It’s when your kind employer arranges for you and your family to visit your new destination to see if you like it.
It gives expats the opportunity to look around, visit schools and view accommodation, cleverly and thoughtfully orchestrated with the assistance of a helpful relocation agent … aye, well, we didn’t get one.
Having secured the elusive school places, next on the agenda was finding a place to call home. We had to move fast, the husband was about to be stuck in Saudi and, of course, the school buses wouldn’t pick up from our serviced apartment. I mean that would just make life too easy! But, I was confident as I had my secret weapon, my ‘Bahrain angel’.
Although she is presently living in the UK we have been the best of expat buddies in our previous posting and this lady had lived in her ‘happy’ place, Bahrain, for years. I was loaded with inside information, secretly written down on a well-read piece of crumpled paper at the bottom of my handbag.
The search was on and we were off to a good start. The estate agent met us at the first compound as planned, naively we were all a little excited … but not for long.
Such fun, nosing around dusty, hot ‘not in a million years am I living here’ villas. Not to mention the polite, fake smiles and sighs to our estate agent who didn’t seem to understand our concerns about living on ‘barbecue corner’ as she pointed out the convenient cold store opposite? I looked at my husband with a raised eyebrow whilst thinking ‘what’s a cold store?’
Twenty-four villas later, grumpy, grubby and exhausted, we made a plan to go it alone the following day. Secret weapon in handbag and friend on WhatsApp … we found a place called home.