There I was on the phone to my old boss Adrian, you know just saying G’day as I’m prone to doing, shooting the breeze, seeking some form of encouragement, trying to recapture a fleeting sense of self worth (maybe not a bad a thing in my case), when he added “I really enjoy reading your blog Konrad… it’s like watching a soap opera… you wonder what’s going to happen next and hang out for the next episode.” Quite taken aback, I’m not sure which shocked me more, that our adventures were being likened to “Days of our Lives” or that I was hearing an Englishman call a spade a spade :) In that vein however, into our 7th week here in the UK I thought it was about time that I put pen to paper and for both your and my amusement to present the comedy, the tragedy and the drama that has been the Goulaszes’ transition back to life in the real world, in London.
Maybe it was because we had become used to living life at a certain pace, maybe because Garth in his characteristic directness had made it clear that we should only inhabit his living room floor for so long or maybe it was just because we had once again had to lug all our worldly possessions to yet another place and wanted desperately to unpack as soon as was possible but we literally found ourselves hitting the ground running as soon as we arrived in London. Only an hour or so into our first morning we had already identified 5 apartments we had wanted to see that day and with notepad in one hand and London mini A to Z in the other, we darted out the door to brave that typical English summer weather – a beautiful 12 degrees and drizzling.
Popping into both banks along the High Street in Clapham Common – you know just to investigate how we would later have to overcome the task of setting up bank accounts (with no jobs nor a fixed address) – before you knew it we’d found ourselves with mobile phone numbers and we were organizing apartment viewings for that afternoon. In all truth we only saw the one apartment that afternoon; the price was an exorbitant 300 pounds (or 750 bucks) a week + rates and bills, the apartment a not too special one bedder and we really didn’t even pick up on the fact that the landlord was in fact justified in thinking that he was doing us a favor – even though at the time we really did think he was ‘having a laugh’ (to borrow a saying from the Poms). A couple of expressions of interest later, on our second day on the job, with a visiting Nora in tow, we found that even a private apartment between a mosque and a pornographic cinema required referees and jobs and so forth. Not to be too disheartened however (it’s not easy to get a Goulasz down), we had already thought about changing tack and decided to look into sub-letting a room from a dodgy Polak called Lukasz; who’d already rented it out to someone 2 weeks hence. Suffice it to say, with Nora as our witness, this was the low of our search for accommodation – I still wonder how they managed to get a double bed into a room as small as that one. Anyway, we only dealt with one other eastern European (pretty sure she was Polish too) who tried to let us a room short term in a place that had already been sold but where the parties were in the process of exchanging contracts (hey, there’s a two week dossing window there!). Fortunately we ran into 2 Jewish guys that wanted out of their house-share in Hampstead the following day. I guess we really couldn’t believe our luck; lovely area, great big place, good room mates, relatively cheap and a property management company run by two Greek blokes called Nicos and Adonis who couldn’t care less whether we had jobs or money for food or bank accounts or whatever. Bit heartless perhaps but nonetheless just the way we like it.
With a roof over our heads we next had to attend to the task of getting ourselves off the Australian Peso – you know it really doesn’t buy you very much on this side of the world. CVs were updated with the utmost urgency and even losing access to an unsecured wireless LAN from Garth’s place (sorry about that mate but honestly it was just a matter of time until you guys lost your free internet), was really only a tiny bump in the road; our resolve was absolute and no hindrance was going to stop us from getting highly paid, professional, short term work in London! That was of course until we encountered the London variety of that pariah of the business world: Enter the Recruitment Consultant!
Following a fantastic few interviews in that first week out of our Hampstead living room office, there were Directorships aplenty; the opportunities here were just mind blowing, the dynamism, the energy, the buzz in the market was electric. And coming into the Bank Holiday long weekend, having a couple of pints with Dany and Clare, you couldn’t contain our excitement and enthusiasm; Sam said “this will be an amazing opportunity”; Rachel said “you’ll be employed sooner rather than later”; Mary “the market is starved of your experience”. Now I know what you’re thinking, you guys weren’t born yesterday... c’mon… and yes I guess you’re right, we should have known that the only skill ever exhibited by the trusted recruiter is spinning a bit of a yarn and that one should not to believe a word of it. I’m not making excuses here (ok maybe I am), but look we’d been traveling for a little while, we just weren’t used to hearing nor spinning bullshit 24/7.
