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Posts Tagged ‘moving to london as an accompanying spouse’

Moving to London: The American Expat in London Diaries – Part VII

Thursday March 3rd, 2011

For those relocating to London, here comes the harrowing conclusion to my series of personal journal entries upon first moving to London in 2008 (see the previous posts starting from here)…okay, maybe I exaggerate how high-level of interest this may be, but it really is what I wrote. Sorry if I wasn’t an exciting expat writer at the time…or ever since. In any case, written about my first month here, hese entries have covered my three-week experience staying in short-term accommodation in London hotels as well as the torturous two weeks that I spent viewing London apartments without the help of a London relocation agent, which would have saved us tons of time and money (hint-hint). And now, if you’ll kindly give me a drum-roll, I’ll share the remainder of the miscellaneous observations I had made as a brand new American expat in London (emphasis on “miscellaneous”):

27.10.08

Other random observations/doings in our first weeks: Where television is concerned, we haven’t had that much exposure, but enough to surprise us over how much U.S. Presidental coverage there is (and, of course, we arrived here just as the economic shite was hitting the fan everywhere in the world) and enough to engross us in a new favorite realty show, “Coach Trip.” Further, the Cadbury “Twisted” candy bar commercial holds ridiculous power over me, actually managing to break through one of my infamous cold shoulders and render me giggling uncontrollably. Regarding the shops, if you eat in at Starbucks, you are served in an actual ceramic mug, there is a T.J. Maxx equivalent named T.K. Maxx (for whatever reason), and we have found our grocery options to be Marks & Spencer (higher end, but great ready-to-cook/serve prepared meals), Sainsbury, Somerfield, and Tesco. I had a giggle the other night when I opened our carton of eggs to see, plastered to the side of one, a white feather—these English eggs must come straight from the chickens’ vajayjays! We have found a Home Depot equivalent in Homebase, where we purchased topiary boxes and plants to plant ourselves for our window ledges. Perhaps my most precious shopping experience so far, though, has been the purchase of a special little bear from Darkest Peru at the real Paddington Station. I also bought a fabulous scarf at a little boutique on Portobello Road in Notting Hill.

Well, for whatever in the heck that’s worth. :) Just thinking of that Cadbury ad still makes me giggle, and it wasn’t long after gifting my nephew the Paddington Bear that month that I found myself back at the official kiosk in Paddington Station purchasing another one as a Christmas gift for his mother, who might have otherwise stolen it out from under her own kid in his sleep. I still find feathers on my eggs now and then, and I continue to *heart* Portobello Road and Notting Hill in general, as it’s the fabulous locale of London Relocation, but of course, and honestly a big fave of American expats moving here-we show flats there all the time! Now, my journal does go on to chronicle some local UK weekend excursions that we made early on, but I think you can use a break from my “Dear Diary,” no? I thus conclude my lil’ “Moving to London: The American Expat in London Diaries” series and hope it at the very least showed you some glimmer of my sincerest, deepest felt empathy for you as you make your own move here.

 

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Moving to London: The American Expat in London Diaries – Part VI

Wednesday March 2nd, 2011

For those relocating to London, I’m starting to wind down this series in which I share my personal journal on first moving to London in 2008 (see the previous posts starting from here). Written about my first month living in London, these entries have so far covered my three-week experience staying in short-term accommodation in London hotels as well as the two weeks that I spent viewing flats on my own, regrettably without the help of a London relocation agent that would have saved a tremendous amount of time and money. Who knew? (Hopefully YOU do by now!) And so, as I now present the penultimate post to this series, I’ll share the miscellaneous observations I made as a brand new expat:

23.10.08 [continued]

Random observations that I’m for whatever reason compelled to document: the crazy, cussin’-n-spittin’ old man that I thought would knock me down in the Brompton Cemetery (the first of many crazy old men talking to themselves encountered on the streets); the bitter American woman loudly proclaiming to her male companion (husband?) at the pub that the English are “arrogant bastards,” as she then exits dramatically, expecting her man to be right behind her, but who instead dumps her remaining beer into his own glass and chugs it, and then follows her out with a too-small-for-his-stature backpack slunk onto one shoulder; the recurring fashion—black opaque tights with denim skirts, skinny jeans tucked into boots; two sightings of paramedics tending to a victim lying on the sidewalk/street (I don’t know, I just think it’s strange I’ve never seen this before, but now have twice in my first 3 weeks weeks here); a drunk guy kicking a moving car in Piccadilly Circus and the driver flying out to knock said drunk down on his ass in one blow (he actually skidded on the asphalt, and the argument ensued for longer than the dudes’ respective woman friends and rest of traffic would have preferred).

