The ups and downs of flat-hunting in London

I had intended to wait for a happy ending before I launched into the tale of my latest flat-hunting adventures. But, yesterday marked exactly one week until I must vacate my lovely Florence Street flat, and I am no closer to finding a new home than when I first embarked on the search a few weeks ago.

It was a hard decision to give up my flat. I have spent one amazing year here. But rents are up and I need to save a bit of money every month. It turned out, once the flat was on the market and then quickly let, that finding another two bedroom in the neighbourhood I love, and to save a few quid on rent each month, was a better idea than it was a reality.

My roomie of three months, Donna, who took over Lauren’s room when she returned to Canada, had a very different list of flat requirements than I did, the most important of which was the preferred borough. She wanted to be closer to work (near Victoria station, so Pimlico, South Kensington, Chelsea, Fulham) and I was having serious issues imagining a life outside of Angel, or Islington in general.

So we have decided to part ways, as flatmates but not friends, and she soon found a lovely flat in Pimlico, with an 8-minute walk to the office. Meanwhile, I have spent the month of August seeing flat after flat, and am still essentially homeless. I am looking into flatshares, and have seen 12 flats in the past two weeks, but that perfect new home still evades me.

This is not to say that I didn’t love any of those 12 flats. In fact, I did. I fell in love with three of them. But those flats didn’t love me. Hunting for a flatshare is much like dating: Even if you meet a guy you like, feel the chemistry and the attraction, it doesn’t mean that he is going to feel the same way. The rejection is like that empty-stomach-drop of a break-up with a really great guy. It is gutting.

So, imagine having your heart broken three times in three weeks. Now you can imagine my general emotional state these past few weeks.

The first flat I fell for was off Essex Road, really close to my cousin Pearl’s. The rent was ideal, the girls who lived there were super-friendly, and the place was really adorable, with large living and dining area, and a great kitchen that opened into a backyard. I expressed interest, waited with bated breath for a second date, but they chose someone else instead.

The next flat came along the same week, this time off Upper Street, with three mixed-sex roomies, large living area and backyard space, and a young, down-to-earth landlord. For this flat, I even went on a group date with my potential new roomies – meeting one Irish girl, one French guy and one Aussie lad at a local pub. I really put myself out there. But, it turned out they had been seeing someone else the whole time. Though they were stringing along three other possible roomies, they had already essentially planned to give the room to one of their friends.

Flat #3 was at Highbury Corner, 30 steps from my favourite tube stop. It’s going to sound weird, but it was a room in a house with a couple. They were young, super cool and had a lot in common with me. I feel like she is the British version of me, and he is a chef at The Narrows, a Gordon Ramsey restaurant that I’ve been dying to try. In the 30 minutes I spent chatting with them, I fell for them pretty quickly, but it was not to be. They also picked someone else. And, by this third strike, the rejection was killing me.

Twelve flats later, I should know better. I should know how to protect my heart. But you don’t find the perfect match without diving in head-on from time to time. My first experience with this process, that first month that I lived in London back in 2009, I found the perfect flat rather quickly, and was welcomed with open arms by Justin and Arthur. I guess I was lucky back then. I never imagined that searching for a flatshare was so difficult, and finding the ideal relationship would be so emotionally wrenching.

Anyways, despite rejection after rejection, I am still open to that idyllic connection. In fact, I have a date this afternoon. It sounds almost too good to be true. Two very well priced rooms are available in a four-bedroom flat off Essex Road. I am going in blindly and, despite recent experience, getting my hopes up yet again.

I think though, like with any worthwhile relationship in the challenging world of dating, you do have to just get back out there. It can be painful, but you don’t find true love, or the perfect flat, without taking the risk.