Throwback Thursday (Part 4): A thousand plans in the car, very first house purchased, and fleeing to Brabant.
We're back after a week of rest! In part…
So there we were, at camper site De Negende Zaeligheyt in Brabant. While we desperately tried to relax (read: nervously staring at our phones), the ringtone finally went off in the afternoon. It was Jan, our real estate agent.
I will never forget his first words: “The redeeming answer is here: YES, the offer has been accepted! Congratulations on your farm in Wittelte!”
We looked at each other, flew into each other's arms, and let out a cry. Super happy! Surprised! Euphoric! …And about three minutes later, that seamlessly turned into mild panic. Because *this* was the moment we realized: Shit. We really did buy a farm. We were seriously moving from The Hague to a hamlet with a grand total of 123 inhabitants. Just to give you an idea: when Emy was working at the Kruidvat in The Hague, on a busy Saturday there were more people in front of her checkout than there are inhabitants in all of Wittelte! And then there was that one hectare of land. What on earth were we going to do with it? We could barely keep a plant alive in The Hague.
So, real relaxation in Brabant was nowhere to be found. Our minds were working overtime. Because no matter how brave our dream was, the mortgage lender naturally just wants to see money every month. So I (Patrick) had to quit my secure job at the HTM as fast as possible and apply to a transport company in the North. Emy had to ask for a transfer to a Drenthe Kruidvat branch.
Now, there is one thing you really need to know about our relationship. I am not one for to-do lists. My plan is usually: 'We'll just see .' Emy, on the other hand, is an Olympic champion at making lists. As soon as Jan hung up, our cozy camper turned into a sort of command center.
Lists appeared for the mortgage, lists for informing the children, lists for the move, and lists for making new lists. My head was overflowing. We called De Hypotheker and scheduled an appointment at the new house to see what we needed to purchase there.
I called Jan the real estate agent back briefly, my voice trembling slightly: “Jan… what now?” Jan (who had probably dealt with hyperventilating Westerners on the line before) remained the picture of calm. He was going to arrange the notary, the key handover date, and all the paperwork. That was a huge relief. One less list for Emy!
While I was still recovering from the shock, I saw that Emy was already busy scrolling on her phone again. She had officially finished Funda, so she had opened a new app: Marktplaats.
Normally you look for a second-hand bike or a nice cupboard there. But us? Of course, we needed residents for that empty hectare of sand in Drenthe. “Look, Pat,” I heard from the other side of the camper. “This is a nice brown one! And these chickens are on sale too!” The hunt for our very first alpacas was officially on… among the second-hand furniture and old winter tires on Marktplaats.
Next week in part 6: The job applications, the move, and the very first steps in Drenthe. Did we manage to pack our lives in time?
Thanks for reading along again! Best, Patrick & Emy