Ah, yes. Gotta love the nightlife in its most touristy spots. Piccadilly Circus is certainly not one of my favorite spots, though I do enjoy venturing to London’s theatre district for live performances as well as just reveling in the vibe of the bright lights, restaurants, and theatre-goers (our next show will be Flare Path, starring Sienna Miller). And for the record, I do not share that boozy American woman’s sentiments! But I was dying of curiosity as to what happened to piss her off so much…

But my gosh, in reading this entry over, I’ve painted a violent picture! Please take my word for it that these are not things I’ve seen in abundance since then. More likely, this was the perspective of a sheltered gal who was getting used to living in a city again after a few years in the suburbs. :) Anyway, join me tomorrow as I conclude my “Moving to London: The American Expat in London Diaries” series with more of the randomness that followed my move here.

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Moving to London: The American Expat in London Diaries – Part V

Tuesday March 1st, 2011

For those relocating to London, I’m continuing to share my personal journal on first moving to London in 2008 (see the previous posts starting from here). These entries were actually written after my first month living here, but retroactively cover what those initial few weeks were like…and while not the most chronological of records, I’m trying to keep it consistent by topic. My first posts kicked off with my relatively lazier days staying in short-term accommodation in London. By “lazier days,” however, I don’t think I’m giving myself due credit, because without the assistance of a London relocation agent, a significant chunk of the first weeks was spent hitting the pavement to view London apartments all on my own. It can easily take that long when you’re unfamiliar with London, its neighborhoods, and its lettings agencies…so in all honesty, it took me nearly two weeks to see the number of London apartments London Relocation can show in one day:

 

23.10.08 [continued]

Just waiting for the British Gas repairman to return from the shops with what will hopefully be the solution to our towel rack/radiator issue. It is so freaking cold in here in the meantime…I’ve started to get fit again with all this city walking, with walking to and fro London real estate offices and properties a dominant activity that first week and a half. Thanks to all of those numerous lettings agencies for playing a role in the process of looking for and, yes, finding a home. After viewing 23 flats, #23 was, in fact, the charm. It was so close to being #22, but we finally saw past that one’s balcony to fully see the traffic, the lesser storage space, the smaller bathroom, the crappier entryway, the questionable furniture. Our abode now, on the other hand, is off a side street. It has a lovely entry with well-preserved period banister and fixtures (moldings, etc., even in the unit). It has a huge bathroom on a lower level that I guess used to be the kitchen, and the kitchen, now off the main room, is newly refurbished—I find it so interesting that they place washing machines in the kitchens. Suppose it makes great sense, doesn’t it, when there isn’t a  special room or closet for such. Much better than hauling crap down to a communal facility. No balcony, but access to a communal garden on the next block. Our boxes are supposedly in transit on the sea and will arrive by the first week of November. Meh. In any case, it is definitely pleasant to now have a place to call home, and I am nesting :) .

I won’t lie. There were some doozies among all the lettings agents I worked with. One in particular twice took me into a flat in which the tenant wasn’t expecting us—when one woman opened the door in her bathrobe, the first thing the guy thought to say to her was, “Nice legs.” Umm…You don’t really know quite what you’re getting into when you set foot inside one of those estate offices. My uneducated search simply began at the first one I saw down the street from the hotel, and I just hopped along from there. Some have integrity and represent only quality flats, others just scramble with what they can get and will say whatever they must to get you to sign the lease so they can get paid—they don’t necessarily care about you, because you are not the one paying them (except in administrative fees); the landlord is. So they’ll be nice to you until you’ve signed on the dotted line and transferred all your money; whether they’ll have your back after that remains to be seen.

That’s what distinguishes the London relocation agent from the lettings agent. In addition to sifting out the good from the bad agents and properties, our promise & guarantee states,

“YOU come first until you’re happily settled in your new home. We stand by you. We care.”

To read more about making the relocation versus lettings agent decision, please read my posts, “London: Relocation 2” (guest post at Lotus Events’s website, our recent client!) and “Top 5 Reasons to Use a London Relocation Agent Vs. Doing it on Your Own.”

