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Flats to rent: London


islingtonclaret

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Used to live in Wimbledon. Initially in a beautiful town house on the Ridgeway next to Wimbledon Common. There was a bit of a vibe about the place then. In the house was: a beautiful art student - Jo, a predatory North African homosexual - Christian, a new age artist/meditation guru called Jamie and a couple I'd landed a job with. Jamie went off to live with a witch in France. He appeared at the door wide eyed, months later. The witch had imprisoned him. He'd just about managed to escape her clutches, at the expense of leaving all his stuff behind. The only thing he'd got left was the contents of his shoulder bag.

 

That was only temporary and I found a place in Wimbledon proper. Moved in the first weekend, second weekend I returned to the Midlands to see friends and family. When I got back to London the flat was empty. A guy appeared at the door the next day. He was my new landlord's brother. Bob, my landlord in his early 30s, had died from an asthma attack in the flat whilst I was away :(.

 

Was given a month to find another place. During this time people were ringing the house phone looking for Bob. I'd been given a number for people to ring, and I just gave people the number rather than breaking the bad news myself. One caller was obstinate, wouldn't take the number and harried me for information. I was 19 at the time. After a few minutes of interrogation I just snapped and told her firmly I was really very sorry but Bob was dead. She thought I was having a laugh. That just made things worse.

 

She rang me at work a couple of days later and offered me a room at her place. She was a backing singer by trade, she's on a 'Kiss From A Rose' by Seal and IIRC she was working with Robin Guthrie at the time.

 

She'd got rid of the room's previous occupant because he was a pervert, and was on the police shortlist for Rachel Nickel's murder on Wimbledon Common.

 

Affordable anything in Wimbledon, especially the Village, is history these days. The vibe has gone.

Edited by Xann
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Used to live in Wimbledon. Initially in a beautiful town house on the Ridgeway next to Wimbledon Common. There was a bit of a vibe about the place then. In the house was a beautiful art student - Jo, a predatory North African homosexual - Christian, a new age artist/meditation guru called Jamie and a couple I'd landed a job with. Jamie went off to live with a witch in France. He appeared at the door wide eyed months later. The witch had imprisoned him. He'd just about managed to escape her clutches, at the expense of leaving all his stuff behind. The only thing he'd got left was the contents of his shoulder bag.

 

That was only temporary and I found a place in Wimbledon proper. Moved in the first weekend, second weekend I returned to the Midlands to see friends and family. When I got back to London the flat was empty. A guy appeared at the door the next day. He was my new landlord's brother. Bob, my landlord in his early 30s, had died from an asthma attack in the flat whilst I was away :(.

 

Was given a month to find another place. During this time people were ringing the house phone looking for Bob. I'd been given a number for people to ring, and I just gave people the number rather than breaking the bad news myself. One caller was obstinate, wouldn't take the number and harried me for information. I was 19 at the time. After a few minutes of interrogation I just snapped and told her firmly I was really very sorry but Bob was dead. She thought I was having a laugh. That just made things worse.

 

She rang me at work a couple of days later and offered me a room at her place. She was a backing singer by trade, she's on a 'Kiss From On A Rose' by Seal and IIRC she was working with Robin Guthrie at the time.

 

She'd got rid of the room's previous occupant because he was a pervert, and was on the police shortlist for Rachel Nickel's murder on Wimbledon Common.

 

Affordable anything in Wimbledon, especially the Village, is history these days. The vibe has gone.

 

The vibe hasn't gone, you have just gotten old and miserable ;)

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I got offered a full time post in London yesterday.

 

It was never ever going to happen, just a lovely ego boost. But this timely thread does reinforce the decision to say no spectacularly easily. I was able to go home and announce 'I turned down a new job today'.

 

Twenty five years ago it was my absolute ambition to be based in London. If I'd actually managed it twenty five years ago there's every chance I'd now either have a property I could cash in and retire off to the coast - or I'd be long dead. 

 

Not absolutely sure that helps with the flat hunting, I just needed to share. 

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Walthamstow market was a revelation a couple of months ago

I'd never been there and presumed it would be a dozen trellis tables like what they do on EastEnders.