Now, to offer a fair account, there must be some admittance of naïve stupidity on our part; as there is. Nic’s never been too comfortable lying (even though she’s fantastic at it :)); and me, well I’m just absolutely useless at offering any less than all the information in the world on any particular subject (just get me started); and while this did result in each of us flunking one client interview in the first two weeks of job hunting, following this seemingly unstoppable momentum in the first week, the otherwise unemployable, friendly Job Spec to CV matcher was literally no where to be found. The task for us had thus become that of recruiting recruitment consultants and hounding them to be put forward for any job whatsoever. In the frustration Nic had even considered adding ‘tea making’ to her list of job skills (this is highly prized here I believe) as she presented to a secretarial recruiter who wasn’t quite sure whether her diary management skills (read ability to use Outlook) were quite on the mark for those top-level ‘sechetary’ jobs.
With Pesos running thinner by the day, when Mick and Bel, completely chilled from lazing on a yacht off the coast of Turkey, came to relieve us from our stir crazy living room existence we really had no idea what was going on. Nic’s verbal acceptance of a PA position she hadn’t even interviewed for was still under consideration and I guess my posse at the time of 7 recruitment consultants had finally felt somewhat obliged to put me forward for a few jobs but the question really was what the hell are we doing here again? I’m not sure we’re having all that much fun going nuts here in our living room! Within this environment it was obviously great to have close friends offer us encouragement, get us out of the house and make us drown our frustrations (literally) for a couple of days.
Taking matters into our hands the following week, Nic applied for a job direct, had two interviews in quick succession and got a Senior Account Manager position in a marketing agency on a 6 month contract. I ended up going direct to an employer for a pseudo permanent position (yes we had even considered staying here indefinitely) only to also interview twice over the following 2 weeks… and well, I’m still waiting to hear back from the employer, who’s recruitment manager has since gone on holiday. Since then, now two weeks ago, I’ve recruited 4 other recruiters (which makes 9 interviews with recruiters over 7 weeks… that’s got to be worthy of a record?) and off the back of one of them I found myself in front of a good investment management house for a Performance Analyst position this week which has now been officially offered to me – highly paid, professional, short term work in London! Success! Third time lucky, though I suppose it was only a matter of time until perseverance finally paid off. (Having said that we could have done without the stress – we are supposed to be on holiday after all!)
Whilst the transition back to life in the big smoke has definitely come as a rude shock to the system we have of course managed to have a few crazy adventures over the last few weeks here just the same: Apart from the whirlwind visits of Nora, Dany and Clare and Mick and Bel which I’ve already mentioned, we were stoked to be able to get together with Garth and Billy Boy (who was visiting on business) for a one night only rendition of “Val d’Isere, yeah, yeah, yeah” (ref La Meilleure Station du Monde post) in Covent Garden – you get your arse back here Billy! Nic managed to resurrect a long lost friend Sarah (from her last ski season in Meribel) through Facebook, which resulted in us finding ourselves out in Bracknell (South West of London) a few weekends ago for her 30th Birthday: We did a day trip out to Bath, Stonehenge and Windsor in a Smart Car that looked very much like a 2Lt Ford Mondeo (sixT rentals – great value!). We’ve managed to run into some interesting types at a Hampstead institution called the Duke of Hamilton; like Ricardo the mild mannered writer who’s convinced himself that he was once a gangster in Kings Cross (Sydney) and his derelict white wine spritzer drinking artist/painter mate Grant from Zim’: We’ve found ourselves unwittingly consuming someone else’s Veuve Clicquot and accompanying white chocolate raspberries with Garth at the Tabby Cat Lounge: We had the pleasure of attending Adrian’s 60th Birthday dinner in Cobham & Stoke d’Abernon – Happy Birthday again! Not to mention the obligatory sightseeing of Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, The London Eye, Piccadilly Circus, Regent Street, Portobello Rd, Borough St Market, Camden Town, Brick Lane just to name a few. Suffice it to say despite the hardship and drama there have been more than a few laughs along the way.
We’re off to the Cotswolds this weekend in a ‘Wicked Camper’, there’s Manu Chao on Tuesday, we’re flying to Stockholm next weekend, an Amsterdam trip has been booked in with Scott, John we’re still waiting on our Edinburgh invitation :) and given that the money will now be flowing in the opposite direction for a while we’re bound to have a few more laughs to share with you into the future.
‘Til next time.
