Dear Lord. It has been a crazy month of searching this little town of Münster for an apartment. We found one, we lost one. We saw some, we wished we hadn't. And then, I fell in love.
German apartments rarely come fitted with a kitchen. I don't mean that appliances aren't included, I mean NOTHING is included. The entire kitchen, cabinets and all, are often stripped when the old renter moves on to their new place. We walked into at least five apartments where the kitchen is nothing but a plumbing part for your sink. A sink that you're going to buy in a German DIY store, if only you can remember how to say "sink" in German. But you can't, and you will leave close to tears.
My new love was no exception. It was a half way renovated top floor flat in a historic building, in a historic neighbourhood, with a chocolate shop out the front door. We made a deal with the devil (not Claudia, but her older, meaner brother) and agreed to finish the renovations if they would guarantee that we could have the place. And that is where we now stand. My mathematically inclined husband has agreed to install flooring into a sensitive apartment and we're on the lookout for mineral paint so the exterior walls can breath - owner's orders. If there are any men out there who want an all expense paid trip to Germany in exchange for finishing our flooring once Aaron gets started on it, let me know. It will inevitably save us money and quite possibly a marriage. Deadly serious over here.
"Before" pictures coming up later today.
German apartments rarely come fitted with a kitchen. I don't mean that appliances aren't included, I mean NOTHING is included. The entire kitchen, cabinets and all, are often stripped when the old renter moves on to their new place. We walked into at least five apartments where the kitchen is nothing but a plumbing part for your sink. A sink that you're going to buy in a German DIY store, if only you can remember how to say "sink" in German. But you can't, and you will leave close to tears.
My new love was no exception. It was a half way renovated top floor flat in a historic building, in a historic neighbourhood, with a chocolate shop out the front door. We made a deal with the devil (not Claudia, but her older, meaner brother) and agreed to finish the renovations if they would guarantee that we could have the place. And that is where we now stand. My mathematically inclined husband has agreed to install flooring into a sensitive apartment and we're on the lookout for mineral paint so the exterior walls can breath - owner's orders. If there are any men out there who want an all expense paid trip to Germany in exchange for finishing our flooring once Aaron gets started on it, let me know. It will inevitably save us money and quite possibly a marriage. Deadly serious over here.
"Before" pictures coming up later today.
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