Clearly from reading the posts about how incredible the small town of Jardin, Colombia is, it will be
no surprise that we decided we needed to find a rental and make it our home for a full month. Now this seemed like an easy thing to do, however was anything but. The things we wanted, a house with a yard and great view, at least 2 bedrooms (maybe more for visiting guests), close to town and of course in our budget.While it looked attainable on web listings, this needed to be scaled back...considerably. We found the ideal spot, but it turned out the owner listed was no longer the owner and finding the current one was impossible, obviously not the American way of doing business. The other options we searched out online were either ridiculously expensive or ridiculously bad. Feeling like we were hitting a dead end on our own, we enlisted the help of a local professional.
Meeting the real estate lady one evening, she lead us to a close by apartment. The building was modern and echoed in the large hallway, it seemed promising even in a somewhat cold atmosphere. Then we saw the inside. A large room with a sleek, nice kitchen off to the right greeted us and two bedrooms were visible from the doorway...and nothing else. No windows AT ALL and no furniture (other than 2 plastic chairs). Oddly enough, the bedrooms had so many beds crammed in them, that it was almost impossible to walk in. I guess we had forgotten to request furniture? Oh no, she pointed out, "there are these plastic chairs for your comfort". Uhhhhh...this is so not going to work.
I should take a moment to say that even though we loved our hotel, the rooms were all in the center of the building meaning no windows to the outside and the shutter like 'windows' all opened into the center of the common space with the result of feeling like you were in a box when they were closed. Also, because the colonial style building of the area had zero insulation, and I am not being dramatic, ZERO insulation, the noise from the grand Church on the plaza, to which the hotel sat adjacent to, was insane. The Church seemed to ring the bells at all hours of the night and for no apparent reason. The ringing of these Church bells seemed to have no rhythm or song that it needed to adhere to resulting in a clanging of different bells at all different times sending a jarring pain into your muscles as it echoed off every wall and inside your brain, it was down right painful. This all played into my need for a window to the OUTSIDE and a concern about noise...there was literally no other place that could compete with the noise of those bells, but street noise was a consideration.
We were told that there were precious few places available to rent in this adorable town so being picky wasn't an option. She assured us that if we could stay a few more days at the hotel, another apartment in that same building would be available and this one, oh yes, this one had furniture AND windows. My mind immediately pictured a cheap, plastic patio set with the "more" being that the chairs were accompanied with a matching table, but hey at least it would have a table! The trick with this place was it was currently occupied so there was no option to see it, it would be a roll of the dice. One last thing, this apartment was street side so there would be some noise, being a block from the Church should dull the ringing though. My husband tried to explain that his picky-ass wife really wanted a view, windows and furniture. She made some calls and said there was a house that was perfect that she could show us, but it didn't have wifi. Now this was a deal breaker because I needed to work on my laptop and we are a internet loving, movie watching family.
We tossed over the options, disappointment starting to settle in. Maybe we needed to move on to another town? The sting of this thought provided us with the realization that maybe we could go with a less 'perfect' spot simply so we could stay in Jardin. I quickly said "OK, if I can have a window, even just one to the outside and something to sit on...we could even buy it ourselves, I can do it", my son wouldn't budge on the need for 2 rooms (and frankly my husband and I felt that was a necessity as well) and we all agreed wifi had to be available. When we met with the real estate agent again the next day, we were prepared to compromise and asked if there was some way to help the owner of this 'perfect' house put wifi in, she delightfully said yes and we skipped off to see our new place!
Skipping became walking which became hesitant plodding as street after street took us out of the charming town center and into the funky part of town. It isn't that I would say it was unsafe, but I would not be walking alone at night and there would be a complete stop to my son's independence that he was growing to love. We finally arrived at the concrete square that was called a 'house' and went in. Clearly a grandma's home, this place definitely had furniture, it was loaded with furniture! Furniture and Christmas decorations, and Catholic statues, art and crosses were all crammed into every inch of this place. The walls were packed with family photos which oddly made me feel like an intruder and the 4 bedrooms were complete with huge crucifixes that dwarfed the beds they hung over, leaning imposingly away from the wall and into each room. I started to have visions of "The Exorcist" movie. In the center of the home, was a large square open space that was unroofed. Yes, this home was completely open to the elements. Now had we been in Cartagena where it was hot, maybe, but in the high mountains where it rains every day and you need a jacket at night, uhhhh maybe not. The promised windows opened to the sad street and that amazing view was seen only if you wanted to become a part of the sad street seen and point your plastic chairs down the hill to the vista at the end of the road. My husband, Jesse, beamed "what do you think? Yes, don't you think? It's definitely a yes?" hmmmm... I'd say definitely a no. I could see the frustration in Jess' face as he asked why I didn't like it. I felt a knot build in my stomach and I tried not to be emotional. There was no way I was going to walk through the ghetto to get to grandma's exorcist home only to be rained on...while inside. I reasoned that if there was no view at this house and no view at the mystery apartment we had yet to see, then at least the apartment was extremely close to the town square and we could spend most of our time at a charming cafe. What was the point in staying in Jardin an entire month if we hated where we lived?
It was time to involve our kiddo. His sensory issues being at the center of our concerns, he needed to weigh in and let us know where he would be most comfortable and I assured him that we would make any spot work. I've become a pro at stuffing my feelings as much as possible in order to buoy my son in uncomfortable situations. After a long heart to heart, all three of us agreed to roll the dice and rent the mystery apartment.
Move in day we were all on pins and needles. I had started searching out cheap furniture shops in the days leading up to moving in and we all started talking up how sitting at cafes 100% of the time would be great. We walked our heavy bags from the hotel, across the central plaza park, down a short street and around a corner to our new home. The over sized door swung open and like contestants on a game show, we held our breath in anticipation of what we'd 'won'.
We entered a large modern room with a open kitchen to the left, a stainless topped island with charming chairs in the center and a black leather sofa to the right. IT HAD FURNITURE!!!! Relief swept over me. The two bedrooms faced the street, a charming colorful, safe street, with large wood framed windows. Yes, plural 'windows', two windows in each room! It also had two large bathrooms, a washer, closets and our own private patio which was really where you hang your clean laundry to dry, but allowed for windows (I know, MORE windows!!!) in the kitchen and bathroom to fill the rest of the apartment with light. It was Shangri La.
Naturally, to celebrate, we opened a box of Chilean wine and turned on Netflix. Ahhhhhh yes, we were home.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
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