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It happened.
Previously, I wrote that it wasn't completely nailed down, because I was waiting on exchange of contract. Specifically from my buyer (my vendors have been very chill about it, what with them being a construction company trying to get shot of this somewhat quirky infill). Because someone hadn't been clear that his solicitor wasn't prepared to exchange without having the deposit on my place in their account, and said deposit was being assembled from … well, I'm not sure where, but someone had also not been clear on what the daily limit on transfer of funds was. (The last time I did this was carrying a very large banker's draft across town, in the days of physical branches and cheques.)
So "probably on Tuesday" became "by the end of the week" became "definitely Tuesday" (would be Monday, but my solicitor doesn't work Mondays) became "honestly we won't get down to exchange and complete on the same day" eventually exchanging Wednesday afternoon for completion on Thursday, by which time most of the contents of my house were loaded onto the van.
Well, when I say most … .
The packers had arrived on Monday. Well, one had, and had worked half a day. Then two of them worked Tuesday, and were still not finished. The one who had been on Monday returned on Wednesday, muttering that he'd said he needed more help, together with a driver and a loader. What was supposed to have happened is that by the end of Wednesday everything would be on the van except my bed and other overnight essentials, and the driver and one other driver/loader (as it turned out, not the one who'd been on Wednesday) would do half an hour of load, and we'd be on our way mid-morning and arrive late afternoon and they'd offload the bed and do everything else on Friday. What actually happened was that the move team turned up on Thursday morning to find that there were essentially four rooms which were half-packed at best, including the kitchen.
They spent four hours hastily packing. Probably doing as much as the people who'd been paid to do the packing (as the senior of the two repeatedly complained that he wasn't supposed to be doing this side of the business any more) had done in two days. And because I was working alongside them, I didn't have time to do the final clean and car loading I'd been hoping to do while they were doing the final load until after they'd gone.
I didn't leave and lock up for the last time until after three. After completion.
I was exhausted, but had no choice but to hit the road.
The toilets at the half-way point where I was hoping to take a quick break were closed for the night by the time I got there. I engaged trans bladder and pushed on, hoping the cat wouldn't make too much of a mess (I'd been hoping she'd get a litter tray break too).
I have never been so grateful for my phone hooking into hands-free in my car. Rearranged key collection (again, they were very chill about that, and being very local they wound up just sending one of the directors round, and he let my parents in while they waited for me). Agreed with removals people that they should just lay up for the night where they could, because we'd both been caught in traffic around Birmingham and they weren't expecting to get there much before nine.
I got there (here) some time approaching eight, tired to the point of going non-verbal. Managed to communicate enough with parents to tell them to go and get me fish and chips and stop trying to interact with me in any other way until tomorrow. And somehow struggled to fall asleep on the pile of blankets and yoga mats my mum had left for me.
Unloading went smoothly, in comparison, despite a bit of miscommunication about when I could get access to the self-storage unit. I've got a lot of boxes, and they weren't all going to fit in the house.
And then the unboxing started. And we began finding out why the packers took so long to do so little. The moving team just … well, didn't throw things into boxes, but the driver was very confident about how safely he could drive, and basically glasses were stacked without much paper wrapping and sure enough they all arrived intact (bear in mind that he did most of the kitchen). On the other hand, the most extreme I've found from the packing team has been a single cork coaster, individually wrapped in two sheets of paper (these are newsprint sized sheets).
So, if you're moving in South Wales, big recommendation for Carters for removals, but only if you're doing your own packing.
Previously, I wrote that it wasn't completely nailed down, because I was waiting on exchange of contract. Specifically from my buyer (my vendors have been very chill about it, what with them being a construction company trying to get shot of this somewhat quirky infill). Because someone hadn't been clear that his solicitor wasn't prepared to exchange without having the deposit on my place in their account, and said deposit was being assembled from … well, I'm not sure where, but someone had also not been clear on what the daily limit on transfer of funds was. (The last time I did this was carrying a very large banker's draft across town, in the days of physical branches and cheques.)
So "probably on Tuesday" became "by the end of the week" became "definitely Tuesday" (would be Monday, but my solicitor doesn't work Mondays) became "honestly we won't get down to exchange and complete on the same day" eventually exchanging Wednesday afternoon for completion on Thursday, by which time most of the contents of my house were loaded onto the van.
Well, when I say most … .
The packers had arrived on Monday. Well, one had, and had worked half a day. Then two of them worked Tuesday, and were still not finished. The one who had been on Monday returned on Wednesday, muttering that he'd said he needed more help, together with a driver and a loader. What was supposed to have happened is that by the end of Wednesday everything would be on the van except my bed and other overnight essentials, and the driver and one other driver/loader (as it turned out, not the one who'd been on Wednesday) would do half an hour of load, and we'd be on our way mid-morning and arrive late afternoon and they'd offload the bed and do everything else on Friday. What actually happened was that the move team turned up on Thursday morning to find that there were essentially four rooms which were half-packed at best, including the kitchen.
They spent four hours hastily packing. Probably doing as much as the people who'd been paid to do the packing (as the senior of the two repeatedly complained that he wasn't supposed to be doing this side of the business any more) had done in two days. And because I was working alongside them, I didn't have time to do the final clean and car loading I'd been hoping to do while they were doing the final load until after they'd gone.
I didn't leave and lock up for the last time until after three. After completion.
I was exhausted, but had no choice but to hit the road.
The toilets at the half-way point where I was hoping to take a quick break were closed for the night by the time I got there. I engaged trans bladder and pushed on, hoping the cat wouldn't make too much of a mess (I'd been hoping she'd get a litter tray break too).
I have never been so grateful for my phone hooking into hands-free in my car. Rearranged key collection (again, they were very chill about that, and being very local they wound up just sending one of the directors round, and he let my parents in while they waited for me). Agreed with removals people that they should just lay up for the night where they could, because we'd both been caught in traffic around Birmingham and they weren't expecting to get there much before nine.
I got there (here) some time approaching eight, tired to the point of going non-verbal. Managed to communicate enough with parents to tell them to go and get me fish and chips and stop trying to interact with me in any other way until tomorrow. And somehow struggled to fall asleep on the pile of blankets and yoga mats my mum had left for me.
Unloading went smoothly, in comparison, despite a bit of miscommunication about when I could get access to the self-storage unit. I've got a lot of boxes, and they weren't all going to fit in the house.
And then the unboxing started. And we began finding out why the packers took so long to do so little. The moving team just … well, didn't throw things into boxes, but the driver was very confident about how safely he could drive, and basically glasses were stacked without much paper wrapping and sure enough they all arrived intact (bear in mind that he did most of the kitchen). On the other hand, the most extreme I've found from the packing team has been a single cork coaster, individually wrapped in two sheets of paper (these are newsprint sized sheets).
So, if you're moving in South Wales, big recommendation for Carters for removals, but only if you're doing your own packing.
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