After three days in Granada, my feet are sore, I’ve treked over every inch of this city and Matt and I have finally found a place to live. It all started on Thursday, they day after we arrived in Granada when we proceeded to walk around the area surrounding the Universidad de Granada, planning on pulling little pieces of paper off flyers posted on phone boxes, kiosks and other places where things may be posted. As easy as we thought this may be, especially considering the university is just about to end for the term, we ended up with five little pieces of paper and one prospect.
Later as we were killing time before going to see this apartment, I stopped by the school in which I will be taking my spanish classes. It’s an intensive language school called Don Qujote and is geared towards teaching foreigners spanish. They were just about shut for the day, but there was one professora still there who was happy to answer our questions. All I wanted to know was when to show up for my first class, but Matt begun to grill here on everything from where to live, what to pay, and any job prospects. It was already 7:30 in the evening and she finally turned around and said, “Sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me because I really want to get home.” She managed to be a great resource for information telling us that the piso (apartment in spanish) we were looking at was way over priced.
After that we walked back to the piso, stopping for a cerveza and tapa on the way, and met the lady. She had such a thick andalucian accent that I swear she spit in my face no less than two or three times and Matt had a hard time understanding her. After she told us that in September the rent would be increased to 195 euros a month plus 45 for gastos (bills), we tuned out on the conversation. During our home hunt, as much that goes over my head when speaking to people, I’ve gotten very good at my numbers and prices and such…I’m not thick. After the whole conversation…the lady turned to me and asked me something, but I just wasn’t paying attention. She then asked me (in english) if I understood her and that she could speak english if I wanted, but again her accent was so thick I thought se was still speaking spanish.
After that we retired for the day accepting the fact that we were at square one but with an enlightened insight into the housing market in Granada.
The next day we got and early start and covered all the areas we had not looked (which was well over half the city.) Again the flyers were few especially considering someone had decided to clean all the phone boxes off overnight! After walking around for a good six hours with a brief siesta con cerveza y tapa, we were about to go back to the hostel when I spoted a small handwritten flyer on a rather barren telephone box in the Plaza Neuva. We ran to the closest locotorio (aka Moraccan phone house or a shop with a bunch of janky phone booths -- sometimes computers and souvenirs too -- so immigrants can call home for cheap) and rang the number. The girl gave us directions and told us to come by anytime before six. It was out of the town center, but it seemed a steal of a deal...only 100 euros a month all inclusive, and we’d be sharing the place with two girls and a guy.
Apon arrival in this little suburb, it seemed quaint enough and was a short enough bus ride from the town center. We found the street no problem after asking a police man who threw in a free map and when we walked up and knock on the door, there was no answer. Thinking this was funny, because the girl had told us to stop by anytime and not wanting to waist the bus fare we decided to grab another cerveza y tapa and try again in a bit. After sticking out like sore thumbs in the bar, we strolled back and knocked again…still no answer. After a couple more knocks and peering into the living room trying to see what the place may have to offer we were just turing around to go home when we saw this girl in the distance running down the street in a frenzy, hair flying, loosing a shoes in the process and seemingly shouting at us. “Sorry,” she said, “I was just down at a friends house dancing.” Alright, I thought, whatever that’s an euphemism for in Spain, not sure I’d like to know. As she was still trying to catch her breath she showed us in and the first thought was the living room was nice, two couches and a guitar, not bad. And then into the kitchen; a little small and well loved, but doable. We then sat down at the table and she offered us a drink, coffee or tea. Being the good guy Matt in and sensing I didn’t want to stay there any longer then we had to he politely said that we had to go look at another piso after this, so thanks, but no thanks. She then continued the “tour” out onto the “patio.” Once outside I realized that this patio seemed to be somewhat of a room whose outside wall had seemingly been knocked down to give the appearance of a patio. RIGHT…I’m thinking. Then it was up the stairs to the room. Top of stairs were dark and there was a mattress on the floor with a curtain. “This is it,” the chica loca said. I’m so proud of the way Matt kept a straight face because I know he was thinking exactly what I was…you must be taking the fucking piss. (sorry mom…it was just the best way to put it.) Proximo, el baño. It consisted of a sink and two taps for the shower, whose head protruded out of the ceiling and….drum roll please…no door. As it was there was no toilet, but there had been one down stairs…this girl was crazy, but not crazy enough to have an outhouse. Next it was back downstairs to the place where we could study, which was the very front room/entryway with consisted of a small table, two bikes, and a fireplace full of trash. Right…like I’m going to leave my laptop here in front of your open window. God, you are thick! I knew Matt was about to go off the deep end, but he managed to keep a straight face just long enough to say we’ll call you tomorrow and let you know. We weren’t even around the corner before we looked at each other and burst out laughing. We came down to the conclusion that I guess you get what you pay for and that it was totally worth the .95 cents on the bus, just to see the place for the comedic value.
Once back in town, we debated whether to buy a four euro bottle of whiskey and coke and get blitzed or just go out for tapas at 1,50 euros and get dinner for free. They way it works: the beer is 1,50 and then they give you the tapas. We chose option B. The next morning we woke up totally disheartened because we were back at square one again. After looking for any new flyers, we decided to go to the internet café and check out loquo.es, Spain’s version of craigslist! Matt walked in sulking with his head down, but I was checking out if there were any flyers on the door. Sure enough, there was a number for a room in an apartment at 200 euros a month, so we quickly called and the guys said it was big enough for two people and that we could come by at 6 that evening. We killed the day calling more numbers and setting up another place to look at and finding a place to sleep as the hostel was all booked. After this we strolled down to the place which lays in the shadow of an old church where a wedding was going on. The plaza was littered with rose petals and children chasing each other about and giggling. The piso had great character with walls the same color as the church and artwork in every corner. The guy was super nice and said it would be his room we’d be renting and that he lived with an Italian guys who was never there because he works. It was perfect and we told him we were almost sure we’d like to take it we just had one more place to look at.
We hike up the hill leading out of town because that is where the other place was. It was super nice with a huge patio and marble floors, but just too expensive and out of the way. On the way back we call the first guy and told us we’d take the place, so now we just have to find a place to stay for ten more days and it’s ours on the 25th of May.
Today being Sunday, Spain is sleepy with only a few tapas bars and souvenir shops open. Matt is dropping his resume off and I’m working on find work tutoring english. Off to our favorite tapas bar for some chill time. ¡Hasta lugeo!
