One guy from work had this genius idea that we should all go and watch cricket together. I thought it’s a good opportunity to get to know each other a bit more in a non-work environment and said yes. I wasn’t too excited about cricket because I remembered my last time I saw the game in Australia. It was boring as hell.
Friday arrived and after work I went to the game. I wasn’t too happy about it because there was a party at my dancing school. I’d rather go there than watch cricket. But hey… opportunities for social capital are few and far between.
Having extensive knowledge of my last cricket game experience I decided to buy a few drinks before I sat down. The logic I used was the same as when men consume alcohol to make the women look good again. Armed with my cider I bravely marched towards my seat of death by boredom.
Most of my other work mates were already there. They all knew I didn’t know much about the game. One guy explained me what it was all about and he did a great job. Now I know the gist of it but more knowledge didn’t do a thing to decrease the boredom.
I wanted to leave after the first half (alright that’s a lie, I wanted to leave after the first 10 minutes) but thought it would be rude to do so. So there I was – sitting in the sun, sweating like a pig, without sunglasses, trying to fake some interest but c’mon guys, nobody can fake for 3 hours. Nor did the alcohol help. I was glad when it ended. I walked home knowing that tomorrow would be a good day. How right I was…
Changing gears matafakas
Any way you want it, just the way you need it, any way you want it…
Epic Pause
Tomorrow – that awesome day I’ve been looking forward to – arrived. Canada called me and woke me up. She asked me where I was – we were supposed to meet up in London. I did a bit of planning and took the train.
By the way I met Canada in Australia (you should know that if you read my blog, if you don’t shame on you!!!). We went on a road trip on the east coast and watched an opera in the Sydney opera house back in the day.
She had not changed a bit. We spent the whole day doing touristy things – for example walked in Hyde Park and saw the Buckingham Palace. That was pretty much it. We didn’t really care much about that stuff… we only had eyes for each other. 😀 We also watched Godzilla. Man, that’s an awesome movie!!! I loved it!
I like that about London i.e the fact that I can still meet my friends from Australia. I guess the UK’s not that bad after all.
I was jealous of all her stories. She did a 2 month eurotrip. Hiked in the Alps and what not. My personal best marathon time and passing an exam was no match to her highlights. She inspired me. I need to spice up things a bit. I need action… I don’t know what I’ll do but I’m slowly dying here.
My good friend Einstein once said that you can’t expect to get different results by doing the same things. I need change. I want to feel alive again.
The plan. I’ve been planning surprising my mom on her 50th birthday for quite some time. I had a vague idea of what I wanted to do – basically show up at her place on her birthday with flowers, presents and wish her a happy birthday. I’ve been away from Estonia since Dec 2011 – that’s about 2.5 years – I hope she still remembers who I am.
I’m writing this in the Riga airport in Latvia while waiting for a bus to Tartu, Estonia. It’s strange to be back in a place where the majority of people don’t speak English – it’s either Russian or Latvian. I’ve been living in English speaking countries and need to adjust to my new (or should I say old?) surroundings.
The flight from Stansted (London) to Riga Airport sucked balls. It was freezing at the airport and there was nowhere to sit to wait for your flight except on the cold floor. All benches were full of people either sleeping or dozing off. The floor it is, I decided decidedly in a decisive manner.
You might have figured out that I had an early flight. Congratulations Sherlock! The lesson I learned from all this is that I should never show up at the airport before the bag drop counters for my flight open up.
I feel a bit like Santa at the moment. I’ve got a bag full of presents for my family. I hope they like ‘em.
I did a good job keeping my plans a secret. Only my sister and a few VIP friends know I’m nearby. My baby sister will “hide” me at her castle for a few days (my mum’s birthday is in 3 days). In the meantime I’ll try to spend some quality time with my niece Vanessa who was born when I was on the other side of the planet. I’ve got high expectations: I plan to teach her to do a cartwheel, double salto, a few headstands while juggling 7 balls with her left hand and doing my taxes with her right hand on a “dumb” phone.
The bus trip. I. Hate. Latvia. Alright, I don’t hate the whole country, I hate its buses and roads and its airport. First of all I had to wait 5 hours for my bus and then had to prepare myself for another 5 hour bus journey. I believe it took me about 2.5 hours to fly from London to Riga (1691 km in a straight line) and now this 244 km trip will take twice as long. Welcome to Eastern Europe.
On the bright side the bus had a free Wifi connection and an outlet for my laptop. There were also tablets on the back of each seat. I took advantage of that and watched two movies. GrownUps 2 was hilarious – it was so funny my laughter was disturbing the peace of my fellow travellers. ‘twas a jolly good ride, me mates!
The second half of my bus journey was slow and just as entertaining as watching grownup men running around on a field chasing each other and trying to kick a ball.
