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After coming to UK and sorting all through immigration stuff, I thought I did it man, but wait a min, it has just started
We went straight to travel lodge; most affordable we could find with the hope of getting a home in a few days. We were all excited me and children flying took a photo outside our Quarantine hotel1 (yes it was that covid times when we decided to land, couldn’t find another good time), thought it’s freedom now and life will be all pleasant
We had booked some viewing while in quarantine, some of the conversations with renting agencies didn’t go very well though because of our accent especially mine
Anyway, we started looking for houses and got few shocks
First shock: The size of the house. How will I fit in it and stretch?
2nd shock: Renting cost what on earth. It looked to me either I can eat or live. I preferred to live though, might be beneficial for health eating less
3rd shock: all the houses were double stories bedrooms on 1st floor. My legs rejected the houses and demanded for Bungalow2. Went to see Bungalow even less of a space. back to house. massaged my legs to keep them calm
4th Shock: you can’t have a house as you don’t have previous reference (but I have never lived in UK, we can’t help, was the answer by agencies). you can’t have house as you don’t have bank account. Went straight to bank to open an account you can’t have a count till you don’t have address seriously
5th shock: I can’t start my Job because I need bank account and address before starting job
So long story short we lived in travel lodge with children for 3 weeks, Eaten junk ,pizza and burgers ( though children were very happy it was a nice adventure for them ) , travelled a lot to view houses on taxis , tram and buses .There were some times when we spent lot of money on taxi to go view a house and was 5 min late . agent was already gone as its was late. Very frustrated situation for us.
We were so worried in those times we though will we have to go back home just because we are not able to rent house and open a bank account. Because money was also ending
Someone finally agreed to lend us the house after it was listed for a long time. The parking is on another road, far from the house, and using the front door is difficult as it faces the main road. Parcel drivers were not very happy with us as well.
I vividly remember getting the keys to my first house. Sitting in the agency office, I kept thinking they might say there had been a mistake and couldn’t rent it to me. Receiving the keys brought us more relief than owning a house.
We went straight to house from agency office .and just lied on carpet feeling grateful while children were fighting about their rooms.
Booked a taxi to bring our luggage. We didn’t have anything apart from cloths and few household items. Money was spent on lodging, taxis, and dining out.
We left our luggage at home (because who needs clothes, right?) and headed to the British Heart Foundation, as suggested by a friend. We were on a mission to find a bed, mattress, and other essentials. It was like a treasure hunt, but instead of gold, we were searching for comfy sleep! 😄
BHF said they will be delivering our things in 3 days so next 3 days we slept on our Duvets happily as at least we have our house
Chat gpt
“Welcome to the UK! (Now Good Luck Surviving)”
After jumping through every immigration hoop and finally landing in the UK, I had a glorious moment of relief. “Phew! We made it!” I thought, giving myself a mental high-five. But as the Brits say… “hold your horses.” Because my friend, that was just the trailer. The movie was yet to begin.
Quarantine Chronicles
We marched (well, flew) into the UK during the legendary COVID era — because clearly, we enjoy challenges. Straight from the airport, we checked into the most budget-friendly Travelodge we could find. Let’s just say… it had walls, a roof, and questionable carpets. But hey, a win is a win.
The kids were buzzing with excitement — new country, quarantine hotel, and absolutely no school. We even posed outside the hotel for a “freedom photo,” thinking life was about to be a breeze now. Cue the dramatic music.
House-Hunting Horror Show
We started viewing houses online while still in quarantine — optimistic, bright-eyed, completely unaware of the trauma ahead. I called a few letting agents and… let’s just say my accent did not pass the vibe check. One even asked if I was calling from abroad. I resisted the urge to say, “No, sir, I’m calling from your time zone.”
Then came the shocks. Not culture shocks — those I was ready for. These were UK rental property shocks. Buckle up.
🏠 Shock #1: Shoebox-sized Homes
The first house we saw had a “cosy” label in the ad. In reality? I’ve seen wardrobes bigger than the living room. I stood there wondering: “Where do I stretch? Or breathe?”
💸 Shock #2: Rent or Food — Pick One
The price? Astronomical. I realised very quickly that I’d have to pick between paying rent or feeding the family. I chose rent. Weight loss is healthy anyway, right?
🏃♀️ Shock #3: Stairs. So Many Stairs.
Every house had stairs — steep, narrow, never-ending stairs. Bedrooms always upstairs. My knees wrote a resignation letter. So we decided to try bungalows instead. We found one! But it was the size of a microwave. So we made peace with stairs and gave our knees a pep talk.
📟 Shock #4: You Can’t Rent Without an Address, and Can’t Get an Address Without Renting
This is where the UK truly flexes its paradox muscles.
- “Do you have a reference from a UK landlord?”
– “No, because I just arrived.”
– “Sorry, can’t help you.” - “You need a bank account.”
– “Okay, let’s open one.”
– “Sorry, you need a UK address to open a bank account.” - “Can I start my job now?”
– “Not without a bank account and address.”
– “Okay but I need the job to afford the house and… oh never mind.”
At this point, I felt like a character in a video game, stuck in a logic puzzle created by a very cruel developer.
The Travelodge Era: A Three-Week Saga
We ended up living in the Travelodge for three whole weeks. Just me, the kids, pizza boxes, and a whole lot of frustration. The kids thought it was a vacation. I, however, aged 10 years and learned the fine art of budgeting… and crying into hotel pillows.
We viewed houses across the city, travelling on buses, trams, and more taxis than I can count. Once, we paid nearly £30 for a taxi to view a property — arrived five minutes late and found the agent had already left. My soul almost left too.
A Glimmer of Hope
Finally, someone agreed to rent us a house. It had been sitting on the market for a while — probably because the front door opened straight onto the main road and the parking was two postcodes away. Parcel drivers still hate us. But it was a house, our house.
When I got the keys, I sat in the letting agency office nervously, convinced they were going to say, “Oops, we made a mistake, sorry.” But they didn’t. And when those keys dropped into my hand, I felt like I’d just won the lottery.
We reached the house, flung ourselves onto the carpet, and just lay there, exhausted and grateful. The kids immediately started fighting over rooms — because of course they did.
Operation: Furniture Hunt
We had nothing but a few bags and hope. A friend told us about the British Heart Foundation charity shop, and suddenly it was like we were on Bargain Hunt meets Survivor. Beds, mattresses, pots, pans — all second-hand, all treasures.
They told us they’d deliver the essentials in three days. So for three nights, we slept on duvets on the floor like happy campers — but with heating and no bugs.
And That’s How It All Began
We didn’t land in the UK with much, but we built a home out of laughter, love, stress, and takeout burgers. It wasn’t easy — in fact, it was downright ridiculous at times. But hey, it makes for a good story, doesn’t it?
