The Happy House (Allons-y)

I moved out of Nguyen Huy Tu on Sunday morning.

As with so many other activities recently it served as a reminder of just how much my life has changed in six months.

When I found the place in September last year I was delighted with it. Clean, modern, close to town without being in an especially expatty area.

Then when I met Loan she liked it too.  We became spoilt by the “service” aspect of the deal. My socks were not just washed but folded into perfect squares and laid out in a pleasingly feng shui manner in my cupboard.

A pathetic and guilty pleasure but a pleasure none the less.

The old guy security guard downstairs used to come bounding out beaming when you arrived.   He would absolutely insist on putting your bike away for you. It was the smile and welcome that was valued more than the scooter parking.

We were very happy there.  It’s fair to say that, sad events aside, I have never been so happy.

As I said, moving house is not the first moment that triggered thoughts of that vast life change post Cameroon.

Loan and I had only recently finished watching the David Tennant era Dr Who together.

Amongst the emotion of the big finish (that left Loan a little more tearful than she cares to admit) it occurred to me that, having earlier dismissed it as being just for kids, I bought my first Dr Who DVD on Commercial Avenue, Bamenda, Cameroon out of  sheer bored desperation.

Against the odds I liked it.  On my own, under my mosquito net, I watched all the episodes I could get my hands on – all minimised to beer mat size as the quality was so poor.

And yes, now, who’d have thought…

So I am sure I am not the first person to move house and worry that it will break a happy spell. I grew up in one home and, when I’d left and my parents downsized, they named their second house after the street the first was on.

They told me it was because they had been happy there. In their own pragmatic western way they were trying to take a little bit of luck with them.

Maybe it’s just living in Vietnam but I find myself considering luck more than ever.  So far it appears to have followed us.

As you can see from the picture it’s a dramatic change from an apartment. That’s despite paying pretty much the same amount for a 400% increase in the number of rooms.

The ground floor houses a kitchen and living area.  The next is a spare bedroom and office (where I now type this) and the third is a bedroom too.

Both bedrooms come with en suites – in fact there are bathrooms on every floor.  Hey, if you get too sweaty cooking dinner you can have a shower.

The house also has three urinals.  Wonderfully their brand name is “Monaco”.  Monte Carlo’s least-known export perhaps.

And, as you can see from the picture below, I’m living in the shadow of the Sheraton.  It’s an area known, by expats at least,  as Nghi Tam Village.

I never thought I’d live in Westlake. A white face doesn’t stop traffic here.  Actually it’s the opposite – a white face is enough to ensure you don’t get stopped when taking a sneaky short cut through Sheraton grounds.

But our first night here coincided with Le Pub Xuan Dieu opening and it was lovely to be able to walk to and from the bar. I can also walk around the lake if I want some fresh(ish) air and a bit of exercise.

Last night I slept eight hours uninterrupted and when I awoke I could hear only birds singing.  Thankfully, the alley we live down is too narrow for those bullying, beeping cars.

Currently I am house husbanding as I await news on that job. If I get it then I will continue to work from home.  Something I now find particularly appealing. I am enjoying cooking again.

Meanwhile wedding preparations are starting.  There is a mountain of paperwork as you might expect.

The title of this post was inspired by this place.  It was our first considered venue for the evening do before we were told that the music had to be kept to a minimum because of the Army base nearby.

Currently this place is favourite and fabulously they allow music till 2am.

I’m thinking ska.

Allons-y.