I spent the next few days at my sister’s place in Tartu. I enjoyed my first day there a lot. The highlight was my long lunch with Erik and Liina. It was easy to talk to them because they’ve travelled the world a bit as well. I look forward to seeing them again.
Big 50. All the kids got together and drove off to see my mum. I had several ideas about what would happen once my mum saw me. What followed was not a huge American style expression of joy at all. What happened was a lot like a train leaving Liverpool station at 6:32 AM with an average speed of 60 km/h moving towards another train from Manchester leaving its station at 6:44 towards Liverpool at an average speed of 55 miles/h. That’s how dramatic our reunion was! That’s as good as it gets in Estonia.
I quickly discovered how out of place I was. To be fair I re-discovered it. Basically everybody was talking and I wasn’t. I felt how different I was from everybody else. After my mums birthday I already wanted to leave. I remembered some of the reasons why I left back then.
ESTrip. Me and me mates went to Hiiumaa and it was awesome!!! Me, Pete, Olav and Siim rented a cabin in the dark and scary forest of Hiiumaa. Naturally we engaged in social drinking and banter and did a bit of “sightseeing”.
There’s not much to see in Hiiumaa except a few lighthouses and a military museum (I wasn’t a fan of either “attractions”). If I had to pick a favourite it would be the Eiffel Tower. See the video below.
Basically it’s the prototype of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. First it was built in Hiiumaa and then the evil Russian communist pigs stole the blueprints and lost them after a party in Paris. A French janitor/hobby-artist found the blueprints in an empty vodka bottle (back in the day the Russians’ most secure means of communication was by message in a bottle). That janitor’s name was Eiffel, he built the tower for his exhibition and the rest is history.
I spent my last two uneventful days at my brother’s place. I believe I was a lot of trouble for him because he had to take me to a vegetarian/vegan restaurant and it wasn’t easy to find one (I was happy with the 3rd place we went to). In the future I’ll opt for a cafe and order a black coffee – I did’t enjoy being a “problem”.
A glimpse of Australia. Just a few hours before catching my plane back to the UK I decided to see if I had any friends in Tallinn to arrange a catch up meeting. I was very lucky to see Marget again (I met her in Australia). I noticed that she didn’t have the same vibe (or lack of any vibe whatsoever) as other Estonians did. She was energetic, cheerful and radiant – completely out of place. She reminded me of so many things I miss about Australia. It was great to reminiscence.
This trip to Estonia made me realize how lucky I really am. I’ve seen, lived and experienced so much which wasn’t possible in my tiny home country. Going back felt a lot like falling asleep for 2.5 years and then waking up – nothing had changed about the country. I think I’ve changed or maybe I just see the world through a different lense.
Human nature baffles me. I just don’t understand some things. Here’s an example: I washed my bed linen and the blanket cover, then put it on the line to dry but when I went to take it off it was already gone. Somebody (I suspect my housemates) took my stuff (to be fair it’s technically not my stuff – I found the linen and blanket cover in a closet near the TV-room on the day I moved in, and I’ve had it for 3 months). Still, “my” stuff was taken and not even a peep about who did it. I understand if you want to do the right thing and take my washing off the line before it starts raining or something… but just taking it like that… there’s no good reason why somebody would do that. I’ve looked for my bed linen and they’re nowhere – any rational person would put them into an easily to find place for the other housemate to find it. Anywho… I don’t even want to get it back, I hope the thief (or rightful owner) will get sleep apnea while under that blanket cover and is taken straight to hell to burn in the eternal fire of Hades with the power of a thousand Suns.
(I like the pic. It looks like the skeletons are dancing and the volcanoes remind me of New Zealand…. so I guess it’s a NZ party hell!!!)
Oh well…. I decided to let that fantasy of having good decent housemates go and bought new linen and a blanket/pillow cover. Problem solved!
You might think that the above is a pseudo issue but it caused me a lot of anger and frustration. Why? Why? Oh the humanity, just tell me why would anybody do such a thing?
Running. My training is going really well but I’m nowhere I want to be with my speed yet. I’ve discovered that during my long runs I’m OK the first 25 km. After that my heart rate goes above my upper limit (149) very easily and it’s difficult/impossible to keep a good pace with a heart rate below 149. It might be a hydration thing… or maybe the day gets gradually too hot for me during my run?
Two days ago I ran a marathon – it wasn’t a race, just a training run. My goal was to finish in less than 4 hours. It was a beautiful day and the first 25-27 km went really well. Then it became difficult to keep my heart rate below 149 and I decided to ignore it. The last 10-12 km weren’t pretty – average heart rate around 160 which didn’t feel good. I also passed one of my colleagues from work. It was good to have somebody cheer me on on my marathon. I kept going and finished in 3:55:02.
