'We offer 2,000,000 NOK,' we say. 'No, I never sell it,' she replies immediately. '2,200,000*,' we raise our bid. It remains silent for a moment on the other end of the line. She has to think about it. The high interest rate makes it difficult for her financially and stresses her out. In Norway, fixing interest is not so common and almost all interest is flexible. In two weeks, the interested couple will come to see. We can only hope they are not interested, because that is the only way our offer has a chance. It's a small chance, but it feels like we've tried everything now. Making a real offer was the last thing we could do. If it comes to nothing, we have nothing more to blame ourselves for. Still, we feel we really have to forget about this place now. It hurts, but the situation can always change in the future.
*If this is our dream house, an offer of 220,000 euros may sound low. A year ago she bought the house for 175,000 euros. And there is still a lot of work to improve the house.
So starting in September we will most likely have to look for a new place. We want to have our own place so badly and now suddenly the pressure is increased. We still have 3 weeks left. On the Norwegian housing website we are also looking at rental houses and come across an unusual advertisement. A man in Lillehammer rents out the first floor of his house for 300 euros per month. In exchange for the low price, he wants tenants to cook for him a few times a week. He suffered a brain attack many years ago and in May his wife died. She did everything for him and now he is on his own. He is looking for companionship and help around the house. To bridge a month or two, it might be a solution so we decide to visit the man.
Standing in the doorway is an old man. His right hand sticks between the buttons of his shirt near his stomach. After his stroke, that arm is paralyzed. He leans on a cane and stands slightly hunched over, just as older people always slump a bit. We are allowed in and immediately go to the basement floor. It is spacious, but dark and unsociable. Zoe doesn't like it at all, even for a short time. We haven't seen everything yet when Tor suddenly says, "You're actually looking for a cabin near Lillehammer anyway.
‘Yes,’ we say a little surprised.
'I have a cabin I would like to sell. It's barely six kilometers from here.'
Our senses are all on. What is he saying now? Six kilometers from here, that's biking distance from Lillehammer. Could it be?
'I'll show you a picture in a minute,' says Tor Hendrik, who must surely sense our enthusiasm.
On the kitchen table, a book of photographs is already laid out. Tor leafs through the book, past many family photos that still show his wife and where he is still in good health. The loss of his wife still hurts him very much.
'This is the cabin,' he says, pointing to the picture of a cozy wooden cabin surrounded by many trees. 'There's also some grounds belonging to it, but that's full of trees.'
Ideal we both say in our heads. It seems almost too good to be true. A cabin barely 8 kilometers from Lillehammer, with electricity and water, in the forest, and within our budget. Inside, we are burning with curiosity and prefer to go look right now.
'If you were with the car, we could go look,' Tor says.
We sit on the couch for a while longer with Tor, who is quite a sociable grandfather. Sometimes a little hard to understand, but he likes to talk and is still very spiritual. We agree to come back on Sunday and look at the cabin together.
We can't wait!