So yeah, I know I’ve been complaining about how HOT it is here, and how we can only somewhat cool down the living room in this house. Then yesterday, on the longest – and also hottest – day of of the year, the gas water heater conked out. And while you might think it’s quite nice to take a cool shower after coming in from a power walk (and it is) it’s another thing not to be able to take a proper shower in the morning with at least warm water. Not to mention we’re now boiling water to do the washing up. And still no word on when this will be repaired…

I’ve tried, I really have. But basically every encounter with my landlords over the past year or so has ended up being an incredibly stressful exercise in frustration. From the beginning they didn’t seem inclined to do basic repairs, but the first real confrontation started with the now infamous “split scenario” which began here and ended up becoming a full-on disaster here. Later on they refused to replace the (very old!) oven after the door fell off, telling me to buy new one and then “take it with you when you leave”. Nice. Presumably I shouldn’t let the door hit me on the way out. Other reasonable requests for repairs have also gone ignored.

I’m so sorry now I ever agreed to the “quick fix” split solution as they have used this against me ever since … “but it’s what you wanted Shawn!”. Well, no. It wasn’t. And they know that. I had actually wanted the option of a split in the living room so I didn’t have to always heat/cool the entire apartment. I didn’t foresee that agreeing to the split last summer would mean they would take this as not having to repair or replace the central system, which died in July. Blah blah… it kept going on.

Later on I signed a new contract for a year, at a higher rent, thinking that it would at least give me time to find somewhere else. But when things started heating up here (+45º!) it meant that we were reduced to living in two rooms as the inadequate split just barely keeps the living room below 28º even when left on all day. This means that Peter can’t even be in his room upstairs for more than 5 minutes, and now has to sleep on the sofa. And my room next to the living room is also an oven. So I tried one last ditch attempt to set things right here. I arranged a meeting with the landlords, myself and Peter… and a bilingual friend who would help make sure that nothing got “lost in translation”. But in the end this didn’t help, because two days later I received notice that I would be getting the heave-ho after the present contract runs out in February. You see, the landlords seem to think they could be getting LOTS MORE MONEY from this property. They even spoke about AirBnB-ing it. Boy are they in for a surprise.

And so… I am once again house hunting. Luckily I have a few months to find somewhere that I hope will feel like home. But already seeing places with – for example – that bathroom up there, gives me hope. That bathroom is twice the size of the dark and cramped “under the stairs” room I’ve put up with for 6.5 years.

Meanwhile, the hot water heater stopped working yesterday. Oh joy. Still waiting to hear if that is going to be repaired…