You’d think I was happy about it but that’s not the case. I didn’t experience any joy from achieving my time goal. My brain immediately told me …”oh whoop-dee-doo, it took you 1 year to shave off 10 minutes from your marathon time”. Plus I felt like crap because I kept my heart rate near 160 for about an hour. Maybe I’m depressed? Maybe I can’t feel positive emotions anymore?
I don’t feel depressed… but maybe I’m in denial? – There’s no way to win this debate.
Today was another great day. I’m studying for exams which are required to become a financial adviser. These exams turned out to be much harder than I anticipated. Earlier today I took the first exam (it’s called R01) and passed it. One down, eleven more to go!
Remember the fiasco about the room I “rented” from Turkey? I filed a fraud case with the police (ActionFraud) more than a month ago and here’s what they wrote last week:
Your report has been assessed by the National Fraud Intelligence Bureau (NFIB) and the information you provided has enabled the police to take action to disrupt the activities of suspected criminals. This activity can be in the form of requests to suspend or take down:
• Fraudulent websites or email accounts,
• Telephone numbers,
• Bank accounts or foreign currency exchange accounts.
It can take time for disruption requests to be fully processed, so please be assured that this activity is in progress and that no further action is required on your part. You should not hear from us again in relation to this case, unless further analysis by the NFIB links your report to another crime in the future, in which case we will contact you to provide details of that referral.
I don’t know what to think of the letter. I don’t care about suspended telephone numbers or email accounts – I just want to get my money back. My trust in the police has reached a record low.
On another note: my relationship with Maria also ended. I can’t say I didn’t see it coming (after all she lives on the other side of the planet) but what made me very angry was that she didn’t tell me. I had to find out on my own. Since moving to the UK when I was asked if I had a gf I always said yes… but it turns out I was lying. She’s been seeing someone else for months.
All I wanted to do was to hurt her back, to break something or blow something up. That went on for a few days until I cooled down.
Maybe it’s for the best anyway: I was quite stressed and unhappy in my first month in the UK and adding bad news would’ve made everything worse. So maybe finding out the truth months later was a blessing in disguise.
I hope she’s happy. I truly do. I will remember the joy she introduced to my life and keep the good memories. Good bye!
“There is no real ending. It’s just the place where you stop the story.” ― Frank Herbert
Life is very quiet here, I’m not really doing anything exciting. The highlight of my week is Tuesday evening when I take my Latin dancing classes. It’s good to spin those girls and dance with noobs. The last time I twisted a girl’s arm a bit (I wasn’t trying to do anything fancy, she just wasn’t following) and we learned some dips which were very entertaining because the girls don’t trust me to hold their weight in my big muscular arms :D. Oh… sometimes I wish I could do a dip 😀 Nope. Not really.
I resumed my running training. So far I’ve run 53, 59, 59 and 65 km per week. I also bought a heart rate monitor after doing some research. I read an article Want speed? Slow down! by Phil Maffetone. That article convinced me to give it a shot so I bought the heart rate monitor. Basically the whole idea is to run at or slightly below your maximum aerobic heart rate (180-age-5 if injured) and build your running base. In time your body will be able to run faster while keeping the same heart rate. So far I’ve only run 3 times with my HRM and I’m slowly getting used to the feeling of running at the correct heart rate.
By the way the roads were better in Brisbane for running. Also Brisbane had lots of bats but here we’ve got many squirrels and birds who sometimes scare the crap out of me on my runs. For the record… I’m not afraid of those little creatures per se, it’s just that sometimes they fly out of the bush making all kinds of noise when you least expect it. I’m sure these little bastards are the real reason why some runners get heart attacks and die on their runs.
If you remember in a previous post I wrote that I got a job at a financial advice company (technically it’s an IFA – independent financial advisor). You might recall that I needed to pass a series of exams if I wanted to become an IFA. Let’s just say that I started studying for my first exam. I haven’t booked an exam date (you can take the exam every week or so) yet since I’m new to the financial services regulatory world in the UK – my first exam will be in markets, ethics and regulation. Once I feel a bit more confident I’ll take the exam.
I’ve lost weight since I left Australia. I was 80 kg when I left Brisbane. Two months in New Zealand shaved off 5 kgs and now since I’ve started training I’ve lost another 3 kgs. Today in the morning I weighed 72 kg. I need to start eating more crap!!!
I remember Vera (the German girl I travelled with in NZ) once told me her New Year’s resolution. She said with that cute cheeky smile of her’s… “What if this year I’ll do the exact opposite of what I normally do? This year my resolution is to get fat!” 😀 I just laughed because I thought that was such a ridiculous idea. Usually people get fat because they’re lazy as fuck – not because they want to. But hey… I wish her luck with her endeavors.
Alright back to the UK. I still haven’t received my money back from Turkey. Yesterday I filed a fraud report and hope that this will help me get my funds back. Long shot, I know. The last message from Turkey said that his mother died and he’s in Turkey blah-blah-blah… besides that he’s been ignoring all of my messages from the last 2 weeks. Turkey has my UK bank account details and could’ve made the transfer any day. He’s being a dick about it and that’s why I opened the fraud case.
