I arrived in Toronto on Thursday
June 23, thinking I would have plenty of time to get settled in before
start of work on July 1. In fact, I had these romantic images of waltzing into
a furnished apartment, putting my bags down and getting on the next bus to
Niagara falls. Alas, the reality could not be further from this fantasy.
I was so jetlagged on Friday that I woke up at 3am and couldn’t sleep anymore. The air mattress had started leaking some time in the night, and I woke up enveloped in an air mattress bubble. I tried sleeping sideways, diagonally, starfish, legs off the mattress – every contortion I could think of. But it wasn’t to be, and I ended up getting up at 6:30am for a swim. Watching the sun come up as I did laps was therapeutic, and I set out to do the day’s errands sleep deprived but lighthearted. Criminal record office, mobile plan, bank account, university registration, meeting with the supervisor of training… In between all that, I somehow did no real estate activities, but I patted myself on the back thinking I had done so much life admin in one day. Everything else would follow, right?
On Saturday I compensated for my lack of sleep the two previous nights with an epic sleep in until 2pm. When I woke up and saw the clock, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I started looking on Kijiji and the millions of ads on there, sending out lots of enquiries. So many that I had to start taking notes like “Bright clean safe”.
On Sunday I continued the mad Kijiji scramble, but a few people had responded to my queries so I was able to set up a few appointments. The first place I went to at 57 St Joseph St was a recently finished condo which was, well, not really finished. The painting was in progress and the whole place smelled like renovations. The flat was tiny though it had a huge balcony (who needs a balcony in freezing Toronto winters?) Then we went to 210 Simcoe and met A, the super hardworking real estate agent who was out working on Sunday afternoon! The place was tiny and I felt pretty claustrophobic in there. We went to see a couple more places on Richmond St but the building was also unfinished and I really hated the new paint smell. Afterwards we had a short break in Tim Hortons (including my first encounter with Timbits!) and then continued the hunt. The next place at 38 Grenville was really beautiful and I loved it as soon as I walked in – bright and spacious, it was just perfect. The landlady R spoke heavily accented English but seemed really nice, so I applied for it on the spot. The last place of the day was in Lumiere – we were shown around by TC, a heavily plastic surgeried older lady who initially was quite cold but then really warmed up to us and started telling us a million stories. We were trapped in there as she talked for over an hour whilst her husband waited patiently in the car. I was exhausted by the end of all that, and was so glad to wolf down some ramen on the way home.
On Monday morning I was contemplating the two places I had seen the evening before – the bright & airy Grenville St, or the cheaper Lumiere place? R emailed to say that they were very interested in having me as a tenant but would like me to send a month’s deposit to another person’s account. The dodgy radar in my head immediately went off. Who is the landlord? I enquired. R then said that she was the managing agent for the landlords (a purportedly famous man in Toronto and his sister who lives overseas). She said I had “met” him as he was waiting in the stairwell on the day of the inspection. The Stairwell? Surely the landlord would either stay at home (if he didn’t want to see the tenants) or be inside the flat (if he did want to see them). Why would he hide in the stairwell? The alarm bells continued to ring as I started to get emails from the landlord trying to clarify the situation. When I asked to meet him he said he was too busy and for me to go to the Toronto Reference Library – or a far away suburb before 8am the next morning? I thought it was all too dodgy and called it off.
Meanwhile in the afternoon I went to see a furnished place just next door to E’s. The place itself was nothing special but it was fully furnished which was pretty much rare as hen’s teeth in Toronto. The owners were a Chinese couple who said they had bought the place for their daughter when she was studying at the University of Toronto, and now that she had moved back they wanted to rent it out to someone just like me. They had just a couple of requests – that they keep one of the storage cupboards for their things, and that I collect their mail and forward it by fedex. I readily agreed to this in exchange for them getting a queen bed. Then I felt so excited that this was done… we almost went out celebrating. But I had already made an appointment with A to see a couple of places at Murano South and 38 Elm so we went to see those places.. and I loved 38 Elm with its awesome pool and grand piano.
That night I was talking to P and he thought the ads were bare in pictures and seemed dodgy. I did some googling and my heart sank. The place was listed for sale? Were they planning to sell the place as well and I would have to move out? Also there were a bunch of business related things – there was a petroleum and engine oil business registered at the address and the business board had noted they had failed to submit their annual reports. His work brain went into overdrive and I also felt weary.. why couldn’t anything go right?
The next morning Tuesday I called and cancelled on the Chinese place, thinking that the potential stress was not worthwhile. Then I called A and told him I wanted to apply for the 38 Elm place. I felt really relieved when I made that decision – sure I would pay more than what I was planning to pay but the place was really nice. The offer went to the other side and I spent the day exchanging texts and phone calls with A. And in the end it fell through – the landlord declined my application. I felt so desolate that day, like there was nothing I could do right.
The next day, Wednesday, I was determined to find somewhere to live. Work was looming so very close then, and I felt like my week of househunting in Toronto wasn’t getting anywhere. As nice and kind as E was to me, I really felt like I was invading her space without any set plan to move out, like the bad smell that wouldn’t go away. I went on a major expedition with A, checking out 10 places in one afternoon. We started at 210 Simcoe again, and saw a much bigger place than the first place. Then we went up Bay St and saw a bunch of properties. One was covered in pigeon poo. Another had a shattered balcony barrier (on the 20th floor, really?) I really hated the tallest condo Aura (80 stories) which had a hotel like lobby and a fake fireplace, urgh. By the end of looking at those places I was really over it. 210 Simcoe it was. It had to be my lucky place as something amazing happened outside it. It was concreted by the fact that it was close to Lucky Moose (aka Chunky Monkey in my head) and the rest of Chinatown. I figured buying tofu would be easier that way.