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Moving to London: The American Expat in London Diaries – Part IV

Monday February 28th, 2011

For those relocating to London, I’m continuing  to share my personal journal on first moving to London in 2008 (see the previous posts starting from here). These entries were actually written after my first month living in London, but retroactively cover what those initial few weeks were like…and while not the most chronological of records, I’m trying to keep it consistent by topic. My first post kicked off with my experience of those first lazy days staying in short-term accommodation in London…which ended up being longer-term than we’d expected thanks to how long it took to search London apartments on our own without the help of a London relocation agent(never again!):

23.10.08 [continued]

Basically every night has been a night out at some pub or restaurant given that we’ve only recently acquired a kitchen and still need to do some grocery shopping. I tried to subsist during my days at the hotels on granola and fig bars, Nutella, bread, and bananas (and then the countless croissants I’ve eaten almost daily), so am now looking forward to some real homemade meals (hmm…therein lies the challenge…). I suppose I should mention that we shifted down the street to the Premier Inn on Knaresborough for our 3rd week to change things up a bit. Wise decision. Our room was much bigger, warmer, and overall more accommodating, and, better yet, we didn’t have to face the reception staff of Enterprise anymore. That was getting so old, leaving and retrieving the key at their desk, getting called after constantly to settle the bill when I myself had no power to do so sans credit card (I cut them all up prior to coming here…a test in spending control) and Ryan (the one with the credit card and UK debit card) for whatever reason was free to go each morning unhindered. Those women were just so smug…not like the friendly staff at Premier, who so kindly stored all our shite that one day to free us up for a mini-weekend trip to Stratford-Upon-Avon.

Ha, I’d totally forgotten about how bitter I got toward the hotel staff :) . Not their fault, really, it just compounded my feelings of vulnerability in being so limited in so many ways those first weeks. As if it’s not unsettling enough to not yet have a place to call home, where there’s no credit history, there’s no credit card either. My husband and I lived here about a year before we finally got our UK credit cards after, logically, establishing some UK credit. And though my husband was issued his debit card by our bank straightaway, his second-class citizen of an accompanying spouse had to jump through hoops and wait several weeks to get hers. Grrr!! Yes, I still had my American debit card, but, as I said above, no credit cards, which I suppose was my fault, but I was trying to be responsible in leaving any and all U.S. balances at ZERO once we moved and I was unemployed in the UK for a while.

A huge section I’ve skipped over in my journal here related to night after night out with our friends. Needless to say, as isolated as my first weeks as a London expat did feel, we had a surprising number of friends from the States who already lived here or were traveling through on business. Paths criss-cross like mad, I swear, so please read my post “This is Your London Life” for a glimpse of the surreal interconnectedness this city can offer just when you’re fearing a London move will sever your ties!

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Moving to London: The American Expat in London Diaries – Part III

Friday February 25th, 2011

For those relocating to London, I’m continuing  to share my personal journal on first moving to London in 2008 (see the two previous posts here and here). These entries were actually written after my first month living here, but retroactively cover what those initial few weeks were like…and the more I delve back into this journal, the more I see I was all over the place in the memories :) . Not the most chronological of records, but I’ll try to patch my chicken scratchings together by general topic. Today’s, then, speaks to a lot of the London sightseeing I did as I allowed myself to be a London tourist before it registered I was now a London resident!

 

23.10.08 [continued]

I suppose in resuming my recap of the past weeks, I’ll continue to extract from my mock entry last time. “Wandered around…Got lost.”…my day of wandering brought me to an intriguing cemetery off Old Brompton Road. It is huge, and become a sort of inspiration for me; it is so serene, yet full of life in the walkers and joggers that pass through and the squirrels and crows that reside there. Other walks have taken me to Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, where I once sat to watch a little kids’ football practice, by all the shops along the main streets of each local area, like Kensington High Street, by a warm and inviting bookstore glowing orange on a black, rainy night when I legitimately was lost and soaked (which I later figured out was Daunt Books on Fulham Road). Just having stopped in for a break from the cold and wet, I left without purchase and continued to meander my way back to Earl’s Court. A couple days I went to the city to walk the South Bank that I love and view the Tower, successfully then losing myself in the business district and looking to St. Paul’s as my guide.