 

It stretched for miles.

 

I had lunch in the 'authentic Albanian' place close to the tube station. Ham and cheese croissant and a chocolate brownie with a cappucino. Very sophisticated these Albanians. 

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Walthamstow market was a revelation a couple of months ago

I'd never been there and presumed it would be a dozen trellis tables like what they do on EastEnders.

 

It stretched for miles.

 

I had lunch in the 'authentic Albanian' place close to the tube station. Ham and cheese croissant and a chocolate brownie with a cappucino. Very sophisticated these Albanians. 

 Longest street market in Europe, allegedly.

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London is a shit place to live and gives you terrible value, what I pay out a month would get me a 4 bedroom house in a nice part of Birmingham, I can't wait to get out of this shit hole.

But that depends whether the industry/job exists in another part of the country to give you enough money to pay for that 4 bedroom house? I earn more down here than I'd ever earn in any other part of the UK. I wouldn't be able to get an equivalent job anywhere else.

I think it's great. It's a truly world class city with loads going on. Personally, even if I could find an equivalent job, paying money so I could afford a four bedroom house, I'd still not want to live in somewhere like Birmingham again. I'd be swapping a buzzing capital city for a retarded, sleepy backwater just for a couple more bedrooms.

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I've started a debate, and I didn't want to. I wanted to know if anyone had any contacts or knew anyone that could help me.

 

But, I might as well inform people to fuel the debate:

 

I am moving into temporary accommodation on Sunday. I had to, I broke the contract. If I didn't, the agents would have not played ball trying to break the contract which would have finished June 2015.

 

So, I have three flatmates sorted, four people looking near east.

 

Now the philosophical debates:

I wanted to move to London since I was about 14 because I wanted to be stuck in the action. I like it.

It's the fact that getting on the Chiltern Line from Snow Hill to Marylebone takes you to not just the capital of your country, but to one of the most important cities in the world.

I love being a Brummie here. It gives me an infinite excuse to laugh at London attitudes. I scare bus drivers by saying "thank you" when I get off. More the point, I scare other passengers when I do it.

I don't even sound Brummie at all unless I'm holding a conversation with another West Midlander. Then it creeps out.

I love taking my time with things, and making some bellend scream "YOU NEED TO SCAN THAT CELERY FASTER!" at a Supermarket, when there are more things to get angry about in the world.

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I love living in London but I wouldn't long term.  There is no way in hell I would earn the money I do if I worked in the Midlands.  Although like Islington I do enjoy freaking people out by being ultra nice.  My favourite thing to do is have an enjoyable conversation on the tube.  People hate it.

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Walthamstow market was a revelation a couple of months ago

I'd never been there and presumed it would be a dozen trellis tables like what they do on EastEnders.

 

It stretched for miles.

 

I had lunch in the 'authentic Albanian' place close to the tube station. Ham and cheese croissant and a chocolate brownie with a cappucino. Very sophisticated these Albanians. 

 

I moved to Walthamstow a few months ago. Decent place, not too much 'vibe' to be honest, more of a young families and various immigrants sort of place, but some great pubs, excellent transport, and the village is lovely. Epping Forest a short cycle away too. 

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Walthamstow is pretty pricey, and is much bigger than I thought - it's got like about 5 stations. 

 

I spent ages looking for a place to buy - started in Walthamstow and moved further and further towards the river until we got a place in East Ham. The area is OK - kind of like Sparkhill was about 10 years ago. It was more or less the only place we could afford, given the craziness of people offering 20% over asking price. I saw a 2 bed flat in Walthamstow on for £285k, eventually get sold for £385k. I wouldn't suggest renting / sharing in East Ham though - more just a way of getting on the ladder.

 

If you are looking for a short term share, you should have a look at Statford. There are loads of flats that people have snapped up in the Olympic Village, which have spare rooms, as they look to soften the blow of the mortgage.

 

The transport links are pretty good - Canary Wharf, The City, Dalston, H&I and Oxford Circus are all on direct trains / tubes. The social scene is getting better there as well. Granted, there are still a few shit holes, although nowhere near as many as where I am now.

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