London
After a month and a half of living out of a backpack I was really looking forward to having my own place again, but before I could do that I needed to find a charitable soul who could put me up while I found this haven.
The lucky people were my great Aunt Iris and great Uncle Eddie. The put me up for just over a week, while I looked for a place to stay and a job. The place to stay was easy to find, I wish I could say the same about the job!
The first place I found was perfect...big room, large garden, friendly people all around my age and single...unfortunately the room wasn't available for another 2 weeks....2 weeks I didn't have. So instead I moved into Woodhurst road. What a shithole...
Exhibit (A) left, my room was on the top floor.
Exhibit (B) bleow, the back lawn....mmmm, aint it pretty?
I spent 2 months there and got along well with everyone, but couldn't wait to get out of there.
The last month I spent at Woodhurst was soooo depressing. I couldn't get a job, I was running out of money, I only knew about 2 people and it was becoming obvious that I was going to have to go back to NZ WAY before I wanted to. Eventually I got down to my last £300 and I had to choose between a one way flight home, or another months rent. I wimped out and bought the ticket.
Just when I was at my lowest and had resigned myself to going back to NZ. I got a phone call asking me to got to an interview with Electronics Boutique. I went and 3 days before I was due to fly home . . . I got offered a job. I almost turned it down too, because I was so anti London at that stage that stage that I just wanted out. But I'm glad I stayed now.
On the left is the company flat that EB put me up in for about 3 weeks while I found another place to stay.