I cut out the part where I was obsessed with a book I wished I had bought at Daunt, but couldn’t remember the title or where the bookstore was—so funny to think how disoriented I used to be on streets I know so well now! Mixed in with my wanderings those first days was of course also the practical, first and foremost looking to rent my own place.  As a trailing spouse who moved here for my husband’s job, it was only a matter of time before I had to look for one of my own. All in due time, however. If you’ll be in a similar situation after your big move, if you’re able to take some time to just acclimate and “be” for a while, don’t feel guilty doing it. It’ll make make you and your partner happier in the long run the more familiar you are with your new environment, feeling a part of it and taking the time to make your London apartment into a home, which my journal will speak to next week.

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Moving to London: The American Expat in London Diaries – Part II

Thursday February 24th, 2011

 

If you’re relocating to London and didn’t read my post yesterday, I’d initiated the major sucking up of pride and privacy to share my personal journal on first moving to London in 2008….maintained until living in London began to feel more like the everyday than a vacation.

The first entry is a continuation of the one before, and necessary context is as such: adding to the transitions of quitting a job and relocating abroad is the fact that we were just married that June and maintained our long-distance relationship between Chicago and New York until moving to London! That’s right, London is the first city my husband Ryan and I have lived in together since Chicago in 2004, if you can believe it (I still can’t).

21.10.08 [continued]

…See, now in extracting those details I have found myself unexpectedly reliving my first couple weeks at the The Enterprise Hotel, Ryan’s and my first home away from home, where we first arrived on a shockingly sunny, gorgeous  day. September 28th, to be exact, as we flew overnight. The lobby and restaurant of the hotel seemed updated and nice enough, yet the rooms evidently retain their English charm…in that they are tiny and cold. Whatever, it suited our needs (even though our luggage consumed half the room, even with 2 pieces stored downstairs), and the location was excellent. Hogarth Road extends directly from the Earl’s CourtTube station and is accessible to pubs, shops, cafes galore. We became so smitten with the area, in fact, that we’ve decided to stay here and, thus, just moved into a flat of our very own (our first together) yesterday.

More details on that later. I actually need to dash right now to catch the Tube to the city for my 2nd religion/science debate at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Last week’s debate centered on the Big Bang, and tonight is Evolution. That being said, gotta go so I get a seat.

23.10.08

The St. Paul’s debate the other night was great – unlike the prior one, there was an atheist in the panel, so that stirred things up. As did the clearly more ornery crowd who kept moaning about the echo – to a good end, though, as they did rectify the sound issue that had likewise been present last time. Next week is Body & Soul, i.e., debating whether there is a place in the human genome for the soul. I admittedly tend to tune out whenever anyone has been talking too long, and focus is even that much more of a challenge when the eye has a massive dome and intricate mosaics, sculptures, and paintings to wander about. A surreal kind of solitude even in a room filled with people. The intellectual, the curious….

A friend has teased me for my crush on Paul—yes, as in the cathedral—because I tend to mention it a lot in my blog posts. Well, this entry here is a clue as to why. I explain it in my “Found Your London Flat? Now Find Your London Deep.” post, but will say again here that, regardless if you’re religious or not, finding a quiet time and place for thought and reflection is invaluable after a move here when you may be re-evaluating a whole new personal and professional game plan going forward (prevalent among trailing spouses like me). St. Paul’s was that place for me at that critical time, and I’ll always carry that peace and introspection with me. May you find the same after your move and stay tuned tomorrow for another installment of “Relocating to London: The American Expat in London Diaries.”

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Moving to London: The American Expat in London Diaries – Part I

Wednesday February 23rd, 2011

If you’re relocating to London (like I did over a couple of years ago), for the next few posts I’m going to be sucking up an amount of pride and privacy on your behalf. Well, I suppose I shouldn’t assume it’s going to do you any good, but hoping it offers some empathy as you get yourself situated. The thing is, I’ve always been a bit of a Dear Diary kind of gal, and while I no longer chronicle daily experiences as an adult, I always do record my travels. So upon first moving to London, I figured I ought to try the same at least from the get-go…that is, until living in London began to feel like the everyday to me and not a vacation. There’s not too many of these entries, but I’ll start sharing what’s there.

To give a little necessary context, I moved over as an accompanying spouse for my husband’s job. I taught high school English back home, but UK visa delays prevented me from procuring work prior to our London move. So, basically, when we finally did move over, it was my job to find us a London apartment to rent, unpack our crap and create a new home of it, job-search, and otherwise wander the city and pick my nose.

