Mr Müller and the Mould

“Sie müssen gut lüften. Vergessen Sie das bitte nicht. Hier ist ein Lüftungsleitfaden (You must ventilate well. Please do not forget. Here is a Ventilation Instruction Manual”), were among Mr Müller’s first words to us upon moving into one of his new-build flats in a building owned by him in the most expensive area in Heidelberg; Neuenheim.

In fact, before going on with the story, perhaps we should get to know Mr Müller a bit better. Mr Müller is short man, his obviously blonde hair at one stage is now grey, he sports a neat moustache, has unfriendly piercing blue eyes, never smiles, and very rosy cheeks. He is a drunk; an uneducated drunk; a very rich, uneducated drunk. I’ll leave it to you to speculate on how he made his money. Suffice to say he lives in the huge penthouse flat that covers the whole area of the building we moved into (that he owns entirely) with his wife. She is still very blonde, fake-tanned, also a drunk (clearly she has to be to put up with him) and is slightly more friendly. Together they own three parking spots in the garage modestly filled with a Mercedes SL, a Mercedes ML and, wait for it, the piece de resistance, a Bentley Cabrio. Somewhat paradoxically then, you will find him on a daily basis, sweeping the pavement outside the building, cleaning the garage or taking out the rubbish himself in his Birkenstocks.

You haven’t had much contact with him, apart from the standard “Guten Tag.”  That is, until you return from your three week holiday and discover mould growing on the walls in your bedroom. You phone Mr Müller to inform him. He shouts at you on the phone, but agrees to come down from the castle, take a look, and clean off the mould. “Ihr habt nicht richtig gelüftet” (you have not aired properly), he says, handing us more photocopied sheets on the airing process including picture diagrams. You must air at least 3 times a day for 10 minutes a time. You’ve been on holiday for 3 weeks? Well then, you need to get someone to come over during that time to air for you.

Now, I don’t like a stuffy flat any more than the next person. I have asthma and like to be able to breathe. I aired the flat. The problem is new-builds in Germany are usually so well-built, that nothing comes in or out. Great in the winter and great for your heating bills, but no so great for mould on walls, for example.

The next contact we had with Mr Müller, who as a result of the mould, basically told us to move out, was when we were doing the handover. Picture both Mr and Mrs Müller drunk as skunks on their hands and knees to inspect the wooden flooring, shouting at us as Mr Müller finds a 15.7cm scratch in his prize flooring. “Abschleifen!”(Polish!) he shouted. You will not get your deposit back until ze floor has been professionally polished. A few weeks later we receive a bill through the post for the completed job. We know for a fact that the work was never done; the bill was a fake. Perhaps this is an indication of how Mr Müller made his money.