I have days when all I do is wish to be back in Australia. The other day I saw a girl on a scooter and my heart skipped a beat or two because I thought it was Maria. Awwwww, shut up! Every now and then my Australian friends share an update or a video on WhatsApp and all that triggers so many memories of my life in Brisbane. It was a good chapter. A chapter I’d like to visit again.
The level of bureaucracy in London is huge. It took me almost 2 months to open a bank account here. You might think that all you need to do is just walk into a bank with some ID an voila they’ll open your new account. Not that easy.
Banks here want two things: ID and proof of address. The ID bit is easy – a passport will do fine. Proving your address is difficult. I’ve already lived in 4 different places in London – I couchsurfed, stayed with a friend’s friend’s friend, shared a room in North London and now I’m living in Chelmsford, Essex.
I had several options for proving my address:
A utility bill (can’t be a mobile phone bill) – it takes time to get and in my case was a hard sale. I kept moving from one place to another. My landlords weren’t too excited about this idea.
National Insurance number letter – Barclays bank allows to use this letter as proof of address. It took me 4 weeks after the interview to get my NI number (I also had to wait 3 weeks for the interview in the first place). They posted the letter to my old North London address. Since it wasn’t my current address I didn’t use it. Might work, might not.
Tenancy agreement – my current landlord in Chelmsford provided me with a tenancy agreement but that wasn’t good enough for the banks. Since it wasn’t from a housing association they treated it as a private agreement and thus it was insufficient.
Bank statement – All I needed to do was change the address in my current bank and order a paper statement. On the downside it might take a while until you receive the statement (I had an Australian bank – CBA). I actually got my statement in about 5 working days – two days too late because I found another way to open a bank account. So I’m not sure if this option works or not for proving your address.
Letter from employer – this one worked for me. Obviously you need to find work first. All you need is a signed paper where your employer confirms you work for him/her with your current address. It needs to be printed on the company’s official paper (with logos, addresses etc).
This marvel document enabled me to book an appointment to open my bank account. Mhm… you can’t just walk in and open one – even if you have all the documents. My Chelmsford HSBC branch’s first available appointment was in 2 weeks time. So I asked them to schedule an appointment in any other branch in London to get it done ASAP. I got an interview for the next day on Oxford St.
I went to the branch and gave the guy my documents. He went to a backroom, scanned my papers and a bit later said he can’t open my account. It was because the letter from my employer had some pixelation problems in the bottom area – the address was printed in a small font and some dots were missing – “anybody could’ve printed it” – a ridiculous reason to stop this process. It felt a lot like “I can’t open the account because I don’t like your face”. I rang my employer and she had a word with the bank’s representative. Then the man went to the back again, spoke to his auditor and five nervous minutes later he was happy to open my account.
You might think I was happy about that…but in reality I was just very annoyed. It was such a pain in the ass to open the account though I’m glad this bureaucratic nightmare is over.
I was listening to a podcast the other day. A guy was talking about helping people relocate to other countries. Anywho he said that it usually takes about 2 months to get over the humps of living in a new country. After that things will get better.
If I look at it that way I’m doing quite well. I’ve got a job (woohoooo positive cashflow!!!), have a NI number, UK bank account and a place to live. Soon I’ll have a social life as well – I took 2 Latin dancing lessons earlier this week, met a bunch of people and had a good time. I’m glad the venue is only a 10 minute walk from home. I can’t wait to go back again.
Isn’t it amazing how a new life is created from a single egg and sperm? Once the egg is fertilized all kinds of magical stuff starts happening. We’ve all been there – every single one of us. And now we’re all collections of billions of cells and large organs and limbs etc. The coolest stuff happens when we’re still in the womb, after birth the magic fades. We grow up, go to school, work, retire and die.
The miracle of life is amazing in its own right but there’s more to it. You see, I’ve been looking for work for about a month. In my previous post I mentioned two job interviews which I had a good feeling about. The first one was at a supermarket chain for a temporary IT support/analyst position for 2 months; the second one at a financial planning and advice company.
I applied for the IT support job via an employment agency. It seems like most advertised jobs in the UK are with employment agencies. I applied for ads for a while until I thought I needed to add another tool to my job-seeking arsenal. I wrote a cover letter and started forwarding it with my resume to companies directly.
I liked my second method more because it was a bit more proactive. I remembered reading that most jobs aren’t advertised anyway… so this was worth a shot. I did this for a week until I landed the interview at the financial planning place.
I’ve been interested in the financial world for ages and the owner said they’re happy to train me to become a financial adviser. Mentioning my naked skydive was a good idea – it got their attention.
