Exit Rotterdam, stage right
Dec. 28th, 2011 12:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
janestarzWay too early we caught a train going North and we arrived at our old apartment around 8.15. NoKey still wanted to change the locks. Apparantly he's changed them when his ex moved out or something, but now he still has six keys for the old locks. Whatever. It would solve the problem of not having to get his sister's keys back for the second inspection, which he had of course forgotten to ask her.
The locks were changed easily enough and we took the other keys off our rings. I did the bathroom floor with a wet rag to get rid of the final dust, and NoKey took the last lamp down. By the time the inspectors entered at nine we were well finished.
NoKey signed off, the female inspector assured me she'd 'set everything to 0' (if we hadn't removed the tiles or equalised the floors we'd have to pay a thousand euro fine to have them do it for us, and every thing on their list had a price next to it. These prices were all removed at the second inspection so we're fine when it comes to the fine). The male inspector frowned a lot at our fungoid bathroom. That's what you get for having a very nearly ventilation-less apartment building, sir. Yes, the plaster is coming off the walls, good luck with that. It wasn't like he was giving us hell over it, he was just making a tally of the state of the apartment and the things that needed fixing before the new arrivals.
And we closed the door behind us, never to return.
Big stone off our backs, I can tell you, and I dozed a bit in the train home (by way of Utrecht, thanks to an accident/suicide near Lage Zwaluwe).
In the afternoon we cycled to Oisterwijk, where our movers are situated. Tomorrow we'll get our new couch, and they'd promised us the use of the window-suckers*. Our front door is probably wide enough but the livingroom door isn't, so all the large furniture has to come in through the window. Thank goodness it isn't snowing.
Oisterwijk is a half-hour drive by bike, and we enjoyed the countryside. Soon enough we were on our way home, plus a few bird-feeding tidbits, some straw for the compost barrel, and the said window-suckers.
And Gasp! NoKey's shopping on Funda, looking for a new house. Well, I guess that's what standing in a bit of sewage water does to a man. We had another sewer incident when he was showering last night. I joked and said we'd have to buy a "klus-huis" so we can make sure the pipes for the bathroom are laid correctly. I fear he might take me up on that.
Me, I'll just use the upstairs toilet and hope there won't be any more incidents with flushing the toilet.
------
*) There's probably an official term for these things, but I sure don't know it. It's the handlebar you press onto the glass of a window that needs removing. It 'sucks' vacuum onto the glass so you can lift the window out. All the downstairs windows are solid glass without any hinges, so we can't just open a window to get the couch in.
The locks were changed easily enough and we took the other keys off our rings. I did the bathroom floor with a wet rag to get rid of the final dust, and NoKey took the last lamp down. By the time the inspectors entered at nine we were well finished.
NoKey signed off, the female inspector assured me she'd 'set everything to 0' (if we hadn't removed the tiles or equalised the floors we'd have to pay a thousand euro fine to have them do it for us, and every thing on their list had a price next to it. These prices were all removed at the second inspection so we're fine when it comes to the fine). The male inspector frowned a lot at our fungoid bathroom. That's what you get for having a very nearly ventilation-less apartment building, sir. Yes, the plaster is coming off the walls, good luck with that. It wasn't like he was giving us hell over it, he was just making a tally of the state of the apartment and the things that needed fixing before the new arrivals.
And we closed the door behind us, never to return.
Big stone off our backs, I can tell you, and I dozed a bit in the train home (by way of Utrecht, thanks to an accident/suicide near Lage Zwaluwe).
In the afternoon we cycled to Oisterwijk, where our movers are situated. Tomorrow we'll get our new couch, and they'd promised us the use of the window-suckers*. Our front door is probably wide enough but the livingroom door isn't, so all the large furniture has to come in through the window. Thank goodness it isn't snowing.
Oisterwijk is a half-hour drive by bike, and we enjoyed the countryside. Soon enough we were on our way home, plus a few bird-feeding tidbits, some straw for the compost barrel, and the said window-suckers.
And Gasp! NoKey's shopping on Funda, looking for a new house. Well, I guess that's what standing in a bit of sewage water does to a man. We had another sewer incident when he was showering last night. I joked and said we'd have to buy a "klus-huis" so we can make sure the pipes for the bathroom are laid correctly. I fear he might take me up on that.
Me, I'll just use the upstairs toilet and hope there won't be any more incidents with flushing the toilet.
------
*) There's probably an official term for these things, but I sure don't know it. It's the handlebar you press onto the glass of a window that needs removing. It 'sucks' vacuum onto the glass so you can lift the window out. All the downstairs windows are solid glass without any hinges, so we can't just open a window to get the couch in.
