Moving On

We had been in America for 8 months and the lease on the house was nearly up.  It was time to move on.  The house had originally been chosen because it fulfilled the criteria of being in walking distance of a school and a grocery store.  But I was fed up of living in the dark and gloom, isolated in suburbia.  Now that daughter No 2 had passed her entrance exam to attend private high school, and I was confident enough to drive further afield, the world - or at least the world within a 15 minute drive of the new school - was our oyster!

One of Neil's English colleagues and his wife had an apartment in the centre of Pasadena and I loved it.  It was modern, light and airy, everything our house wasn't.  Neil had always been adamant he didn't want to live in an apartment, but we had had a whole string of problems with our "ranch". Yes it was lovely to have our own pool and our own outside space, but having to deal with an absent landlord who was always overseas was proving very difficult.  In addition the house was built like a garden shed - wooden frame, sheets of chipboard and a bit of cladding on top.  It had no insulation; it wasn't double glazed, and yes, although winter days are pretty mild here, winter nights are not.  The patio doors in our bedroom didn't quite meet in the middle and the house got cold.  Very cold.  Two duvets, long sleeved PJ's, bedsocks....wasn't quite how I had planned to spend my nights in LA!!

The house was also too big for the three of us - there were rooms we didn't use, and knowing that our stay was always going to be temporary, we had only purchased the minimum of furniture, which looked rather lost in the vast space. All that dark wood attracted the dust; I was constantly sweeping and mopping, the house never felt clean.  The appliances were old and inefficient; the cooker was either on or off - there didn't appear to be any temperature control; the washing machine was noisy and would trundle merrily across the laundry room every time it was used, having to be manhandled back into position at the end of every day.  The whole place needed "re-modelling" as they call it here (I call it knocking down and starting again).

We started having trouble with the plumbing on Christmas Day - something had gone wrong with the cistern in the family bathroom and it overflowed.  Without access to the usual array of tools that he would have had in the garage back home, Neil improvised with a paperclip, which surprisingly did the trick! When Mr Soon, our designated Chinese maintenance man appeared a few days later he was very impressed with Neil's handiwork and didn't think he could improve on it. (This did make Neil slightly uneasy about a large mechanical equipment order he had recently placed in China if this the typical standard of Chinese workmanship). More plumbing issues ensued; Mr Soon was followed by Mr Lee the dishwashing engineer. They were like a double act and trying to communicate with either of them was extremely frustrating.  Mr Hong, the pool boy had the right idea - if I wanted to speak to him he would get out his mobile phone and call his wife who then acted as an interpreter in a three way conversation.  Effective but not the easiest way to conduct business.

The plumbing problems finally escalated into a series of blocked drains; which culminated in the only usable toilet being the illegal one in the forbidden guest house. We had to spend a day and a night surreptitiously slipping across the back yard to our outside "loo" whilst we waited for the Chinese version of Dyno-Rod to arrive (in case you're wondering if you've missed the part of  this blog where we moved to the Far East, don't panic, we're still in LA, but LA has a very diverse population and our landlord was Chinese  and so was everyone else he employed - it's not just the British who are stuck in a bubble!)

So at the end of the day it proved relatively easy to persuade Neil to try luxury condominium city living.  Yes of course there are disadvantages - it's noisier in town, we are closer to the freeway; helicopters frequently buzz about overhead; police sirens go off all night and you have to put up with the sound of your neighbours  romping in the jacuzzi at midnight.  Groceries have to be carted from the car, to the lift (whoops elevator), up to the 5th floor and along the corridor to our apartment, which makes food shopping a carefully planned expedition rather than a spontaneous gesture. But our apartment itself is light, airy, modern and plenty big enough for the three of us yet there's still enough room for  a couple of guests.  Our furniture fits in perfectly so the apartment feels comfortable and homely, and everything works - and if it doesn't we simply go down to the leasing office and it gets fixed! We still have a great view over the mountains and it's a 10 minute walk straight into town to boutiques, department stores, cinemas, museums, bars and restaurants.  

Pasadena is an attractive city, it does have a European feel, a cafe culture (or at least it would have a European feel if they took out the dual carriageway that runs through the middle of it and pedestrianised the main street....) It's old by Californian standards - some of the buildings date from the beginning of the last century; it has great architecture and a charm and elegance which is decidedly lacking in other parts of LA. It's certainly a different way of living for us, but it's definitely not bad.  I wouldn't want to do it forever, but for a couple of years it will suit me just fine.  Oh and did I mention that there's a lot of other British people here too? Walk down the main street any day of the week and you can catch snippets of familiar accents...close your eyes for a couple of seconds and you can almost imagine yourself back home....