It wasn’t much of an interview. The boss put a paper in front of me and outlined the process of becoming a financial adviser – a series of exams which I needed to pass. Since one of their administrators was going on maternity leave in a few months they decided to start me off as an administrator. As I pass my exams my job will gradually progress towards a paraplanner and then a financial adviser position. The miracle of life works its magic beyond the womb. 😀
Man was I happy after the interview. I couldn’t wipe that smile off my face. Finally I got a break. My one- crappy-job-after-another curse has ended.
I had a second interview at the same company and later that day they made me a job offer which I accepted.
Two days later I was also offered the IT support job but I declined because I was already happily employed.
Next week I will move closer to work. Travelling 65 km one way is too much. It’s expensive and takes too much time. This week I woke up at 5:30AM and got back home around 8PM. It was exhausting – I can’t wait to move again.
I’m still trying to get my money back from Turkey. The guy keeps dodging my messages and doesn’t show any interest in paying me back. So, today I told him I’ll file a scam/fraud complaint on Monday. He promised some crap about paying on Thursday – at least it scared him to reply me. I also signed up his email for some gay porn newsletters. 😀 If he doesn’t pay on Thursday I’ll put his mobile number on Craigslist under the man-seeking-man section. While I’m at it I might as well sign his home address up for some magazines and advertising spam materials. That’ll teach him not to mess with me!
I’ve been in London since Feb 2nd – almost for a month. Most of my time I spent looking for a home and looking for work.
I got half of my money back from the shady Turk but to this day haven’t received the rest. The life lesson is simple: never trust Turks. You might say that I shouldn’t put them all into one pot, but I’m not that nice. The other lesson is that you shouldn’t pay for anything in advance when dealing with cash. Trust is a beautiful thing but it’s also very fragile.
On a happier note… I’ve found a new home. I’m being cheap and sharing a room with a Spanish man. I believe about 8 people live in the house but they all keep themselves to themselves. So I don’t see them that often. Pretty much everyone here is older than me – except one toddler, who’s probably 2 years old. Most of the people here are native Spanish speakers, there’s a woman from Greece and another one from Bulgaria.
My room is quite large, nice and clean. The place isn’t too far from the city center and it’s very close to supermarkets and the tube. I’m pretty happy with it at the moment.
Work. I’ve been actively looking for work and have had 4 interviews. I’ve got a good feeling I will land a job soon. My last 2 interviews went very well. Fingers crossed.
Today I met with Caroline – a friend from Australia. I was really looking forward to meeting her. So I took the tube to her place, she opened the door with her huge smile and went for a kiss on the cheek. I don’t do that so that didn’t happen… just a quick awkward hug.
She’s French and it’s how they greet. I’m Estonian and for us anything from a nod or handshake is too much. It’s too close and quite uncomfortable for me.
I took my shoes off and 3 holes in my socks greeted Caroline. Hello! Hi! Bonjour! 😀 If you’re reading this, please send me socks.
We discussed the weather to honor the British surroundings. We talked some more. One thing led to another and somehow we got back to the kiss on the cheek greeting and cultural differences. We’re such intellectuals!!!
From what I remember she said a hug is more intimate than a kiss on the cheek. I completely disagree. To me a hug is the world’s most innocent thing imaginable (next to a nod from a far far away distance of course).
I also blush. Sometimes I get all red and awkward… the worst thing is I have absolutely no control over it. And I did. Today. That’s probably the biggest reason why I’m not OK with the kiss on the cheek thing.
So, here’s the problem – France prefers kisses to hugs, Estonia prefers hugs to kisses. The result is awkwardness.
I take great pride in the fact that I have successfully created a pseudo issue, although it was good to see you Caroline.
Before I get to explain my utter stupidity, I need to close a chapter in my life. I was alone in Christchurch and I wanted to stay there for about 10 days. More than a month ago I bought a flight ticket to London. First I needed to catch a flight from Christchurch to Auckland and then Auckland-Sydney-Dubai-London.
In the meantime I didn’t want to feel so lonely and wanted to meet some locals. I couchsurfed. One of my hosts took me hiking to Mount Hutt. It was quite interesting actually. We got lost and had to make our own way through a thick bush. Later we criss-crossed a river many many times as we walked along it. I’ve never had to get my feet wet on a hiking track. I also managed to clock in some morning exercise with my host. He was into running and I joined him. Otherwise I’ve been doing very little training in New Zealand.
My second CS host was very busy and we didn’t really do much together.
My last hosts Grace and Nick were awesome. We had so much in common. I will cherish the memories of playing the guitar and singing with Nick. Wow! That man can sing! Good food, good wine, good company. I had an excellent time. Even the cat seemed to like me 😀 Meeeeooowww!!!
