Me and Leila are currently going full-force on the flat hunting. Over the last couple of days we've been in about a million estate agents cars being driven over Manchester.
Today we saw a few really, really nice ones.
Whilst in one of the flats I complained that it was easier when we'd only seen one nice one, because now we had too many choices. The estate agent chipped in with
"It was better under Communism. There were NO choices then."
Which was a bit legendary, although he did nearly end our lives a few times in the car, and didn't speak to us the rest of the time.
We saw a flat that looked like a space ship. It was brilliant but a bit too far out the way, which we're a bit gutted about.
And there was a really swish posh one, but that's also a bit out-of-the-centre.
And this one, which is only a few minutes walk into town, and is right by the kings arms pub (you can see it out of the window), which is definitely a bonus.
And so now we are angsting over where to live.
I thought this was going to be easy.