Monday was move in day to the apartment. What an interesting experience that was. Our appointment was scheduled for 2:30 PM. My relocation consultant shows up on time but, In typical French fashion the agent was about 20 minutes late. I've come to realized it isn't because they really want to be late, but parking in Paris sucks!
We get to the building and the agent punches in the code. No sooner are we in the building the concierge comes out of her office wanting to know what we were doing. All in French the two ladies I'm with explain that I'm the new tenant. We introduce ourselves to Fatima, the keeper of the property - the concierge. Now Jill had read about the importance of the concierge so I wanted to be very nice to her. Fatima is probably mid to late 40's, about 4 feet 2 inches and probably half as wide. She is not fat in the traditional sense, but she is solid.
We came into the apartment and the relo consultant, Fabienne, and the agent keep telling me things to remember. When we come in the electric, gas and water don't work. The three of us start turning nobs, pushing buttons and flipping breakers. Finally we realize how clueless we are and call the person who knows the apartment. He shows up in 15 minutes and within 5 minutes we are up and running. Then the two ladies start an inspection of the apartment that was very intense. Every scratch, dent, nail hole or paint scrape was documented. After 1 hour of this, they then inventory every piece of furniture and fixture in the apartment. I just sat in the formal living room and relaxed. So at 6 PM I had the keys and passcodes, the apartment was ours!
It took me 3 trips to and from the hotel to move all my stuff. I stopped at a small market and picked up something for dinner and settled in for my first night in my home away from home.
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