I discovered that Christchurch had several Latin dancing schools and they had some socials. So I went to practice my awesome moves and I really loved it. It wasn’t as busy as in Auckland or Brisbane but I managed to have lots of fun. I think the zouk party they had was the best social I’ve ever been to – partly I think it’s because I got to dance with many advanced girls. They bend and twist and turn in very very very cool ways.
This is how I almost dance (in a few months I could do all the moves):
It was a bit sad to board that plane and leave Christchuch. It’s sort of an underdog city. It’s been beat up by some earthquakes but the community is strong, the people seemed happy, helpful and nice. I will miss Christchurch.
I landed in Auckland and had to stay there for 4 days. I knew Taimi (the Estonian girl I met in Paihia) was in the city so I got in touch with her. She had another friend from Estonia – Anngret – who was also living in Auckland. We decided to have a little Estonian reunion. We had some drinks and shared stories about our travels.
Anngret used to live in London and had some contacts there. She offered to help me if I needed anything in London. She kept her word and right now I’m writing this post at the family’s house where she used to do au pair work. This place is a castle!!! Thanks Anngret.
OK. This post is getting long I’ll get to London. My first task was to find a new home. I thought I found one but this story is not that simple… In fact I’ve made stupid decisions one after the other.
I tend to trust people. Even strangers. I generally think that people are good and have good intentions. So I give them the benefit of a doubt. But sometimes people take advantage of that. Here’s what happened:
I found a room to rent in London. I contacted the guy and we met at his apartment. I took a look at the room and everything seemed ok – except that the guy was from Turkey. I don’t really trust Turks – they’re dodgy.
Stupidity level 1. I was tired of looking around for rentals so I gave the guy the security deposit (one month’s rent) to lock in my room. He said a French girl was still living there and I could move in in 5 days on Monday. I never saw the French girl, but he pointed at the two suitcases which he claimed were her’s.
Safety first I thought and I asked the guy for some ID. He gave me his UK driver’s license and I took a photo of it with my fancy phone. I also asked him to give me a receipt for the deposit which he promptly wrote on a piece of paper. We dated and signed it. Having that piece of paper gave me a bit of a boost in confidence – I thought I could trust this guy.
I didn’t pay the whole security deposit. I paid 200GBP because I couldn’t get any more cash out of the Bank of Santander ATM with my Australian CBA card. I said I’d pay the rest of the deposit the next day.
In the mean time I checked my online banking statement which said I lost about 36AUD on that transaction. I wasn’t very happy about that and started to look into ways to minimize my transaction costs.
Stupidity level 2. Next day I met with Turkey. He had “great” news. He said he saw an oven which was for sale for 200GBP and said it would be perfect for the apartment. I like cooking and baking so I liked the idea of having an oven in the flat. He didn’t want this deal to disappear and needed cash quickly. He asked me if I could give him the first month’s rent as well. Earlier we agreed that I’d pay it on the day I move in. I thought it was best to withdraw larger amounts of cash from the ATM to minimize transaction costs so I decided to trust the guy. I gave him another 200GBP in cash. This time I got no receipt.
Turkey also offered to help me with some other things. I needed to open a UK bank account and he joined me to the bank. We spent some time at Lloyd’s bank but were not successful. I needed proof of address (such as a utility bill to my name with my address) to open a bank account. I went to 2 other banks – HSBC and NatWest – and they said the same thing.
I thought there’s one more thing I need – a National Insurance number. We walked to a Jobcentre Plus to book an appointment. The staff wasn’t very helpful. They gave me a phone number to call. Turkey offered to help and said he could do the talking on the phone. I said “sure”. After the phone call he said that they asked him some tricky questions about working in the UK. It seemed like the government doesn’t hand out NI numbers very easily. I got an appointment for Feb 21st. Yes, they don’t just give you a number, you need to pass an interview first.
Stupidity level 3. On day 3 Turkey called and asked if I could wire him 160 GBP because he wanted to do some paintwork in the room and it’s good to do that when I was out of the room. He said everything would be ready once I moved in. Again I believed the guy. This time I didn’t exactly pay in cash. I went to a bank, handed the teller the cash and said I needed it to go to this-and-this account. I thought it’s a safe way of transferring money because a bank is involved.
Turkey also said he spoke to his electricity provider and said he could add my name to the bill. He needed a copy of my passport for that. I emailed it.
Stupidity level 4. Saturday evening I got a text saying that his mother has some sort of medical emergency and needs to stay at his flat for 4 nights. He mentioned his mother earlier and said he’s had to host her before as well. The hospital is very close to his flat.
This time I had had enough. I said I don’t believe him and his taking advantage of me. He called me and we spoke on the phone for 15 minutes. I called him a scammer and he got very upset about that – what a drama queen. He offered to pay for my hostel for those 4 nights and not take any rent for one week’s time. He wanted me to ‘relax’ and ‘not worry about it’. I agreed to his offer. What else could I do?
