For those of you who moved out of home early, you may remember the shoe box units, absence of washing machines and various cooking utensils that were missing from your kitchen drawer because you have not quite realised the need for them yet. You know a spatchula is important but so far the use has been to chase your flat mate around in a threathening manner and wedge it in the microwave door that just wont close properly.
Well my apartment is indeed a shoebox which they have flowery refered to as 'Studio' when it is infact a gigantic bedroom with a lounge, desk and TV. Im not one to complain though; because in the grand tradition of 'bachelour/etting I am thrilled that the lounge folds out into a bed.
The kitchen is a hole in the wall with 2 stove tops that the engineer hadnt quite concidered a fry pan and saucepan might just want to be on at the same time. I now am quite skilled at cooking vegetables and meat one after the other while setting off the smoke alarm because the elements are out of whack.
And if that doesnt take you back, the bar fridge with NO freezer, endless supply of chocolate, tea bags and frozen meals will make you feel at ease that in order to go forward in life you have to remember what it was like to struggle a little bit. In all honesty I actually enjoying it.
Photos to come of random things in the city i love.
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