blog

Everything Goes South

The third in the series about the pursuit of my dreams. Check out the first and second ones here:

https://wordsworthywriting.wordpress.com/2023/08/28/how-it-began-my-journey-to-make-my-dreams-a-reality

Keep in mind that there is a nine-hour time difference between Oregon and France. They are ahead so their work day finished as mine began. But I’m an early riser and would often wake at 03:00, unable to return to sleep, and check my email in case there was something from the realtor or broker needing some documents or information. Rarely was there anything. In fact, during the whole process, I found myself driving the boat, following up, asking for updates, asking what the next steps were and what would they need from me. Any request from them was responded to within minutes of my receiving the email. I was never the delay. But the broker never sent me an email before 8:00 thus it was the loss of an entire day every time she had a request. If the request was on a Friday it would be three days lost as she didn’t work on Saturdays and banks are closed on Mondays. That should have been my first clue to her incompetency.

While there was very little communication with my broker, I continued to go forward. I sold most of my stuff and the rest I put in a 5×10 storage unit. My lease expired so I moved in with my partner. I obtained a TEFL certificate so I could generate a secondary income as the B&B would not sustain me financially year-round. I continued to sell and donate items and downsize as much as possible. This was real and I had no reason to believe otherwise. 

To Alex’s (my realtor) credit, he would usually WhatsApp me if he needed something and, in the end, he would be my strongest ally. But Julia, ugh! Mid-July came and my realtor returned from vacation and inquired about the loan. I reported my latest response from her…she was talking to the bank later that day. He had also made calls to her and gotten the same non-answers. July 18th he called me and said that once I get bank papers I’m required to sit on them for 11 days; the closing date of July 29th would now be impossible. “She should know this,” he said. I sent a stern email to Julia. She promised me that everything would be ready in time. On July 20th an email was sent to Julia that the Notaire had canceled the closing date. “Please let us know when the loan would be ready so we can reschedule and remember, Ms. Kowalski and her dog would be in France, homeless, until this happens.” Suddenly, I got multiple emails from Julia requesting more documents. They were things she should have asked for much earlier, like a business plan, retirement documents (IRAs), etc. For someone who does this for a living, I can only assume she didn’t ask for these things sooner because she wasn’t actually doing her job. I would imagine she had a checklist of documents that every bank required from foreigners before they’d even consider giving them a loan. Fortunately, I was one step ahead of her and already had a business plan ready. Otherwise, it would have taken at least a week for me to throw one together, further delaying things. I emailed her everything. Of course, it was the end of her work day on Thursday, so she may or may not get to it before next week. 

On Friday I took my dog to the vet to get her health certificate. It has to be obtained no more than 10 days before travel. But the vet didn’t look at her file when I made the appointment or else they would have seen that, while she was up to date on her rabies shot, according to the EU laws, because her second rabies shot in Oct 2021 (a three-year vaccination) was more than one year past the her first rabies shot in September 2020, it was null and void and she would have to have another shot and wait 21 days. And the certificate isn’t just approved by the vet but has to go, via mail, to the state vet in Washington for final signature. She would not be able to travel with me. My heart sank. I didn’t know what to do. I knew what my bf would say. I’d already asked him to keep her because she loved him way more than she loved me and I had serious concerns about putting her on such a long flight in the heat of summer. He was soooo good to her, too, but he’d said, “No!” He was not in a position to have a dog. There was no one else that could take her because she didn’t play well with other four-legged creatures. I didn’t have a choice, I was going to have to take her to the humane society. In the end, he agreed to keep her until he could come out in October/November. 

On Monday morning, I received auto-response emails to all the ones I sent Julia on Thursday, saying that she was out on vacation through August 3. My flight to France was leaving on Wednesday, July 26th. To say I was livid was an understatement. I messaged my realtor. I wanted to fire Julia with MEA Finances and deal with the bank directly. He said no, banks will not deal with me directly.  So here it was, days before I was to leave for France and I had no place to go when I arrived, my dog was being left behind, the last of my belongings were stuck in storage in the US because I didn’t have a long term visa or an address, and I couldn’t do anything—get a car, open bank account, etc, without an address. And I can’t get an address until I get a loan. Stepping stones. Glitches. Mole hills. Part of the experience, I told myself. Stay positive. Focus on the end and just do what I can. I breathed deeply and trusted in the Universe. 

I decided to go anyway. I believed I’d be more successful there than trying to do anything from six thousand miles away. I was confident I’d be approved. I wasn’t asking for a lot of money, I had a substantial sum in my bank account, and a business plan showing me making a profit, albeit a small one, the first year. I reached out to a couple friends in France to see if I could visit for a few days until I figured out where to stay while I’m waiting for the loan. Bien sur, they said. Of course. So, on July 26th I entered PDX with my backpack, a large duffle bag with a pillow strapped to the outside, my daypack, two hats on my head, and my bike in a very large box. Visualize it. Haha! Act/speak as if it’s already done. Isn’t that what they say?  Of course, that’s never worked for me before but maybe this time?

1 thought on “Everything Goes South”

Leave a comment