term AirBnB in NYC where the other 3 rooms were also rented out (so no choice in flatmates; shit was wild). One of the other rooms was rented by this 30-yo French girl from Paris who moved there to follow an ex-bf. Off the bat she was weird; she only ever cooked pan seared liver, toast, or white rice while talking about how she planned on getting this guy back. She would also always argue in French with the Belgian dude who was also renting a room while finishing his masters. Anyway, the kitchen was minimally stocked, so I bought an extra pot, pan, and a toaster oven. She would use the toaster oven but left plastic bags of bread on top, so it melted and ruined the toaster. She also burned rice into the supplied pot every day. It got so damaged after only a few weeks that I had to hide my pot from her, as she systematically destroyed every other piece of kitchen equipment and tried to move onto my personal belongings.
I have several stories from that AirBnB alone. Weirdest 10 months of my life.
How else are they supposed to land grab for future seaside vacation homes?
Smack the like button like your parents smacked you.
You don’t frighten us, English pig-dogs! Go and boil your bottoms, sons of a silly person!
TIL you can trademark everyday words in the NL. I need to read more about this!
Edit: turns out this is why
Dutch is so whimsical. I personally giggle at winkelwagen. Winkel = shop, wagen = cart. Also, love that they say helaas pindakaas, meaning “that’s too bad”, but if literally translated means “unfortunately, peanut butter.”
Fair enough, not everyone will have the same experience. The busses can suck; at least the metro is tidy and runs well. My cousin in Georgetown doesn’t have a car, and he manages to travel to and access everything he needs, including going out to Potomac or Silver Spring. Going east/west is tricker, but on the flip side DC is rather small for a major city, and they’re building the purple line. Public bikes and scooters are also everywhere which is nice for visitors. Additional bike lanes and connectivity is needed for sure.
Compare to Baltimore, where they have the one metro line, which is broken half the time.
I can probably offer some insight, as my in-laws live in Wimbledon, some of my family live both near and far from DC/Baltimore, and I live in the Netherlands.
My London experience is on par to yours. Everything is walking distance and the things that aren’t are accessible by public transit fairly easily.
The Netherlands imo is even better planned and connected than the UK. The convenience store is around the corner from my townhouse. Two large chain supermarkets are just a 3 or 7 minute walk depending on which is preferred (the 7-min one is pricier but better selection) and there are more a few more minutes walking. The bus stop is 3 min away, train is a 10 minute walk. Parks and bike lanes all around.
DC is also very walkable and similar to London. Bike lanes. Everything is accessible and public transit is pretty good. Lots of convenience stores, small grocers, and even some larger chains. A few metro lines even go far out to the suburbs. I like the building height limit, which makes the city feel more open. Rock Creek Park is massive and you feel like you’re in the forest.
Once you get to the suburbs there may be a convenience store a 10-20 minute walk away, or a grocer if you’re lucky, but generally this is when you’ll be needing a car, as public transit becomes scant. Many Americans are walking averse; my husband and I are the odd couple that parks at the back of the lot when visiting Costco instead of spending half an hour hoping to get a spot by the doors. Most stores will be in plazas or strip malls.
My father lives out in the country. He loves having acres and acres of no one around. His house is an island. There’s one 7-11 in his tiny village. He’s lucky it’s a 5 minute walk from his house. If I want to get groceries when visiting, the nearest store is 8 miles away (a leisurely 4 hour walk; 10 minute drive). Oftentimes there are no sidewalks; mostly long stretches of road with big shoulders. I don’t think there’s public transit there; I’ve never seen a bus. There are farms everywhere so parks need to be driven to, however, they are pretty big with lots of room for activities.
It’s likely not too different from comparing London to Dartmoor. Much of it depends on where you are (population density). Some areas have great public transit and access to services, others don’t.
For sure. Canada too. Actually, the whole continent could use a tune-up and some anti-corruption updates.
I agree. I currently live near den Haag and the food leaves something to be desired. Kind of a surprise that a country so close to France - a culinary pinnacle - hasn’t picked up a thing or two.
I’ll be fiiiiiine
Sounds like he watched War Inc.
I got this exact pair for my SIL two Christmases ago. She didn’t like them at first, but they were such a hit at her Uni that she loves them now.
When my husband and I had two cats both would refuse to come when called, but one would always come running when we called the other. Ya know, because, “Why are you calling the other cat? Hmm? Giving him something tastier than you gave me?”
I’m wondering if I should make a few separate posts about these, but for now let me tell you about the stripper/prostitute; we’ll call her Ana.
I’ll begin by describing this apartment. When you opened the front door you saw a long wood floor hallway. Every door was on the right. First there was a bedroom, then the bathroom, another bedroom, then the kitchen, another bedroom, and my room was at the end. No living room whatsoever.
When Ana was moving in she only had a few pieces of luggage. I invited her to my room to get to know her, offering to make her some tea. She accepted and while she’s telling me how she works at a strip club near midtown she’s eyeing up my room. Pretty quickly she notices one of my windows has a fire escape; the window facing the front of the building. It’s spring so the window is open. To her that was an invitation. She climbed out and started yelling down at the passersby while twerking. At this point I got a good look at her body; I mean it’s not like I didn’t notice she was curvy before, but now I could clearly see the butt implants. I started to put two and two together. After wrangling her back inside, I diplomatically moved us to the kitchen.
Later that week, early one morning, I heard screaming down the hall, but an unfamiliar man’s voice. Apparently she brought a “client from the strip club” home. Guess he wanted a little extra that morning without having paid. Ana pepper sprayed him as he retreated into the hall, and the first person to run out to the commotion was the French girl. She got pepper sprayed inadvertently. The guy quickly left, the girls got into an argument, and me and the rest of the residents stayed in our rooms until it became dead quiet. Ana was gone next month.