I Feel Moved

I'm able to type this entry from the comfort of my bed, due to the 'all mod-cons' nature of my new address, which boasts super-fast wireless internet access and an indoor sauna. I'll be wanting my own butler soon.

I deserve a bit of pampering as it's been a crazy couple of days. Every time I move I have this naive faith that the packing and moving process will be straightforward. How much stuff can someone really accumulate in three and a half years? After all, I moved here with just a suitcase. The answer is, two whole van-loads. Yesterday was full of too many boxes and too many stairs.

On Thursday evening I borrowed 8 flat-packed moving boxes from work, tied them up with string, slung them over my back and set off home on the metro. At Wibautstraat I picked up my bike and tried to cycle home with them. The process involved getting several bruises and a lot of swearing, but I finally managed to get me and the boxes on the bike, only to come to a sudden stop a few meters up the road. I realised that the string that I'd used to tie up the boxes had got tightly wrapped round the wheel of the bike and there was no way I was going to be able to free it without a good pair of scissors. I was forced to abandon the poor thing in a state of bondage and head off on foot. Walking a mile with eight large boxes stacked up on my head wasn't much fun at all, but I made it home in the end.

Yesterday after all the moving chaos was over, tired, hungry and emotional, I was back in Amsterdam for a work do. I was running very late, but I decided to rescue my poor omafiets. Crouched in the dark in my evening clothes in the rain, picking away at the spokes of my bike with a pair of scissors, it suddenly occured to be what a glamorous life I lead.

But I'm here now in a comfy bed with my laptop and a cup of tea and I'm putting it all behind me. So Hoofddorp it is then, at least til next April/May time when I get the keys to the appartment I've bought back in good-old Amsterdam.