So, as you could see, I have finally fled from London, after almost two years of living style that could make Oliver Twist feel like he was living la vida loca. Now, to celebrate my fabulous escape, let me linger back on the various unbelievable stories that are tied to each and every rat-hole (or palace) I was living at these memorable times.
1) Known for my fantastic organizational skills, I didn’t plan my budget, nor my starting living place ahead of time. Luckily, I have met a lovely woman at a festival I was playing at, a week before my travels, who said she could help me starting. She was a lawyer and an amateur violist, and was very keen on music and musicians. She told me she could set me up in a room of a friend of hers, who played with her in a quartet. I didn’t know his profession nor who this guy is, and I only had the address with me.
And so, I arrived in London, two heavy suitcases in my hands, and a heavy bag on my back, and went out of the underground to the fancy neighborhood of St. John’s Woods. Luckily, the sun was shining (a very rare thing, I learned), and I breathed the fresh air of ultra-rich London. Suddenly, BOOM! A woman bumped into me. Seconds later I realized it was no other than Gwyneth Paltrow. Naturally, she had recognized me immediately, but in her newly acquired British manners, she had acted as if I was completely unknown to her. Such a class!
I continued to walk toward the address I was given. I arrived into a very beautiful house, and rang the doorbell. A Philippine maid opened up the door. “Z” is not here at the moment, but your room is on the sixth floor. These look heavy!, she said, looking at my luggage, not offering any help, of course. After what was pretty much the hardest physical challenged of my life (“of your life so far”, would say, and rightly so, Homer Simpson- as I would soon discover), I managed to bring all 70 Kgs onto the 6th floor, passing the kitchen floor, the piano floor, the living room floor, the second living room floor and the bathroom floor.
Arriving there I found a corridor with two rooms, which were the children’s, and a third door, which led to the tiniest space that was originally intended to store clothes. It had no window, no bed, no electric outlets. It had only a small expendable sofa, which couldn’t be turned into a bed, because there was no room. I lay down, completely exhausted and full of pain. A day later I was supposed to play Grieg piano concerto, and couldn’t imagine myself playing a C Major scale. Two hours later, “Z” came and explained me the rules of the house- I was not allowed to go out and in the house after 8, when he put the alarm on. Any movement within the entrance floor will immediately activate the alarm. I am not allowed to cook or eat breakfast in the house, and I have to get out of there in the next 12 days.
I was living like Gollum from LOR for that time, locked in my room after 8, and wasting all my money on eating out in that fancy area. When the time came to leave, I called again my lawyer friend. “Sure! no problem. I’ll set you up with ”N”, she is a really nice laywer, living by herself near the river. She loves music, and would love to host you for a while, until you can settle.”
2) “N” was a nice looking woman in her thirties, had a nice looking face and big boobs.
We set an appointment in her apartment, some days before I could move.
I immediately saw the apartment was very cute (though extremely girly), but definitely for one person only. For a start, there was only one bedroom, and the living room had a tiny sofa, not suitable for sleeping. “So, you think I could use the living room?”, I asked her, after seeing the place. “Oh no”, she said, blushing. “You should take the bedroom. I like to work also at night, and I want to use the living room. The sofa is actually extremely comfortable, and I want to be there”. This looked a little strange to me. “Are you SURE you want me to sleep in your bedroom? It is your bedroom!”, I insisted. “Oh, I know that...”, she said. “Trust me”. Although it did look odd, I didn’t press any further. I had no other choices anyway.
When I moved there, my strange feelings were proven right. On the first night there was a small spider in the living room. She called me right away, completely scared. “Kill it, please kill it”. I did so. She said in return- “so good to have a man in the house”. (Not sure if she said “finally”, as well, but maybe she did). And so, I discovered the true nature of my presence there- it was starting to get colder outside, and she needed a man in da house. The bedroom was not intended for me alone, but for us to share. To clear it up now, I didn’t have sexual relations with that woman. So now comes the question, why didn’t I? I was single, she was sexy, I lived in her house... well, I lived in her house, for christ sake, and she was a lawyer. What would have happened if things would go bad? “Lousy excuse, your honor”.
Anyhow, when she understood it was a no go, she wanted me to get out of there fast. “You see, at least you could have some fun”. “Jews never have fun”.
And so, after two weeks, I still had no money to rent my own proper place, and I had to call my lawyer friend for the third time in a month. “I see. Well, there is one more person that can help you, his name is “L” and he has a lovely Dutch family and lives in the north of town”.
3) My third apartment story was the least crazy of them all. “L” was indeed a family man. He and his wife had 3 young and blonde children, aged between 3 and 6. They also had a dog, which had uncomfortably resembled my beloved dead dog I had when I was a kid. Actually, for the entire time I was waiting for them to get out of the house, so I could finally talk to the dog in hebrew and plan to kidnap it with me. The only annoyance of the place for me, apart from the fact I couldn’t cook, and I was miles away from the place I was practicing at, was that every morning at 6am, I was awaken by the kids shouting “Mama!”, “Papa!”.
After three weeks, I felt I needed a place for myself, where I can truly feel a part of. In other words, I wanted to pay for my stay.
With my very modest budget (which was more than enough if I was living, say, in Berlin) I soon discovered I could barely rent a movie. I called again my lawyer friend and asked her if I she knows anyone who is renting a room in his house. “Well, actually, I do. She is a lovely married woman friend of mine, and yes, they are trying to rent a room in their house. They live south of the river, but it is worthy to check out.” Needless to say, that by then, I had known London complex underground system by heart. I was already living in the north-west, far east, far north and traveled to the far west and to the south of the city for praticing and having lessons with my teacher. I was already very skeptical about her recommendations, but I couldn’t be very choosy.
The couple who showed me the room were extremely nice people, but I immediately saw it is not a good place for me. It was very far from my practicing places, the room was very small and stuffy and I didn’t feel comfortable living in a place with a married couple.
When the woman saw I wasn’t interested, she thought for a minute and then said- “Well, I actually know that a woman in this street is renting a room in her house and she has a piano inside. Would you like to try and have a look if she’s there?”. Sure, I said. We walked down the street for 2 minutes, and a small old lady opened up the door. It smelled TERRIBLE inside. Without even asking who I am and if I am interested in living there she said- “Well, you will be living upstairs. I have a power shower, which is very nice. A month payment is...”, I barely listened to her, as I could barely stand the smell and this old lady looked very, very fishy to me, but then when I passed the living room I saw a beautiful Steinway grand piano. “Hold on a second”, I said. “If I live here, will I be able to practice?”. “Well, yes”, she answered. I thought to myself that if I could practice there as well then it might be a good deal for me. “So, are you taking the room?”, she asked with a grin on her face. “Yes, I am. Thank you very much”. “Wonderful”, she said, “Wonderful”.
*To be continued...*
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