My first order of business this morning was to call the front desk at the hotel and book one more night. My head cold had worsened, which made me lazy about speaking French. Since I knew the hotel staff spoke English, I cut straight to the point. "We'd like to stay an additional night, if possible," I informed the receptionist on the phone. But he replied that there were no rooms free that night in the hotel. Hmmm, great. I hung up. Then I realized I didn't know the time for checkout. So I called back and this time he answered with a drawn-out "Oui?" to ensure I could detect his annoyance. More hesitant, but still in English I asked about checkout. Instead of answering, he told me that in fact there was a room available tonight, just a different one. Apparently, one became available in the last 30 seconds. But I didn't complain. I put together a list of the apartments that were my favorites so far. It didn't take long since there were only two of them. One was from the NY Habitats site which we probably couldn't see before renting and the other was the loft with the scary stairs which wouldn't be open until a week an a half. Not great options.
Geoff went straight to work. A party had been planned in our honor at his office at 4 pm so he figured he probably should show up for the day. Therefore I was charged with orchestrating the hotel room move which meant me moving five enormous, heavy bags from room to room or enlisting the help of the oh-so-friendly front desk. Anyway I figured I'd better get showered before I got kicked out. I had gotten in the habit of taking a very long shower with almost scalding water. It worked as well as the Claritin for my sinuses. While steaming in the shower, I heard the phone ring. I figured I should answer so I jumped out and grabbed the line. It was the front desk - we could stay in the same room. Fantastique! This day was definitely looking up.
On my way to Geoff's office, I got a mediocre grilled sandwich of trois fromages, but what do you expect from a place in Paris named "Snack Time"? Then I headed into the metro. Geoff had written me out detailed instructions so that I wouldn't end up making the same mistake he did the first day. The secret: Reuille Malmaison required both a combined RER and metro ticket. Without both you couldn't exit at your stop. Besides that confusion, the metro in Paris ran efficiently. Most of the tracks featured an electronic display listing the estimated time until the next arriving train. And it seemed I never waited more than two minutes for a train.
At Geoff's office, he introduced me to his officemate Patrice, a quiet 30-something guy who of course spoke perfect English. He wanted to know how the apartment search was going. Eh. We made some small talk and then Geoff showed me that he had gotten a message from Anne at NY Habitats and some of the apartments we had looked at were available immediately. Plus we could one see today. It wasn't my favorite, but it was better than renting sight unseen. In the meantime, a closer look uncovered that one of the apartments on my short short-list didn't actually have an oven - only a microwave oven. It made no sense - how could New York have a law about providing tenants with an oven, but not Paris? Really, what would be the point of a kitchen without an oven? How will Geoff cook a soufflé?
But then it was time for the party so we all gathered together in the conference room as they set up. The Franco-American spread included champagne, crackers, and Pringles. I wondered if foreigners to America would be met with such a nice welcome. One by one, I met his office mates. Some of them like Noel, a tall jovial fellow with a perpetual smile, and his serious foil Claude, I had already met at past functions. I started off in French but the conversation quickly eluded me. Not wanting me to be frustrated, Noel said I could talk in English. I knew it was just so much easier, but sad all the same. Next time it will be all French, he said. So for now, we spoke the rest in English - from the prices of real estate in Paris (insanely high) to the history of the company (sordid) to the method of how to saber a champagne bottle (tricky). It was definitely the first time I've been in a room with a majority of people who had used a saber to decork champagne.
During the party we got a phone call that we could meet the owner of one of the NY Habitat apartments at 6:30 pm to see the apartment. So from the Reuille Malmaison train, we headed straight to 9, place Saint-André des Arts in the 6th Arrondissement. Luckily we got there early because we circled around the "place" several times for 15 minutes before we found number 9. There we met Syvia, a 70-something woman dressed in an elegant pastel skirt suit and measuring 5-foot in heels. She had a nice tan and short blood hair which she later admitted to not being her natural color. She led us up to the apartment, pointing out the historic features along the way. The bottom of the building had the remnants of a fountain where residents would get their water. The wooden stairs must have been original or close to it because they were atrophied with age.
Sylvia led us up to the apartment. I had looked at the pictures online and suspected that the ceilings were not that high. I was right. As we got the tour, I realized another drawback was that although there were lots of windows, there was no view. All of them looked out into the courtyard, which was really just the other side of the building. The other drawback was the floors were a bit slanted - of course what do you expect from a building several hundred years old? Sylvia gave us her pitch and asked us what we thought. I was hesitant but I could tell Geoff was ready to take it. So she offered to give us 20 minutes alone in the apartment and she'd come back. We thanked her and agreed.
When she left, I took another tour. In many ways, it was a great apartment - nice size, very quiet, modern bathroom and kitchen with all the amenities - even, get this, a stove! It also had a dishwasher and washer/dryer. The location couldn't be better - right in the heart of everything. And she had decorated the apartment nicely. You could call it cozy. But could I live here for three months? It suddenly seemed like an eternity. Could I call this place home?
The reality was that I felt exhausted and sick and now Geoff, the same. Eating out every night was getting expensive and we wanted desperately to just settle in somewhere. If we took it now, we might be missing out on a better apartment for less money that we would find shortly after. But if we didn't, we might look another whole week and be in basically the same situation yet out even more money on hotel and restaurant bills. And it was a palace compared to what we had seen.
Our 20 minutes was almost up so we wanted to make a decision. Geoff's instinct was to take it and I was undecided. I would have preferred to do more research, but I realized time was of the essence here and I was ecstatic to be done looking. So we decided to take it.
When Sylvia returned, she told us how she had gone to get some gum and the salesman said, "Why are you buying gum? You're French" But actually Sylvia wasn't French born, she was Colombian. She spoke Spanish, French and English all as native languages. I didn’t know what else she spoke, and I didn’t know why the French don't chew gum. She was glad we wanted the apartment.
When we left, I still wasn't completely at ease. We went straight to the hotel so we could fax paperwork to the NY broker before the end of the day. At this point Geoff's sickness took over - turned out the steak tartar wasn't sitting too well. He went off to rest, and I to the front desk. Luckily it was a different receptionist. I figured he was French because he spoke French. I wasn't too proficient at discerning accents. In fact he was Arab, and loved Americans especially compared to Europeans. He believed they were much friendlier and easier to get to know. Turned out we had plenty of time for conversation, since the process of sending a fax at the hotel had been "modernized" to go through the computer. The process required scanning each page (5 minutes per page) and then faxing each page one by one. In between pages, he was often interrupted by guests asking questions or needing their keys. So it took quite some time.
Finally sent, I went back to the room. Geoff was up for a walk so we went out and got some ham and cheese crêpes. We'd gotten into this habit of eating really late and that night was no exception. It must have been at least 11 pm when we ate. Of course, that would be no problem if you were up for several hours later. But we were tired - it had been a long day and we needed to rest up for moving day. So we did.
Leave a comment