So tomorrow I’m going to meet Turkey again and hope that he’ll give me some money for the hostel which I already booked. If he doesn’t show up and avoids my phone calls I will go to a police station and seek legal help.
I feel very stupid at the moment. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Stupid.
I’ve done lots of homework on Google about rental scams and none of them are similar to my story. Usually in a scam you would never see the property, nor meet the scammer in person. You also wouldn’t get to take a picture of the scammer’s driving license and they don’t walk around with you helping with opening bank accounts, getting NI numbers and obtaining proof of address documents. But the fact is I’m out of 560GBP and have nothing to show for it.
I hope all’s legit but I’m worried. Very very worried.
I found three travellers who were looking for another person for their road trip. They picked me up from my hostel and we headed towards Wellington to catch the ferry to South Island. In case you guys don’t know… most of New Zealand is on two islands – North Island and South Island.
My new travel mates are Marvin, Ben and Carina.
Marvin is from Germany. He’s a business chemistry student on a gap year. He’s very fit: six pack and everything – every girl’s wet dream. He reminds me of Oliver – a German who I became good friends with in Australia when I was working on a farm.
Ben is an Australian. He studies psychology and works as an elementary school teacher. He’s on a holiday in New Zealand.
Carina is a young Swiss princess traveling through Australia and NZ on a 6 week holiday. She’s a bit like me – we both smile like idiots in awkward situations to break the tension.
The drive to Wellington (capital of NZ) was quite uneventful. We were in a bit of a hurry because of the ferry. A lot of people travel south in the summer months and it’s a bit tricky to get the car across because the ferries are all booked. I’ve met several travelers who waited 2-6 weeks for a spot on the ferry. Missing it was out of the question.
The weather got very windy and cold. Sailing to the other island was a little bumpy and I got a little seasick which is a first time thing for me. The following journey in the car wasn’t a picnic either. It was raining and we traveled on a windy road which only contributed to my headache and motion sickness. I needed several stops to pull myself together and continue in the car.
The initial plan was to camp somewhere but the weather was so bad we decided to find some proper accommodation. To our surprise almost everything in that area was booked and the few available options were too expensive. Lots of phone calls later we managed to find a 4 person cabin in Nelson.
I was greeted by the local duck mafia next morning. They were following me everywhere in hopes that I’d feed them. I successfully escaped from the mafia and we continued to Nelson Lakes National Park to check out lakes Rotoiti and Rotoroa.
The lakes were beautiful but there were too many sandflies. I didn’t expect that. Those bastards bite and leave a very itchy bump on your skin. They drove us mad. Me and Carina went for a swim in Rotoroa even though the water was very cold. The scenery was amazing and I wanted a picture of me chilling in the water. The lake was so cold. It felt like my back was on fire – my whole body went into shock/panic mode. I only stayed for 30-60 seconds in the water. Never again! But I got good pics 😀
Ben was also happy to guide us through a quick yoga session. Thank you Ben! We really needed a good stretch after all that driving.
In the evening we drove towards Punakaiki to see the Pancake rocks. We got there a bit late so we decided to camp in the neighborhood and visit the rocks again in the morning.
We also saw kiwis at the roadside. At least I thought they were kiwis. I remember shouting and pointing to Ben ‘Look, look! Kiwis!!! Kiwis!!!’ He stopped the car and I ran after the birds with my camera.
It was so exciting!!!
Sadly all that excitement was for nothing. Two locals told us those were wakas, not kiwis. 😦 I was so disappointed.
Wakas
Here’s a bit of culture. A Maori legend about how the Kiwi lost its wings:
One day, Tanemahuta was walking through the forest. He looked up at his children reaching for the sky and he noticed that they were starting to sicken, as bugs were eating them.
He talked to his brother, Tanehokahoka, who called all of his children, the birds of the air together.
Tanemahuta spoke to them.
“Something is eating my children, the trees. I need one of you to come down from the forest roof and live on the floor, so that my children can be saved, and your home can be saved. Who will come?”
All was quiet, and not a bird spoke.
Tanehokahoka turned to Tui.
“E Tui, will you come down from the forest roof?”
Tui looked up at the trees and saw the sun filtering through the leaves. Tui looked down at the forest floor and saw the cold, dark earth and shuddered.
“Kao, Tanehokahoka, for it is too dark and I am afraid of the dark.”
Tanehokahoka turned to Pukeko.
“Pukeko, will you come down from the forest roof?”
Pukeko looked down at the forest floor and saw the cold, damp earth and shuddered.
“Kao, Tanehokahoka, for it is too damp and I do not want to get my feet wet.”
All was quiet, and not a bird spoke.
Tanehokahoka turned to Pipiwharauroa.
“Pipiwharauroa, will you come down from the forest roof?”
Pipiwharauroa looked up at the trees and saw the sun filtering through the leaves. Pipiwharauroa looked around and saw his family.
