Before our arrival to Plymouth, everything was fine, Becky had been fantastic with me, very cooperative and polite. But the nightmare started upon arrival in Plymouth. The address of the house wasn’t correct, Becky didn’t know the correct street number of the house, so first she sent me to number 9, then she had to call someone to check the number of the street because she didn’t know it by heart and she told me it was number 8, not exactly one close to the another, not even the name of the street corresponds to what shown on the website, it’s not North East Road, but Winston Avenue. They are close but the address isn’t correct. Probably the house belongs to an estate agency and is not Becky’s. I had to call her 8 times overall to have the correct address of the house and get the key. She never showed up, not during our stay. I went up and down a hill with all the suitcases and a child of 4 years old several times and had to wait outside some time to get in the house.
The house was very noisy, the lady living downstairs put the hi-fi very loud, especially during the weekend. When not putting music very loud, she sang herself, even at 11 p.m. at night or shouted. It is like a terraced house which has been divided in three small apartments. So you can hear all the sounds, there’s no isolation. The entrance door to the flat is very “thin” and you cannot lock it so anyone can easily enter the house pushing the door down. The police came 3 times in 21 days, looking for two different people living just downstairs, it had never happened to me in the past. I was scared because I was living alone with my child. Lots of quarrels and shouting from downstairs.
I had asked for some sheets and towels, because I had no room in the suitcases and considered that this was part of the renting as in many other houses. She only gave us the ones on the bed, not any spare ones. Quite uncomfortable, I had to wait to wash them and put them in the dryer and put them back in the bed.
The house only had a TV channel, BBC 1. We basically had no TV for 3 weeks, not nice with a 4 years old child who was looking for some cartoons.
The coffee machine was old and all rusted and it wasn’t possible to use it. I couldn’t have a coffee for 3 weeks. The kitchen wasn’t well-equipped at all and it was dirty. Only few plates and some cutlery are in the house, nothing more.
There was only a small carpet in the kitchen for the sink. The bathroom had no carpet so we had to move it from the kitchen to the bathroom every day and vice-versa.