Sad Stories

I know my life is too awesome to complain, ever, and that's almost part of the problem - I think there might almost be a human need to complain and feel sad sometimes and if you don't have enough reasons to you start to go a little bit crazy. ;)

Nevertheless, I do have two sad stories to rant about -

First of all my apartment search might finally finally be settled. This has been a long time coming. I love how you have to go to all those Study Abroad prep things and they tell you about culture shock and homesickness and maybe a bit about how getting a VISA sucks, but neglect to mention things like how difficult it will be to find accommodation if you are on one of the programs that doesn't include it or at least help you get it sorted out.

I think part of the problem for me is that I've never looked for an apartment even in the U.S., so I'm not sure what I'm doing on any level. It's also so convenient that I'm doing my 'hardest' study abroad program first - as soon as I get the hang of this sort of thing they'll start doing it all for me in Germany and Norway. But even controlling for all of this, it has been a challenge.

UNAV has listings of accomodations somewhere on its website, so I went through all of those and a lot of them looked great! Reasonably cheap, good location, internet, basically just fine all around. So I started sending out emails... and more emails... and more emails. 90% of them never responded, 8% told me it wouldn't work for x or x reason (they've already found someone, need someone for a full year, etc... thank you to this 8%!), and most maddeningly of all, several told me that it should work fine, but when I then replied to this email, they never replied again - even if I sent reminders etc!!

I was getting desperate. I started this process in mid-summer, and by the time I had to start travelling I was no closer than I had been at the beginning - and the number of listings was starting to dwindle as I got closer to the start of the semester. It came to the point where I had replied to just about every suitable listing under Pisos Compartidos (shared apartments). Then I got the idea to look for a place in a 'family house', even though the real meaning of that confused me - some of the listings seemed to describe homestays while others described basically Pisos Compartidos. ?? Still, some of them seemed okay, so I sent emails to all of the decent ones. It was my last shot before I was going to call my program coordinator in Spain and cry, or else just show up in Pamplona and see what I could do.

The next morning (geeze, they were faster than the apartment people!), I had several new emails. Rejection, rejection, rejection, rejection - and then, the very last one - seemed as though it would work. I replied, they replied again! It seemed like a go, until we got to the issue of payment. They said I should just transfer them the deposit. I didn't really know how to do that, but they said it was easy and gave me their account number. Allan agreed that it was easy - called direct debit and just a simple matter of transferring money from me to them - but I didn't know any of the terms he was throwing around, in English or in Spanish. Admittedly, I was ignorant even about how this worked in America, but hey, we had renters at the lake, and they always sent us checks. Didn't it work that way here?

I called my mom and then my bank. No one had heard of direct debit, all recommended wire transfers, which run about 50$ and would require my mom to go to the bank in person, and for me to have lots of personal bank information from the landlady. Lovely. I called my study abroad coordinator, and he basically told me that yep, direct debit is super easy but only Europeans get to use it, everything has to be much harder for Americans, so wiring the money is probably my best bet.

Knowing this, I sent another email to the landlady, apologizing for the delay and complication (and feeling that she must be feeling that she could get a Spanish or European renter much more easily) and talking about options. I offered to pay all of the money at once, in cash, when I arrived in Pamplona, and considering the other options... she accepted. Really this is ideal, because I can see the apartment before handing over the cash (although unless its a hell hole I'm honor obliged to go through with it), and don't have to overly involve my mom, pay for the money to be wired, etc.

So, this has been a lot of fun basically but thanks to a lot of helpful people and most of all my future landlady's patience, looks like I'm finally okay where this is concerned.


The second sad story is about my boots. If you remember, I've wanted hiking boots for a while and finally impulsively bought some online some time before leaving on my trips. The boots were a bit... less hardcore... than expected, but they were also lighter weight, cuter, more comfortable, and cheaper. Well, I completely fell in love with them during the walk. They kept my feet cozy, warm and comfortable and proved completely waterproof despite loads of abuse. And then it happened...

Like stereotypical backpackers, Lucia and I got into the habit of tying our boots to our backpacks when we needed a break in our less restrictive shoes, and this worked fine throughout the walk. I would tie the boots to each other and to the bag, and in this way they withstood miles of hiking and numerous bus rides, no problem. At the end of our journey, with one more bus ride to go, (from Inverness to Edinburgh), I tied them up just like before and put my bag in the cargo hold, which wasn't to be opened until the bus arrived in Edinburgh. Allan and I both saw the shoes tied onto the bag when we put it in the bus.

In Edinburgh, I put on the bag and realized within a minute or two that there was only one shoe attached! I looked all over the ground and inside the bus, but it was nowhere to be found. :( Of course, I have one of them left, but one shoe isn't worth much, so it's really a sad state of affairs. What I can't puzzle out is what possibly could have happened to it. It would have been strange enough for it to manage to untie itself, but even then how could it have gotten away? No one would steal a single boot, and it would seem weird for anyone to take it accidentally, either. It couldn't have fallen out at other stops, because that compartment wasn't opened until Edinburgh. It basically vanished.

It sucks, because if I had left it somewhere, I could blame myself and it would be fair. If I'd been overly careless with it, I could learn a lesson, but what I did was basically standard backpacker practice, and I do think I tied them on well - they only had to sit in cargo, and those same knots had held while I walked miles with the bag on my back. If they had been stolen, I could at least be angry or something. But this is just rotten luck, and mysterious at that, and I'm almost in denial about the whole thing. I guess its just a traveling hazard, but it sucks that I have no idea what happened to it, no one to blame, etc.

To make matters worse, I looked online and couldn't find any boots at all like it - it was such a hybrid pair, somewhere in between hard core leather boots and a tennis shoe - and it appears to have been somewhat unique in this regard. Ecco doesn't make the pair any more, which is in fact why I got them so cheap initially, they were on clearance. But this story does have a decent ending - I went back to the website for The Walking Company, who I bought the boots from originally, and the item is still on their website, on clearance. They only have a few pairs left, and only in my size! Somewhat impulsively, I ordered a new pair and sent them to Florida, and I guess I'll ask my parents to send them on to Europe from there. So at least I'm only down the money, and considering what I put all my stuff through on this adventure and how everything else survived, I guess I'll just have to accept it.