“Kao, Tanehokahoka, for I am busy at the moment building my nest.”
All was quiet, and not a bird spoke. And great was the sadness in the heart of Tanehokahoka, for he knew, that if one of his children did not come down from the forest roof, not only would his brother loose his children, but the birds would have no home.
Tanehokahoka turned to Kiwi.
“E kiwi, will you come down from the forest roof?”
Kiwi looked up at the trees and saw the sun filtering through the leaves. Kiwi looked around and saw his family. Kiwi looked at the cold damp earth. Looking around once more, he turned to Tanehokahoka and said,
“I will.”
Great was the joy in the hearts of Tanehokahoka and Tanemahuta, for this little bird was giving them hope. But Tanemahuta felt that he should warn kiwi of what would happen.
“E kiwi, do you realise that if you do this, you will have to grow thick, strong legs so that you can rip apart the logs on the ground and you will loose your beautiful coloured feathers and wings so that you will never be able to return to the forest roof. You will never see the light on day again.”
All was quiet, and not a bird spoke.
“E kiwi, will you come down from the forest roof?”
Kiwi took one last look at the sun filtering through the trees and said a silent goodbye. Kiwi took one last look at the other birds, their wings and their coloured feathers and said a silent goodbye. Looking around once more, he turned to Tanehokahoka and said,
“I will.”
Then Tanehokahoka turned to the other birds and said,
“E Tui, because you were too scared to come down from the forest roof, from now on you will wear the two white feathers at your throat as the mark of a coward.
Pukeko, because you did not want to get your feet wet, you will live forever in the swamp.
Pipiwharauroa, because you were too busy building your nest, from now on you will never build another nest again, but lay your eggs in other birds nests.
But you kiwi, because of your great sacrifice, you will become the most well known and most loved bird of them all.”
The End
We spent some time checking out the Pancake Rocks and then headed towards the glaciers. The first one we visited was the Franz Joseph glacier.
A glacier is basically a big chunk of ice. I didn’t really know what to expect.
So we got there, walked a good half hour and took some pictures of the glacier – nothing too exciting. There were many warning signs about potential hazards like rocks falling, sudden floodings etc. The glacier was quite far away from the viewing point.
Later we headed towards the Fox glacier. The distance from the car park to the glacier was longer than at Franz Joseph. Me and Marvin ran most of the distance.
I liked that we could walk much closer to the Fox glacier than to Franz Joseph. Me and Marvin decided to ignore the warning signs and go on our own little exploration tour. We had to touch the ice!
Getting to the glacier was no big deal really but the potential for hazards was very real. We saw some rocks falling down the cliffs from a distance.
Crisis
We continued towards Queenstown and noticed a beautiful lake next to the road. We stopped for some pictures. Later went for a swim in the Blue Pools (the water was freezing).
Our first crisis was in Queenstown. I wanted to visit Milford Sound but Marvin and Carina didn’t really want to go there and Ben was OK with visiting it. We wasted a lot of time trying to figure out a plan but ended up all going to Milford Sound.
We got to Milford Sound early in the morning. The cruise was very nice but the weather was a bit too foggy. I loved it anyway. It’s a beautiful place.
We also visited the Mirror lakes and The Chasm on our way back.
I wanted to see penguins at Dunedin. We got there in the morning but penguins only come out late in the evening when the sun goes down. We visited a museum and drove towards Oamaru.
On our way we visited the Moeraki boulders.
In Oamaru, we were fortunate to see some penguins at the beach where we had dinner. Benn picked some mussels from the beach and they later cooked them.
Now we set our sights towards Mt Cook – the highest mountain in New Zealand. Lake Tekapo was on our way. Since we’ve been camping every night for a while (two sleeping in the tent, two in the car), we decided it’s time for some luxury.
We spent most of the day at a hot water spa next to Lake Tekapo. I think I’ve never been cleaner.
Mount Cook was our destination. We went to a tourist information center to plan our visit. The trio decided to rent bikes and visit some glaciers, I decided not to rent a bike. I don’t really like cycling – especially in the mountains and wanted to walk to the glaciers.
It turned out the track to Hooker Lake and Hooker glacier was no good for bikes. Too many big rocks and very bad terrain. I walked faster than the cyclist trio. They were very unhappy about it.
The bikes were ditched/hidden in the bush and everybody walked to Hooker lake.
I ran a part of the distance and needed to cool down once I got there. That’s why I’m not wearing a shirt in the pics.
Hooker lake was really cool. It had small icebergs floating in it and the glacier was also right there. I got amazing pictures of the place. Marvin almost went for a swim:
We drove to Christchurch – the final destination of our road trip. We spent the first night in a hotel because Ben and Carina wanted to stay near the airport to catch a flight the next day. Two days later Marvin left NZ as well and I was left all alone.
Ivar the Salacious 
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