Short-Lets and Long Days

It’s been one week of moving.
“Moving” meaning many, many things:

Definition 1: Motion. (i.e. planes, trains, tubes, taxis, buses, and most importantly, feet.)
Definition 2: Being “moved” by emotion, elation, calm, panic, and contentedness.
And finally, Definition 3: “moving” into a flat.


Finding a flat for four months in London is a bit similar to finding low-fat milk in Italy. Not easy.

After a quick and painless flight to Heathrow, I settled in at the Royal National—a hotel similar to a giant, international dorm in Bloomsbury. My classmates and I were not there to relax, but rather to use the hotel as something similar to a base camp from which the five of us would research potential three-bedroom flat options and make endless phone calls before venturing out into residential unknown.

Difficulties arose in finding housing due to London’s letting laws that encourage 6 or 12 month leases. Therefore, a 4 month short lease (or “let,” as it is called here) is not easy to come by. With the help of a list of leasing agents provided by Syracuse, we were guided towards agencies that might be able to accommodate us. But not without a bit of panic, first.

Day 1 of flat hunting was less than fruitful. After viewing a basement flat with little natural lighting, excessive mirrors, and ornate décor that included gigantic shell-shaped wall hangings as well as the reoccurring color peach, we were a bit discouraged. This feeling was not helped by our next appointment, a flat off Edgware Road. Surrounded by casinos and commercial establishments, we felt less than fuzzy regarding our potential “neighborhood.” Matters were not helped by the furnishings—I think it is a fair assumption that architecture students are not generally drawn to Mickey Mouse sheets and crystal chandeliers.

Day 2 was fortuitous. After making several calls, I was told by a leasing agent to come straight to a flat off Baker Street, as it was about to be snatched up by other potential leasers. Huffing and puffing from a flat-out run from the tube, James and I entered the perfect apartment on the perfect street in the center of London’s West End. After a minute of discussion and the pressure of our tenant opponents debating money in the living room, we called our three roommates, had them meet us, and agreed to take the apartment.




One 4-month lease later, a trip to Ikea near Wembley Park, and a night of giggling and unpacking, the five of us are now home. With a lively local pub on the corner as well as cafes, shopping, and morning-run access to Regents and Hyde Park only five minutes away, we are settled and ready to begin class tomorrow.



Next: Stay tuned for an update on taking the leap from tourist to architecture student as studio commences tomorrow…