And so, *ahem*:

21.10.08 [as is writ in the journal...that's the European date format, which places the day before the month, FYI]

I sit here with pen in hand wondering why it is so difficult for me to get started. I suppose it’s because I don’t know quite how to approach writing of my daily life in one of my travel journals. Ordinarily, the everyday stuff has no place here, but I find myself in, what is for me, an unusual situation. How am I to chronicle a life abroad? Not just touring this time. Living. Getting settled. Eventually, getting a job. In London. At first I thought maybe I’d do little daily entries of my days in brief (at least these introductory days of unemployment): “Woke late. Wandered around. Had a chai latte and croissant at Starbucks. Got lost. Found my way back. Contacted a negotiator [lettings agent] and viewed some flats.” But I didn’t, and I’m not sure why. Probably laziness, as once I get my journals going, I don’t really want to reduce them to succinct statement of fact; I want them detailed so I can live and breathe them again whenever I pick up one of these leather-bound tomes of my international existence. I want details like the luxury of sleeping in for the fifth month of a prolonged summer vacation, yet the stress involved in such when the maid at the extended-stay hotel knocks on the door and I have to flail out of bed with an apology and request that she come back later, afterwards feeling like the biggest loser, the only one in the hotel without a purpose demanding that I be up and showered and dressed by a respectable A.M. time. The same shame occurs when I preemptively hang the “Do Not Disturb” sign to avoid the aforementioned stress, as I am then stressed when imagining the neighbors can hear what I’m doing (the re-chaining of the door from within after opening [it being] the dead giveaway) and the maid seeing my sign and shaking her head in judgment. Tail between my legs, I slink back under the sheets and bury my shame in 2-3 more hours of sleep…

Hey, I never promised it would be interesting. Just the beginnings of real, authentic thoughts of an American expat living in London for the very first time, and not even in an actual London apartment yet. It may sound mundane, but, like it or not, this is the common existence for the trailing spouse or partner at the outset, until we make our own friends and find our own jobs in London or discover other outlets for our skills and passions. It’s a displacement that takes a while to adjust to, but I promise that there is no more engaging place to do so than London, and, honestly, hiring on the services of a London relocation agency will expedite that transition. Don’t wait as long as we did—3 weeks in a hotel!!! Meh, more on that in my next installment of “Relocating to London: The American Expat in London Diaries.”

 

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London Relocation Loves “Successful Living Abroad” Online Lectures!

Thursday October 28th, 2010


As an accompanying spouse who relocated to London for my husband’s job, I didn’t realize the extent of how challenging it would be to acclimate to a new life abroad with respect to my professional and personal life.  Belatedly, I became acquainted with Robin Pascoe through LinkedIn, who, as a long-term trailing spouse, has written a collection of books on expat living.  I’ve previously recommended Robin’s book, A Movable Marriage, and now am delighted to learn that she’s developed an online series of lectures addressing the emotional trials and tribulations of moving internationally that compound the sheerly logistical ones—and making a success of it!

Titled Successful Living Abroad, the series tackles all the hot buttons such as loss of identity, anger and resentment toward one’s spouse, and expat parenting when one is moving abroad with children.  Reestablishing who you are in an entirely new context is not as easy as all those supportive folks who say to you, “Oh, think of it as an adventure!” tend to believe when you’re justifiably concerned about finding work, friends, etc. after your international relocation.  Far easier said than done by those on the outside looking in, but when you’re the one living it, you’re the one who has to make it happen.  As Robin will tell you in her abundance of print and online resources, it isn’t all gloom and doom (it is a grand adventure, after all!), and, indeed, some may fare better than others.  The fact remains, however, that it’s better to anticipate what issues could arise so that, if they do, you’ll be prepared and thus better suited to take them on productively and positively.  It’s all about holding your head above water as you turn that doggy-paddle into an Olympic-qualifying breast-stroke :) .

Robin Pascoe’s Successful Living Abroad series can be found at both of the following websites:

www.expatexpert.com

www.youtube.com/robinpascoe

The staff here at London Relocation Ltd. are likewise all expats living here.  Having each moved here for different reasons, we can offer you plenty of advice on the varying degrees of personal tolls such a relocation had originally taken and how we individually persevered to make our London move an enriching and terribly fun experience!

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