But that’s it, I finally found somewhere to live, a bright sunny place in downtown Toronto to call my own. For a year at least.
I was so jetlagged on Friday that I woke up at 3am and couldn’t sleep anymore. The air mattress had started leaking some time in the night, and I woke up enveloped in an air mattress bubble. I tried sleeping sideways, diagonally, starfish, legs off the mattress – every contortion I could think of. But it wasn’t to be, and I ended up getting up at 6:30am for a swim. Watching the sun come up as I did laps was therapeutic, and I set out to do the day’s errands sleep deprived but lighthearted. Criminal record office, mobile plan, bank account, university registration, meeting with the supervisor of training… In between all that, I somehow did no real estate activities, but I patted myself on the back thinking I had done so much life admin in one day. Everything else would follow, right?
On Saturday I compensated for my lack of sleep the two previous nights with an epic sleep in until 2pm. When I woke up and saw the clock, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I started looking on Kijiji and the millions of ads on there, sending out lots of enquiries. So many that I had to start taking notes like “Bright clean safe”.
On Sunday I continued the mad Kijiji scramble, but a few people had responded to my queries so I was able to set up a few appointments. The first place I went to at 57 St Joseph St was a recently finished condo which was, well, not really finished. The painting was in progress and the whole place smelled like renovations. The flat was tiny though it had a huge balcony (who needs a balcony in freezing Toronto winters?) Then we went to 210 Simcoe and met A, the super hardworking real estate agent who was out working on Sunday afternoon! The place was tiny and I felt pretty claustrophobic in there. We went to see a couple more places on Richmond St but the building was also unfinished and I really hated the new paint smell. Afterwards we had a short break in Tim Hortons (including my first encounter with Timbits!) and then continued the hunt. The next place at 38 Grenville was really beautiful and I loved it as soon as I walked in – bright and spacious, it was just perfect. The landlady R spoke heavily accented English but seemed really nice, so I applied for it on the spot. The last place of the day was in Lumiere – we were shown around by TC, a heavily plastic surgeried older lady who initially was quite cold but then really warmed up to us and started telling us a million stories. We were trapped in there as she talked for over an hour whilst her husband waited patiently in the car. I was exhausted by the end of all that, and was so glad to wolf down some ramen on the way home.
On Monday morning I was contemplating the two places I had seen the evening before – the bright & airy Grenville St, or the cheaper Lumiere place? R emailed to say that they were very interested in having me as a tenant but would like me to send a month’s deposit to another person’s account. The dodgy radar in my head immediately went off. Who is the landlord? I enquired. R then said that she was the managing agent for the landlords (a purportedly famous man in Toronto and his sister who lives overseas). She said I had “met” him as he was waiting in the stairwell on the day of the inspection. The Stairwell? Surely the landlord would either stay at home (if he didn’t want to see the tenants) or be inside the flat (if he did want to see them). Why would he hide in the stairwell? The alarm bells continued to ring as I started to get emails from the landlord trying to clarify the situation. When I asked to meet him he said he was too busy and for me to go to the Toronto Reference Library – or a far away suburb before 8am the next morning? I thought it was all too dodgy and called it off.
Meanwhile in the afternoon I went to see a furnished place just next door to E’s. The place itself was nothing special but it was fully furnished which was pretty much rare as hen’s teeth in Toronto. The owners were a Chinese couple who said they had bought the place for their daughter when she was studying at the University of Toronto, and now that she had moved back they wanted to rent it out to someone just like me. They had just a couple of requests – that they keep one of the storage cupboards for their things, and that I collect their mail and forward it by fedex. I readily agreed to this in exchange for them getting a queen bed. Then I felt so excited that this was done… we almost went out celebrating. But I had already made an appointment with A to see a couple of places at Murano South and 38 Elm so we went to see those places.. and I loved 38 Elm with its awesome pool and grand piano.
That night I was talking to P and he thought the ads were bare in pictures and seemed dodgy. I did some googling and my heart sank. The place was listed for sale? Were they planning to sell the place as well and I would have to move out? Also there were a bunch of business related things – there was a petroleum and engine oil business registered at the address and the business board had noted they had failed to submit their annual reports. His work brain went into overdrive and I also felt weary.. why couldn’t anything go right?
The next morning Tuesday I called and cancelled on the Chinese place, thinking that the potential stress was not worthwhile. Then I called A and told him I wanted to apply for the 38 Elm place. I felt really relieved when I made that decision – sure I would pay more than what I was planning to pay but the place was really nice. The offer went to the other side and I spent the day exchanging texts and phone calls with A. And in the end it fell through – the landlord declined my application. I felt so desolate that day, like there was nothing I could do right.
The next day, Wednesday, I was determined to find somewhere to live. Work was looming so very close then, and I felt like my week of househunting in Toronto wasn’t getting anywhere. As nice and kind as E was to me, I really felt like I was invading her space without any set plan to move out, like the bad smell that wouldn’t go away. I went on a major expedition with A, checking out 10 places in one afternoon. We started at 210 Simcoe again, and saw a much bigger place than the first place. Then we went up Bay St and saw a bunch of properties. One was covered in pigeon poo. Another had a shattered balcony barrier (on the 20th floor, really?) I really hated the tallest condo Aura (80 stories) which had a hotel like lobby and a fake fireplace, urgh. By the end of looking at those places I was really over it. 210 Simcoe it was. It had to be my lucky place as something amazing happened outside it. It was concreted by the fact that it was close to Lucky Moose (aka Chunky Monkey in my head) and the rest of Chinatown. I figured buying tofu would be easier that way.
But that’s it, I finally found somewhere to live, a bright sunny place in downtown Toronto to call my own. For a year at least.
