Nothing more cumbersome, torturer, demoralizing, heavy, annoying, tiresome, boring and depressing for those who are to move to another country to look for a house when you have no idea of \u200b\u200bwhat the city, how the media work transport, how complicated is the traffic, how long are the distances, which are the roads, what are the shortcuts, what routes, what a way to manage the premises, where are the shopping malls, museums, theaters universities, the simple and easy "Chinese Corner", which in my country were on every street until it opened supermarkets and were killed by drowning them with offers to them, small entrepreneurs in fragile budgets, could not compete -.
When one is coming to a country completely unknown there is no way to feel safe, there is no way of knowing what is coming to a good decision when choosing a place to live and must be submitted to expert advice who, by the grace of corporate policies, have been charged with "relocatable" (anglicized quite confusing more reminiscent of a mad topped or recurrent purporting to attack rather than the simple "move" or "relocation" that refers). In our case we were fortunate to have Frida, a Mexican lady was super nice of those oppressive searches, adrenaline intense days at the wheel of his Audi while casually walked from south to north, labyrinthine streets, endless and confusing, the District Federal.
"The perfect home is always the budget is exceeded, the universal law that no one should forget the time out to find room, ergo, be content with who is right or condénate around the city you go to live until syncope finished your patience, your calm and you.
When we arrived, she and I, Mexico, We stayed at the twenty-fifth floor of a hotel in the capital and my question "Is it safe to pass an earthquake at this point?" Mother Nature responded that night with a five degree temblorcito began with a "stop moving your feet" , followed with a "I'm moving me" and ended with the stoic statement "either way, hopefully under twenty-five hold because if I die running story of heart, if I die, that is resting," so we decided to continue sleeping with such impunity that gives you sleep at three in the morning. The building withstood the next day, when we met Frida, who came to pick us up to begin our exploration was the theme of the morning while they were taking those addictive coffee company that having now, I do not know what magic of marketing, fashion and human stupidity, shops scattered throughout the five continents.
"First to the north," said Frida and there we saw a few houses. Beautiful all of them priceless, too. "We know where to look for a house when you appointed vice president," I said as if trying to explain to our amiable guide that not all "expat" have unlimited budget for rent (why the gringos love acronyms and abbreviations? I have no idea, but between pin vip, fyi asap and I have a salad on the head).
Comprehensive, friendly Frida next day took us to the center, beautiful apartments but useless when you want to move with three dogs and cocky scandalous that, in addition to threatening to cause endless complaints from neighbors were at risk of suicide in depressed until such one hundred-odd square meters of modern impunity after having walked through the gardens of patients who endured her parents, stoic, almost a year of barks, howls and complaints of the trio of abandoned quadrupeds, as I recall, my mother left him slightly redecorated garden with travel. Of course, as this explanation alone can be embarrassing (I understand that our concerns can outrage doggy more than one, although I confess that I did not cause the slightest remorse), there was always blaming the family library and more than seventy boxes of books went through there in a forgotten warehouse moth-eaten Lima pending "address", a prerequisite for Customs allowed the shipment at the port of Callao.
After the tour of the center, the third and last day of our trip was busy visiting a number of houses in the south, or far above, or were too expensive, or had no garden, or had few quarters, or were too old, or were neglected or whatever it was just left on the list, after an exhausting day, a couple of possibilities, a nice house (small but beautiful garden and acceptable) in the traditional neighborhood of San Angel and another holiday cottage combined with postmodern house, minimal and very practical, however, was by the Desert of the Lions, long avenue which is fed by other avenues long, not wide, and some streets cobbled very nice for a vacation but ill-suited to deal with traffic in the city that starts at six o'clock and ends, hopefully, after ten at night.
That evening, sitting in the hotel restaurant was a long discussion, this is cute, but is expensive, this is not safe, but the neighborhood is beautiful, that those we serve, but it is far, yes, no , maybe, we'll see, I'm tired, I'm tired, I live in the hotel, not silly, that dogs, that the books, which are to be come, which are many, yes , no, maybe again and so on until finished dessert, dinner indigestion, digestion impossible these more than two thousand feet to my stomach and my blood pressure coastal fickle, we slept for early the next day way back (This obsession with "saving days" to end sentencing him to a bad sleep, walk all the way to lose half zombie and then a whole weekend recovering sleep).
returned to Miami, the city without soul who stayed (old story) and the path of negotiations followed, again for reasons, reasons against, read descriptions of the houses, located barely mishandling the "Guide reddish "(indispensable survival guide in Mexico City), considering, reconsidering, insistence, withdraw, choose, decide. We agree that the cottage, small, never mind, we settled in the garden for the dogs, which was not very safe but the neighborhood is good, that, San Angelo, yes, that is, well, the best, that's it, is ours. Met off the plane, the airport is huge and lacks human warmth, is messy and it seems, has not a single store in operation if you arrive too late or too early and look at you, those who only yesterday were migrants and now wear uniforms , with passion and confidence, lest you want to stay. Finished the odious customs procedures and immigration, standing on dry land again, and while we were in the "transfer" from the airport to the office where we rented the car arrived, the hateful, essential and wonderful "Blackberry" by Ella, e short of our friend Frida: "Sorry, the San Angel house was already rented."
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