How To Return From Exile!

Sjoe. So much to do - and only 5 weeks of time left to do it in! Mind you, not that I'm complaining! The sooner we can get on that plane, the better. All that stands between me and Heathrow, Terminal 5, is an endless list of loose-ends to tie up. (Needless to say, this miles-long list is quite welcome in its sense of signalling 'the final chapter' after I made a rather radical decision to begin packing up six whole months ago - and the house has been this kind of topsy-turvy, semi-packed chaos ever since: something I do not recommend at all to those of you planning your own Groot Trek.)

1. The car. Our sweet little blue Fiat Panda needed an MOT (plus new tyre!) and a year's worth of tax, and don't even talk to me about the insurance: and all just a month before our EDA. Eish... what a monumental waste of 250 Big Ones.

2. Phoning all the utilities etc. to explain we're leaving the UK (forever! YAHOO!): i.e. water, electricity/gas, council tax, Virgin (broadband, tv), BT (phone)

3. At least we don't have an ounce of debt - so the banking side of things is easy-peasy. But Craig has had to organise that his post-dated salaries go into his brother's UK account who can then transfer it to us in SA.

4. Furniture: I have four incredibly precious pieces of furniture that I wish with ALL my heart I could send home, but the shipping costs (even for half a container) was just too expensive, so I am going to have to find loving homes for these beautiful things. (I've run out of time to eBay them - but I reckon I could've gotten some nice cash for 'em if I'd been a bit more on the ball!) On the plus side, Craig discovered a company that can ship four boxes home for us (door-to-door) for only 150 GBP (and I better order them tomorrow! *where are those Post-it notes when you them?!*) In these four boxes will go Craig's rather gargantuan collection of Stephen King books: an altar to his impassioned devotion to this writer of some really brilliant stories, and... some totally crap ones! That leaves me with three boxes into which will go my little antique cups/saucers, lovingly folded scraps of rich, raw silk, crochet hooks, an eclectic family of books, my journals, some of Layla's tiny newborn clothes I can hardly remember her being able to fit into...

5. Our landlord, a feisty fishing fanatic (owns two fishing/hunting shops and is currently adventuring in Cuba, hunting down bone-fish!) bought the house we live in the year Craig and I were born! And - he also had a pet rabbit, and - his bunny's favourite spot was also the cool stone tiles around the fireplace! Anyway, he is an utter darling - and because we haven't had any estate agents involved (as well as no officially documented lease!) we haven't had to worry about sorting all of that out.

6. Um... I can't really remember everything off the top of my head - but I feel pretty much on top of it all. A nice feeling, really. Oh yes! We'll be renting a gorgeous old Settlers Cottage with lustrously warm yellow-wood floors and an exciting little garden for Layla to explore - and then we've also found a perfect car: air-con (for Layla - but I'm hell of a grateful too!), CD player (WOOHOO!) and low mileage. I'll tell you what: this whole move has been so, so exciting - and such a pleasure to organise: but really, it's only thanks to the people we've gone out of their way to help us! Adele Barnard must be the world's most thoughtful and kind (and hard-working) estate agent; Stacey (my future boss and first new friend in G-town) who runs Kip McGrath in Grahamstown, and Trygve Roberts from Autolink!

(Someone once gave me a card in which they scrawled, "travel light, and travel far." And as long as I have Layla, I am home.