"There's no such thing as a perfect apartment," warned my ex-boss, who lived and still owns property in Amsterdam. It might be in a great location, but tiny and with vertiginous staircases; spacious, but expensive; cheap, but with wooden beams poking out of odd places, or visitors having to enter directly into the kitchen instead of a proper entryway.
So far I've found this to be true. Working with two different housing agents (one assigned by the relocation agency, another that I found off the Net) and seeing 18 apartments over three days of viewing, I got a mixed bag of hits and misses. Marlon was only with me for the first day; I took over when he started work.
There were a couple of places boasting that Holy Grail of real estate, a classic Amsterdam canal view. One of the first apartments we saw was along the Singel, one of the famous canals in the city center. When the agent drove into this area, kinilig talaga kami ni Marlon.
It even had a fireplace!
It also had a pair of Roman pillars in the bedroom. Roman pillars! So, thanks but no thanks.
Another canal-side apartment was sunk into a basement. A priceless canal view can be yours, if you can see past the various-feet view and dog-poop-on-the-street view.
A corner apartment on the Prinsengracht had this view in front...
From centuries-old buildings, we headed off to the newer part of town. Newer in the sense that the buildings were built in the 1920s lang naman. Amsterdam hosted the Olympics in 1928 and built accommodations for the athletes, near the Olympic Stadium in the Zuid (pronounced Zoud, which means, you guessed it, South). This explains why the buildings all look alike. Still, a lot of them have little details characteristic of the era.
We even found one that we really liked.
We also saw one with a garden and a small studio, but figured maintaining the garden was too big of a commitment. Neither of us have had much luck with plants.
One of the apartments in the low end of our budget range had some very... distinctive, and, er, historical marks embossed into the old metal doors.
Dahil sa madugong kasaysayan ng lugar na ito, na-afraid ako sa mga bagay na hindi nakikita, na baka makita ko. Pero mas na-afraid ako sa hagdan.
But rather depressing, cell-like bedrooms.
Far east of the city, in a sort of industrial/dock area called Zeeburg, was a nice corner apartment with tons of light, and a sweet dining nook.
But, in the words of the housing agent: "Here we have a very different part of town." And in the words of Ellen, my relocation agency yaya for the day, "This neighborhood is not so nice." Hindi naman siya ghetto. But all the gray cement blocks just don't say Amsterdam to me.
As Anna, our previous relocation consultant said about another apartment, "It could be anywhere. It could be in Denmark, for goodness' sake." (No offense to the Danes, of course.) The apartment she was referring to was an absolute no-no for Marlon. Paano ba naman, the master bedroom looks directly into the Philips tower, one of their two offices in the city.
Kamusta namang your colleagues can just look into your bedroom to see if you're really at home when you call in sick? And thank goodness Europe doesn't have much of an overtime culture, because Marlon would hate for his colleagues to know what goes on at night!
So far I've found this to be true. Working with two different housing agents (one assigned by the relocation agency, another that I found off the Net) and seeing 18 apartments over three days of viewing, I got a mixed bag of hits and misses. Marlon was only with me for the first day; I took over when he started work.
There were a couple of places boasting that Holy Grail of real estate, a classic Amsterdam canal view. One of the first apartments we saw was along the Singel, one of the famous canals in the city center. When the agent drove into this area, kinilig talaga kami ni Marlon.
Imagine looking out your window and enjoying this view every day.
It even had a fireplace!
It also had a pair of Roman pillars in the bedroom. Roman pillars! So, thanks but no thanks.
Another canal-side apartment was sunk into a basement. A priceless canal view can be yours, if you can see past the various-feet view and dog-poop-on-the-street view.
Look down, look down, don't look 'em in the eye
A corner apartment on the Prinsengracht had this view in front...
... and a touristy strip of bars and restaurants on the side. "I should probably let you know that this is... not the quietest area in Amsterdam," the owner suggested delicately. Got the message loud and clear.
From centuries-old buildings, we headed off to the newer part of town. Newer in the sense that the buildings were built in the 1920s lang naman. Amsterdam hosted the Olympics in 1928 and built accommodations for the athletes, near the Olympic Stadium in the Zuid (pronounced Zoud, which means, you guessed it, South). This explains why the buildings all look alike. Still, a lot of them have little details characteristic of the era.
Zuid seems far from Marlon's office on the map, but one thing I've come to realize (after every Dutch person I know telling me this) is that Amsterdam is tiny and that everything is pretty close by. In this area, the apartments started looking less... er, quirky, and more livable. They were more spacious, too.
We even found one that we really liked.
We also saw one with a garden and a small studio, but figured maintaining the garden was too big of a commitment. Neither of us have had much luck with plants.
One of the apartments in the low end of our budget range had some very... distinctive, and, er, historical marks embossed into the old metal doors.
Dahil sa madugong kasaysayan ng lugar na ito, na-afraid ako sa mga bagay na hindi nakikita, na baka makita ko. Pero mas na-afraid ako sa hagdan.
I ventured far west of the city, to an area called De Baarsjes. Though it's walking distance to the Vondelpark, Amsterdam's own version of Central Park, medyo hindi kanais-nais ang lugar. Again, a mixed bag—a roof terrace...
But rather depressing, cell-like bedrooms.
Far east of the city, in a sort of industrial/dock area called Zeeburg, was a nice corner apartment with tons of light, and a sweet dining nook.
But, in the words of the housing agent: "Here we have a very different part of town." And in the words of Ellen, my relocation agency yaya for the day, "This neighborhood is not so nice." Hindi naman siya ghetto. But all the gray cement blocks just don't say Amsterdam to me.
Kamusta namang your colleagues can just look into your bedroom to see if you're really at home when you call in sick? And thank goodness Europe doesn't have much of an overtime culture, because Marlon would hate for his colleagues to know what goes on at night!
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