Farewell London

Mid August 2020, and our lives have changed forever. It's something Ian and I have been planning and talking about for well over a year, but today’s the day. In my younger days I would never have believed it if I knew I would be 50, have no fixed abode, and be happier than I have ever been.

I retired (early. VERY, very early!) this year Ian retired a while ago, again very early and we're leaving London. We’ve sold the house, and are trying to buy a home on the Isle of Wight, but that’s taking a while, so we are off to live in Agy, our fabulous campervan. We're not really sure where we will go, or even what’s possible; although lockdown is lifting, Corona virus is very much part of our lives, and our primary aim is to be safe and ensure those we meet are safe too.

Last week we donated most of our furniture to @EmmausGreenwich. A charity that supports and enables people who are homeless. Let's face it, any of us could find ourselves in this position if life changes unexpectedly (at one point a very long time ago, my life changed in an instant, despite a great job and incredibly supportive family and friends. If they hadn’t been able to offer me a bed, I too would have been homeless.). We don’t know when we will be able to move into a new home, so our important possessions are going into storage and we also don’t really know what will fit in our new home, so off most things go. We’re hoping they bring a little stability and joy to someone else.

Things all happened a bit quickly in the end as moving to the Isle of Wight brings a little more complexity than your average move. That little bit of water that makes the island so special also means most removal firms charge the earth to go (one didn’t even realise they would need a ferry to get there), so an island-based firm makes much more sense, financially and practically. Most have storage facilities, as well as doing the move, as it seems we're not the first to sell and have yet to complete a purchase on the island. Things will be a little slower than in London – something we want to embrace but it will take time to get used to! However, as lockdown hasn’t been lifted long the rush is on for everyone who wants to move, so there is one date available to move out, and it's less than a week from setting the date for exchange. With furniture mostly gone, we frantically pack the last few items on the hottest days of the year, and boy was it hot. Over 30 degrees most days, so to say we were melting is an understatement. Fortunately we are both planners, so the majority has been done for months, but those last few items seem to add up to a lot!

As the removal firm arrives, we finished packing Agy, filled her up with water and said goodbye to our city life. A strange feeling of excitement, uncertainty, and recognition that we have been very happy in London and will miss some of the buzz a multicultural city "where anything goes" brings, and our little bit of the Thames.

If I’m honest, it's a bigger leap for me than Ian. He can’t wait to live by the sea, nor can I, but I do love a crowded pavement (I know, it’s odd). We did however discover a special (!) kind of person before we left. There was always lots of parking near our house, but to make life as easy as possible for the guys actually lifting furniture, we knew some would have to come out the front, and some the back. As many of us will have done before, we thought  we would pop something out to keep the 2 spaces at the back of the house free, so they could manoeuvre the van to be as close as possible. So out went our bins in the middle of the parking spaces (believe me there were at least 20 spare!). What do you know, before we knew it, someone had parked in the space, backed up to the bin and left the front end in the road - on a corner! But it's OK, they left... along comes another car, reverses into the space, gets out and starts to move the bin... I'm speechless, but very politely shout out the first floor living room window (not at all like a fishwife), "Excuse me, we are moving out, so hoped to keep these spaces free", "Oh", he says,"I did wonder why there was a bin here, no worries" and moves to another space. 

As happens when you get down to the last few bits, you have filled the random item box and the van has gone. Then you do the last sweep of the house, grab the final items - in this case Ian's favourite trousers, he has swapped for shorts earlier in the day. The aren't expensive, or smart, but are his favourite, comfy, lightweight, showerproof, great for the outdoor life, walking and being on a campsite or doing DIY/ renovations. I have no idea what to do with them as they need washing and all we have is a tiny van, so I grabbed the nearest bag and popped them in along with a T shirt and put them with the other things to go in Agy at the bottom of the stairs. That pile got bigger and bigger, but finally we were ready, rubbish out, quick wipe round and we're off.

Our first stop is to see my dad. We haven’t seen him since December due to lockdown, and he has been incredible coping with being alone, with support from my sister and his friends who have shopped for him, but it’s far too long, when you know you may not have that many opportunities to see him again. 

Just as we are safely on the M25 I have the most awful thought. I didn't put Ian's trousers in the van.... and the bag to hand, you guessed it, a black bin bag. A quick glance down and I can see his wallet... but the trousers... nope not a chance they are with us, Ian put the bins out not me. OK, I have to own this, I have always believed we should own our mistakes, so I have to confess. I gently, calmly, quietly in my 'best calm the situation' learnt helpline voice’ (I used to work on a cancer information helpline)mention that I don't remember putting the bag containing his trousers in the van. I confess to the bin bag. Ian looks startled!, He too thinks about his wallet, but thankfully after the odd expletive from us both (to be honest it was stupid putting them in a bin bag when the house is full of them waiting to be disposed of). he is remarkably calm. Probably more so than me! We can find more, they came from a shop we know Southampton has, we can pop in there on our way to the Isle of Wight, they'll be in stock, I reassure.They have been the trouser of choice on every tip we have had in Agy, as our photo's of previous trips testify, why on earth would Ian need them on the longest trip we have ever had?