Finally, the big move has now completed and good god I am utterly shattered.
My girlfriend and I have finally got a place together, just 5 minutes walk up the road from where we were staying before, in a little double room with a shared kitchen and bathroom.
So lovely to have our own place: a 2 big double bedroom flat, with very modern kitchen, big bathroom and very large lounge and dining area. And the storage is wonderful!
Being built in the 1960s, it doesn’t suffer from the claustrophobic modern disease at all. Plenty of everything.
And it is fully furnished too!
The move itself began at 9am on Saturday with the signing of the contract (which I had to pay 100% for because somebody forgot her purse… lol), followed by the picking up of the van.
What happened next way 7 hours of sheer hell, with the moving of what appeared to be dozens of boxes full of heavy lead-lined shoes and breezeblocks. And that was just Clare’s house.
Then that lot was dumped rather unceremoniously at the new place, and then a panicked run around to my old place, which is on the 2nd floor, to pick up my stuff which also appeared to consist of dozens of boxes full of heavy lead-lined shoes and breezeblocks.
And we didn’t manage to finish it all and return the van by 5pm, so had to rent it for Sunday as well. At least it wasn’t quite as mental, as only 1 trip to our old abodes each, and then an expensive trip to Tescos to go buy the necessities.
Tonight, however, everything is put away, the PC back up and connected to teh interwebs courtesy of a dongle for the time being; beds all dressed; lovely home-made dinner waiting for me when I got in around 19:40.