Moving out

The exit from Roquetaillade was much less hard work than it might have been, because the removers took most of the furniture and dealt with the large and difficult items. We had been packing frantically up to the very last minute (and I really hate packing!) and the removers arrived as promised at 7.30 in the morning on the appointed day.

The lorry was absolutely huge, and it turned out that a second houseful for transport north was to be loaded after ours. Which meant that our belongings had to be very tightly packed, and reach up to the roof of the lorry. Seven hours later (yes, seven hours! there were only two men, but they worked non-stop) everything that was going was loaded, and without ceremony the lorry departed.

Leaving us with an empty house.

Well, if only that were true!

We had always known that we were going to take lots of equipment in the horsebox, along with the gates we had yet to remove from fields. And during the loading process we found ourselves saying, all too frequently, “It’s OK, we’re taking that”. So we found that we had half a garage full of things, as well as loads of stuff stacked in one bedroom. And then there were the large tubs of plants, which the removers had been unable to load because they were leaking water. And the chickens of course, together with their house.

I began to realise that this might not be as easy as we had thought . . . .