so blue I’ve got the greens (searching for a flat in Munich)

'A Hund ist er scho...'

I’m sure this guy’s got a place to lay his head…somewhere in Munich those dogs have little Dachshund beds…

 

'A Hund ist er scho...'

‘A Hund ist er scho…’

Not sure where I first heard that line, but I think it was a singer one night in San Antonio at Jim Cullum’s place down on the Riverwalk. I’ve always loved the imagery.

Most of you think the the Blues are bad, but you ain’t seen the Greens

To be candid, I’m mostly cheerful in my day-to-day life and not much gets me down. Really. Part of me wants to say that I’ve been too busy to blog, but if I’m really forthright…I don’t want to complain.

My thoughts over the last few months have been entirely related to real estate, and after a while it gets rather dull to talk to such a person. A person such as myself in this situation. Anyone who’s looked for a flat in this town has sympathy to spare when they hear what I’m up to. It’s simply not easy. Not at all.

Ostensibly, there are not enough places to live, and  companies are relocating their people to Munich all the time. As if no-one’s told them that there’s no available flats in the Bavarian capital. Please, tell your people to tell the domestic and international firms sending their employees to Munich to cease and desist. Don’t just cease. Please desist, as well.

Here’s the thing, though. People not only move to this town every damned day, but they find places to live. It’s true.

There are more places than you might think. There are landlords and property managers begging for good tenants. There are investment properties sitting empty, because  the right person to live there simply hasn’t been found. That gives me pause, ya know?

So, rather than avoiding my blog because I simply don’t want to moan and complain all the time, I’ve decided to talk about my search for a flat in detail. I’ll leave the best and worst of it here on my Miscellaneous Blog (what was formerly called a

). What’ll likely happen is that I’ll find something temporary, that allows Ella and Louis to live with me once again (they’ve been at the Hundepension for nearly three weeks), and that’ll buy me time to find the ideal place.

One with a garden. Or one looking out on the mountains. Or simply one that doesn’t eat most of my savings. We’ll see. Wish me luck.