Sometimes it is easy to go, other times it is harder and Tuesday 17th May 2016 was to be both.  Mostly it was to prove the former but there was a tense wait to see if the hire car was to turn up.  We had decided to drive down to Heathrow rather than fly.  Yes I know flying down would be quicker and ordinarily easier, but my back was an unknown entity and we didn’t know how it was going to play out with it and flying, but we knew how to manage it with driving, and so we had chosen to drive down to Heathrow rather than fly down.  I had this worry that if I established it was going to be very painful flying because of the position sitting up, something I’m not actually that good at even now writing this up, almost 2 months to the date since arriving in Australia, that I might not want to/could not actually continue with the rather long flights we had ahead on us (22hrs and then another of 75 minutes).

Driving down also meant that we were able to call in at my parents’ home for lunch and goodbyes which worked out rather well really.

The weather held out nicely again, as it had done for both Sunday and Monday, and so we were able to get some photos outside of everyone.  And before long we were on our way down to Heathrow.

The plan was to meet up with David at Heathrow and he literally arrived as we did so timing could not have been better.  We were able to find a space in the disabled car parking which made life much easier, but sadly the car company Stuart’s work use didn’t have a branch anywhere in the actual terminal buildings so once Stuart had installed David and I at a Costa Cafe inside the relevant terminal, he had to go and return the car then catch a terminal bus to get back to us.  At least David and I got chance to talk again before we left and his help inside the terminal until we had registered with the assistance people (previously attached) was enormously useful and we were both very grateful for it because it had been a very busy few days and we had 6 suitcases plus me in the wheelchair holding onto my crutches to negotiate through to the plane.

(find pictures from phone and edit them upload).

And so life without our personal effects began.

Once all the stuff going to Australia had gone, the house was a touch clearer and the cleaning could begin.  But we still had to live in the house for the next 2 weeks and we still had to work out what was going with us (sorry, already done, but not quite) and what we needed to get rid of, but some of it like the washing machine, fridge, freezer, microwave, kettle and so on was needed until the last minute.

And then there was the question of suitcases.  We didn’t own any. Pure and simple, we had to go on a shopping trip to buy some.  We didn’t buy enough as it was to turn out.  It wasn’t a question of could I get it all into the suitcases, but a question of me being able to keep the suitcases under the required weight limits as it was to turn out.  Oh well another large and another cabin sized had to be purchased the day before we flew.

Helen, our cleaning lady was to put in extra hours helping to get the house clean and I was exceptionally grateful for her help, but even with her help we knew we needed to get the place cleaner.  Luckily she was also our landlady’s cleaner so we knew that our landlady would be happy with her cleaning!

Then the was a lot of furniture, the car, the white goods and other bits that needed a new home.  Sadly the car could not come to Australia with us because it failed on 3 of the 4 criteria, not least of all we had not owned it for more than 12 months. The rest of the stuff was either sold to people or given away on freecycle with the proviso that it had to be collected on a certain date or couple of days, so that we could maximise how long we kept it for.

Slowly the house got emptier and emptier until finally there was the stuff our cleaning lady was having, the stuff going with us and the stuff that was homeless (one box) plus a few plants which we forgot to pass on to the correct people and they got left at Stuart’s parents’ home.

The leaving day just got nearer and nearer. Moving out was easier than expected in some ways, but harder in others.  Dusty, the Irish Wolf Hound we had known for the entire 4 years, knew something was amiss.  We had one final goodbye and it was time to leave.