• Living the Dream – 16. Landed

    Yasu! We’ve landed.

    First Days

    On Saturday the 22nd of September 2018, we left home at 4 am and by a pleasingly symmetrical 4 pm we were at the house in Cyprus, our home for the foreseeable future.
    We are settling in; assessing the losses from the burglary, working out where our furniture is going be placed when it arrives and generally feeling our way in to the new life.
    Exciting isn’t it?
    Erm…well, hmmm…

    Feelings

    Curiously, neither of us knows quite how to feel. Margaret desperately wants to organise stuff, but is a bit snookered until our belongings arrive. We are beefing up home security and taking stock of all the things that need to be done around and about the house.

    Nero

    The arrival of Nero, who landed a couple of days ago, has impacted us both. Airlines regard pets as freight. If that’s the starting point, things are unlikely to go well. Two employees at Larnaca airport probably have no idea how close they were to very sudden blunt trauma injuries as they faffed about being bureaucratic halfwits. Fortunately, I resisted the temptation to punch anyone through a wall, and Mags, Nero and I are together at last. All of us needed a stiff drink.
    The stress of his arrival apart, Nero has given me a bit of rhythm. My day starts with his walk, as does my evening, when we meander around the village, greeting all and sundry. Thus far, our favourite restaurants have been welcoming of him, (on the terrace) bar one, who has had a customer go nuts at the sight of a dog. Neither Mags and I has been willing to leave him alone – not until he is a bit more settled. As I type this, on the terrace, he is dozing at my feet, looking for all the world, master of his territory.

    Perhaps, I’m settling in more than I think.

  • Living the Dream – 15. Packed

    Packed

    Packed. Our entire house has been packed. As this post is published, the container is on the truck, on its way to the ship.

    Late Saturday night, I returned from the Camino , having walked 130 miles in 6 days, tired but happy.

    On Tuesday morning, three cheery guys, well, two cheery guys and a moody, quiet one, turned up ready to get the house packed. The challenge is to stop them packing stuff. Let your attention drift for a second and your hand luggage is beautifully encased in cardboard and packing-tape.
    They have accounted for two short packing days and then to load the container itself on the third. This includes the car, which needs to be valeted before it goes into the container. Well, you wouldn’t want any English dirt getting into Cyprus, would you?

    If anything, it’s surprising how quickly the house is broken down into cardboard boxes and furniture components.

    Powerless

    Margaret and I are alternately excited and growling at each other. So much to do and yet such a feeling of redundancy. Things are happening around us. Tenants move into the house next week.
    Nero, the beloved miniature schnauzer, begins his journey on Friday, when he goes to spend a few days with the agency that are shipping him to Cyprus. We have a car booked for 4am on Saturday. We will arrive on Saturday afternoon, with plenty of time for some sunbathing and a dip in the pool before dinner. Nero arrives on Tuesday lunchtime, completing the family again.

    Holiday

    Margaret has declared us ‘on holiday’ until the container arrives a couple of weeks later. Time to recharge before taking on the task of unpacking and rearranging everything. There will be some admin to get started – applying for residence permits and the like, as well as dealing with the aftermath of the burglary.
    That said, I’m looking forward to some swimming, some golf and frankly, some rest.

  • Living the Dream – 14. On Camino

    The Camino de Santiago. This post will, through the magic of wordpress, go live as I am finishing up a thirty two kilometre walk from Sahagún to Religeos.

    If you want to know more about the Camino, and why I’m walking it, click the ‘Camino’ category on the page and you’ll get a list of relevant posts.

    The photo is by Drew Robinson, whose excellent blog you can find here.

    Given the choice, Margaret preferred to have me disappear for a week before we left, rather than after. Understandably, she’d like to be a little more familiar with Cyprus before holding the fort alone for a week.

    While I’m swanning about in Northern Spain, there will be lots of packing and organising going on in England, so both Mags and I are playing to our strengths.

    This trip, my Camino-buddy, and best friend Stuart (no, really, that’s his name too), and I are planning to cover one hundred and twenty miles over six days. Twenty miles a day is a decent walk. I daresay at the end of it, I’ll be physically exhausted.

    Nevertheless, mentally, I will be completely refreshed. I cannot think of a better antidote to the stress of emigrating. The joy of the Camino is the singularity of it. Each day, we have one aim. To walk to the next stop. When hungry, we will stop and eat. When tired, we will sleep. At times we will talk, at others we may not even walk together. The Camino allows me the chance to be inside my own head. (It’s a weird place to be, trust me!)

    Life has a new rhythm. We arrive to our stop, check in, shower, change and then wash the clothes we just took off. Administration completed, we head out for food and wine. We write our journals, laugh and swap tall tales with fellow pilgrims. Sated, we’ll be early to bed and early to rise. The next day, we’ll do it all again.

    Once I’m back, we’ll be six days from leaving for Cyprus. The movers will be coming, there will be a thousand things that need doing, but I’ll be ready for them. Walking the Camino supercharges the soul and the spirit.

    Tough on the feet though.

  • Living the Dream – 13. Farewell

    Farewell!

    I’m all out of weekends. Not that I have cancelled them, but I have no more weekends in England. As I write this, I am preparing for my walking trip in Spain, which runs from next Saturday morning until the following Saturday night, and the one after that is departure day for the big adventure.

    A few people have asked us when our farewell party is happening. I laugh. Margaret is, overall, much nicer than me and frets over whether we should have one. Inevitably, time is accelerating, and neither of us has a free day or evening between now and departure.

    I handed in my locker key at the golf club last weekend. I’m not going to get another round in before we leave. Sad though I am to no longer be a member of Tidworth Garrison Golf Club, I’m excited to be a member at Secret Valley Golf Club. This mirrors how Margaret and I feel about the whole move. There is much here in England that we will muss, but there is more in Cyprus to look forward to.

    I paid the moving company today.

    I needed a sit down afterwards.

    Even the insurance bill made me catch my breath. Door to door, our chattels will be in transit for two weeks or so. To insure them for that time will cost us 1.5% of the declared value. An annualised cost of nearly 40%.

    Now, I’m no mariner, but as far as I’m aware, my furniture is unlikely to come up against Somali pirates as it hugs France’s Atlantic coast before turning left into the Mediterranean Sea; which is usually about as tempestuous as a puddle. As with all insurance, if we don’t need it, it’s incredibly expensive – if we do need it, it will be very cheap.

    The picture is taken on my morning commute – which is one thing that I will miss, although I daresay a swim in the pool will be just as much fun.