Leicester... rhymes with Molester? :X

After getting off the plane, it was a whole chain of crazy events. Riding first class gave me the advantage of going through the fast lane at customs, but to my dismay the line was quite long and there were only 2 agents checking passports and visas. Then following that, getting my bags was a huge adventure as I looked for the trolley carts to hold my 5 huge bags of clothes and shoes. I looked pretty ridiculous pushing a tall cart full of luggages through the airport, bumping into random things and people. Huffing and puffing from practically running and pushing this heavy almost-tipping trolley, I find the car driver waiting for me outside of arrivals. It seemed like he almost ready to leave, thinking I would be a no-show. Thankfully he didn't, because I had no phone or means of communication.

I stepped outside and was welcomed with cold rain and grey skies. The ride was long. Nearly 2 hours through a very uneventful drive of grasslands, highway and traffic. I ended up drifting in and out of sleep in the back seat from travel fatigue. During the whole ride and even when I was half asleep, I was extremely worried about the "serviced" apartment that I was supposed to arrive to. The confirmation I got from the relocation agency said I had to pick up keys or call some guy to meet me there. I sent my itinerary to the agency a week before, REALLY hoping they passed the information on. I also sent a personal email to the guy on Sunday night to be absolutely certain they were aware of my arrival. Unfortunately, I never got a response. About halfway through the car ride, I was jolted awake by a nagging feeling that I really needed to call someone to make sure I could get into the apartment. The car driver kindly let me use his phone. Wow, thank God I was able to because the guy didn't know I was coming and said he was an hour away!!!

Certainly, that was not a good feeling to have... not knowing where you are going or where you are

Front Entry - Outside

going to live in a foreign land. Will I just sit on a street corner with 5 huge bags?... probably crying my eyes out! I arrived and waited 5 minutes. The car driver had to leave for another pickup and the entire I was thinking... crap... crap... CRAP!!!

Inside the front door,
cold and dark

Fortunately, the landlord's wife stopped by with the keys and let me in. I was so relieved... UNTIL...

I walk into this cold, dark building that tried to look nice. There were no elevators, no lobby, no receptionist desk... nothing. I look to my left and there is a mail slot with random envelopes messily scattered on a ledge and on the floor. In front of me were nothing but steps, concrete steps and brick walls. There were a few lights here and there but it was dark and some lights needed to be replaced. Instantly, I felt uncomfortable and scared. Crap...

The landlord's wife helped me lug the 5 huge bags up 4 flights of stairs. It reminded me of the dreadful New York City walkups. I was feeling nervous again. I get to my floor and walk into a hallway with 3 flats. She opens the flat door... as I step in BAM! I get hit in the face with an unwelcoming smell of body odor. I look around, and yikes... there were crumbs and dust everywhere, a big oil forehead print on the window, cobwebs in the ceiling corners, broken kitchen cabinets, moldy grout in the shower, filthy and stale carpet and an even smellier closet. I really wanted to cry... and pretty much after the lady left, I did. The thoughts raced through my head, What is this place? What am I doing here? Did I make a mistake coming here? All I want to do is go home. 

After I got my composure back, I took out my Lysol wipes that I thankfully packed in my bag and went

through a good half tub wiping everything down. I did not bring paper towels, so I walked over to the local Poundland (equivalent to the American Dollar store) and bought some, along with some bottled water, Glade air freshener and toilet paper (yeah... there was only a quarter of a roll on the holder with no refills in the flat). On my way back, I walked across the street of a small alleyway and happened to have crossed too soon as a car was coming. The New Yorker in me is a natural jaywalker with the expectation that cars would stop for pedestrians. Out of the tiny little hatchback came a man's entire upper body and a boitesterous stream of loud obscenities in a heavy British accent. The only thing I could understand out of him was "FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!" among a whole lot of other words that I didn't quite make out. The echo of his screaming tapered off into the distance as he briskly drove off.

I get back in. The beds were made, but I really didn't trust the cleanliness of it. I took off all of the bedding and ran it through the washer. Strangely, washer and dryers are in one machine here. You might think it sounds practical and efficient, but it wasn't. I ended up spending a good 8 hours washing just one load of sheets because it took forever to dry. As the machine went to drying mode, there was too much moisture in the linens and the machine to be able to properly dry. By 11 pm, I gave up and just took everything out because I was so exhausted. After a shower in the seemingly cleaner separate bathtub (because the shower stall was nasty)... that's right I said a shower in a bathtub with no curtain or glass door- I was basically squatting on my tippy toes trying to shower in the tub so the water doesn't spray everywhere (thanks Crossfit!) - I head to bed to try for some rest before day 1 of work.

It's 12 am, there are people shouting outside... just GREAT!
So much for a "serviced" apartment. Surely not serviced at all.

My first night in England... not the best one I would say but hopefully, tomorrow gets better as I start my first day of work.

Nothing against Leicester itself. I just felt "molested" by a chain of unfortunate experiences on my first day in the country.

I do have faith, however that it will get better! Cheers.