Standing still for a bit
Well, here I am, and here I will be for at least six months, which is a sort of relief. Here is Cologne and more specifically, a very small flat (about which, more later) in the no-man’s land between Weidenpesch and Longerich, neither of which places is a heaving mass of people, culture and excitement, but it’s green and with an U-Bahn round the corner, everything is accessible, sort of.
The plan is to stay here for at least six months, which is longer than I have planned for about 18 months. It feels slightly odd, the prospect of staying in one place for a while, but I do hope I get used to it otherwise I will be doomed to schlepping my worldly goods between “good places to see about living in” and becoming increasingly odd. Well, odder…
This whole, epic traipse around some interesting places in western Europe started about 18 months ago. My son left home in Amsterdam to go to England to study and I thought it might be a good idea to leave home too. Home was, possibly still is, a small house in the centre of Amsterdam on which I have lavished time, blisters, energy, money and imagination over a fourteen year period of rebuilding and residence. I love my little house there but had fallen out of love with being in the Netherlands and felt it time to see where else I would like to spend a few years before settling down somewhere for good.
Having written the above, I am assailed by a huge wave of homesickness for my little house, for my friends, for my garden terrace. What was I thinking? What have I done?
Okay, what I have done was leave home, again, at the age of 54 (as I was then) in the hope of finding a new place to call home.
First stop was France, Strasbourg to be precise. An old friend had sort of offered, sort of bullied me into moving there to live in her house and help her run some association she had set up. I left in the October to spend two or three months there and see how it went. It seemed to go well and after a Christmas back in Amsterdam, I packed up my wordly goods, let out my little house, and moved to Strasbourg for what I thought would be about 9 months.
Big mistake. Shan’t go into details but it was a BIG mistake and by mid-April I was facing unemployment and homelessness, encumbered by those worldly goods and chattels I had taken with me and feeling rather desperate.
As a parenthesis, what I gained from France was lots of wine-tastings, some wonderful meals, French classes taught by the over-vowelled word nerd who was campaigning to bring back the use of the past subjunctive into the French language (fell in love with him because of his dedication to an utterly pointless cause) and an increased aversion to Brussels sprouts (my friend/landlady was in the habit of cooking them at six in the effing morning. And I thought I was odd).
I was rescued by friends and family, all very wonderful. I spent nearly two months in Cologne, lodging with the Divine Selma and discovering the city, then headed off for three months in Scotland, two with my sister in the Far North East, with glorious weather and haymaking and curtain making and the usual translation work to keep me in funds. Oh, and I finally got round to getting self qualified to teach English, thinking this might be useful.
Then back to Cologne for three months, as a tuba player’s lodger. Had my own room, Internet, access to a computer, heating and a lovely balcony to play on as landlord wasn’t there a lot of the time. And, there was a swimming pool round the corner, so it was all ideal, until, well, let’s just say it didn’t quite work out as it should have. Once again, I fled.
Christmas in Wiltshire with family, January on Skye with brother, painting the acres of knotty pine in the café he has since opened (to great success) and then back to Amsterdam to kick out appalling tenants and sort out house. Lovely to be back, horrid having to deal with HUGE damp problems, a large crack in the wall and the disposal of nearly all of the stuff I had stored in the room with the damp problems as it had all been ruined.
Got that all sorted and the house let again, this time to an agency which will do everything for me, repairs cleaning etc, and deal with the tenants so I can skip off into the sunset, carefree and with some dosh in my pocket.
And now I am back in Cologne, trying for the third time to see if it is the place to be for a few years. And I chose to come here, instead of fleeing from place to place, trailing boxes and suitcases, wondering if I managed to pack everything and hoping I can stop this stumbling about sometime soon.
So here I am, standing still for a while.