17 years ago, in April 2008, I had been actively looking for a new flat (apartment) for about a year. My decision to move had been made even earlier, though - following early retirement in 2004 because of chronic neck/arm pain (including difficulties to carry things up/down stairs); and then, on top of that, in the summer of 2006, major surgery of other kind making things even more difficult for a while.
I knew what I wanted: A flat of about the same size as the one I had, but preferably with three rooms instead of two; in a building with a lift (elevator) (which we did not have where I lived); closer to the city centre, but not too noisy; and not situated on the top a steep hill... (I felt I had had enough of that, too, after 22 years.)
When I started looking for such a place, it proved easier said than done to find it, though.
But finally, at the end of April, 2008, one such flat, owned by the municipal housing company, was announced available on short notice (2 months rather than the usual 3). I went to have a look at the building from outside. The location seemed ok - away from the main road and traffic noise. The building was only three storeys high, but had a lift - and also a sturdy, "straight" staircase with handrails on both sides, instead of a narrow spiral one (as at my old place). Not on top of a steep hill, and closer to the city centre than my previous flat.
I returned home and registered my interest immediately; and the very next day I was able to go back and have a look inside. The previous tenants were a young family with two small children, who were going to move to a bigger flat; and the mum was home and showed me around. I asked if I could also take a few photos, and was allowed to do so.
The first thing that caught my eye when I entered the kitchen was the view from the window there. Below is the photo I took of the kitchen on that visit - 28 April, 2008. I loved the fact that there were trees outside, and the next building not too close.
Looking out the same window yesterday and taking a mental walk down "Memory Lane", I then managed to also locate the kitchen window photo I took that day on an old photo CD:
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| 28th April, 2008 |
The flat was available from 1 July, i.e. just two months away. Standard notice period here is 3 months, but I had counted on needing one month's "margin" for the move anyway (i.e. I was prepared to pay double rent for one month, rather than have to rely on others moving out and myself moving in on the same day).
I liked the layout of the flat, too; and as soon as I got back home, I contacted the housing company's office. They said that as no one else had registred interest (probably because of the short notice), it was mine if I wanted it. I signed the contract at their office on 29th April, and also managed to give 3 months notice to my old landlord about moving, at the very last moment. (30th April is Walpurgis Night in Sweden, with offices usually closing early, if open at all.)
The next couple of months I remember as a frenzy of planning and fixing and packing. There were also some things that needed fixing in the new flat after the old tenants moved out, but before I moved in: like new wallpaper in most of the rooms. But I managed to negotiate with the landlord's office to get that done during the first three weeks in July; and on the 24th of that month, I moved in.
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| The day after the Big Move - 25th July, 2008 |
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| 28th April, 2025 |
17 years later, I still love the view from my kitchen window. The trees outside have kept growing taller and taller; and in summer, greenery is pretty much all I see from my favourite spot at the kitchen table now. (And even in winter it's quite a nice view from there.)
