Finally it had arrived – Moving Day.
I’d love to say I was up bright and early, ready and raring to go, but in all honesty after an exhausting week at work and not being very well I struggled to get out of bed. I felt guilty as I knew Pedro was already up and packing his van, whereas I was prolonging lying in bed for as long as possible before getting up and dismantling it.
Eventually I hauled myself out of bed, and finished my last minute packing (bathroom toiletries, emergency wine stash, etc). My dad arrived and together we started the torturous task of carrying everything from my first floor flat out to his car.
This takes a lot longer than you think, and after a million (to the nearest million) trips up and down our stairs carrying bits of bed, chests of drawers and little annoying odds and ends like my toaster, we were shattered.
To add to our woes, the gorgeously dry weather we had been enjoying for weeks had decided, today of all days, to disappear. In its place was continuous sad drizzle. This meant that I was wet through within about ten minutes, including my feet on which I had put the not very practical but oh so comfy pumps. On the plus side, it meant that I could attribute the rivulets of sweat pouring down my face from the exertion of lifting such heavy boxes, down to rain. (Soz – disgusting I know).
My dad was taking great delight in showing how much he could pack into his car by fitting things in in a huge moving-house tetris style game. I have no spatial awareness so I just did what I was told…for the most part!
When we got to the house (HOME! I must start calling it home!) to unload for the first time we made quick work of emptying our cars. At a moment when I was particularly damp (from rain, definitely not sweat…) Pedro arrived with his first van load. It was lovely to see him, and we had a slightly damp hug (RAIN! definitely rain!)
During the day my dad and I popped over to my parents’ house for some lunch and a quick cuddle with Freddie (mum and dad’s new puppy – see here). Then we returned with a final car load – again around the same time that Pedro and his dad returned. The dads had a wonderful time exploring the house and putting various things together/showing off their knowledge on plumbing/electrics/moving house in general. Pedro and I left them to it at one point while we put a brew on and made everyone a cuppa. The sight of the three blokes with my Cath Kidston flowery mugs did make me chuckle a lot!
Once they had gone, Pedro and I made a start on clearing things. It may have looked as though we were just moving things into different spots and not actually clearing anything, but I can assure you we definitely made a good start on it all. We were running on empty and soon nipped out the to local corner shop for some booze and ordered an enormous takeaway feast.
It was only when we came to going to bed, absolutely exhausted, that we realised that we had no hot water for a shower. We had a cool bath after which we went straight to bed to save getting into an argument…
Stay tuned for part 3 tomorrow – the morning after. Featuring headlines such as ‘ARGH there’s black hot water spurting out of the radiator!’ and me FINALLY washing my hair.