The German Landlord

After a couple exasperating days in this godforsaken hotel with a kitchen down the hall, which only has 3 chairs and a dirty sponge, with these three loud and boisterous cabin-fevered kids, we'd had it. Better start house shopping this instant.

And it seemed as though our timing might have been perfect. At the housing office at 2pm a listing had just been put in 10 minutes ago... a house close in, 4 BR, 2500 sqft, 2000 euros, seemed to good to be true! After a quick viewing, we knew we loved the house at once. Come to find out these German landlord-types don't just get your email and cell phone number and a thank you, please let us know- as we do in the US. When she invited us inside for coffee and juice, I did the polite (American) thing and nicely refused, saying that we were fine, we're all fine, no the kids don't need anything, no we don't need a snack, no you do not need to make me a cappuccino. This would not do. Oh no, this would not do.

You have to come to their home, take your coat off, sit down and have coffee (pray your kids don't act up) and visit a while so they can get to know you.

Over a couple cappuccinos--made right in the kitchen with her spiffy cappuccino-machine-oven combo (only by Bosch, I'm sure) we proceeded to engage in quite an interview (love affair) with this Silvia and Billy. Apparently they didn't think the childless couple who proceeded us needed that much room, and the family that was to follow us had children too young for the number of stairs in the house. They had already made up their mind: we were it. We were the perfect large (but not too large) family for this 4-floor (5 if you include the cellar) apartment. And, it was perfect for us!

Until... "Oh, we don't allow cats or dogs." The guillotine came down and all hopes at the table were dashed. As they explained their exclusive policy on no-pets, voted on unanimously by all the owners, the husband still held out hope that we might wiggle our pet out of the picture. "Maybe if the dog was only here on weekends; you could have it stay somewhere else during the week." He even bent down to explain to little Evelyn that if her little doggie just visited sometimes instead of lived with her, she could have the nice little house that she loved. And as he walked us solomnly out to the car, his arm around Ric, "I know how important pets are to children. Do you think they could do with a rabbit or something?" Honestly, they loved us.

So much that they even found another available house in the village nearby that might do (and it takes pets). We quickly sped over there and found a very European cottage, climbing ivy and all, view of the rolling green hills and all, wine cellar and all. But Ric found it too small, too tight, too cottag-y. So we're still looking.

So we learned that these Germans are very serious about choosing their tenants. They are the ones doing the choosing. There is no question. There is no first-come first-serve over here.

But as we drive over the cobblestone streets, through the adorable villages, farmland separating each of them... I'm pretty sure that we'll grow to love it here.