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image(…with just a hint of an apology to a Warren Zevon!)

it matters little that the Girl and I have been planning our move to Canada for a half decade now. No amount of imagining or fore-thought could have prepared us for the sensation that we are now experiencing in this strangely suspended state on the eve of departure. It must – of course – be much the same for all who pursue a similar course of action, but that is of oddly little comfort.

To reach the point at which we could transfer our existence to the far side of the globe it has been necessary for us – slowly but surely – to dismantle our life in the UK. Thus it is that I find myself now – for the first time since I achieved majority – devoid of paid employ, no longer the owner of land or property, without a motor vehicle or a mobile phone to my name and living out of a suitcase.

I feel strangely rootless and – dare I say it – practically stateless. Actually I dare not – of course – since that really would be a travesty in the light of the unfortunate thousands that truly are so.

Which having been said…

I have long carried with me at all times that which those of a sensitive disposition might refer to as a Mens’ Personal Organiser – but which the more brutal still stigmatise as a Manbag. This most useful carryall incorporates a large pocket at the front in which I habitually keep my keys… office keys, School master keys, house keys, car keys…

For the first time since I started carrying said tote in my early twenties, the key compartment is empty…

…which is a very odd feeling…

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…cometh the men…

…the men from Bournes’ International Moves to take away all our worldly possessions en route to Canada, that is!

Having myself nothing more useful to do I took some snaps…

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

After a day and a half of febrile packing a strange beast appeared – our 20ft container.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

A couple of hours later the shrewd packers from Bournes’ proved that their estimators had totally nailed the volume required during their survey.

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

The inventory taken and the shipping manifest complete, both our movers and the driver of the truck applied their seals.

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

As if by magic the truck extended its bed to its full length…

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

…and monents later it was gone!

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

Well – if anything got packed to which we should have hung on, we are not going to see it again now for a couple of months.

 

 

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Exclamation_mark_redPerfunctory
pəˈfʌŋ(k)t(ə)ri
adjective

adjective: perfunctory

  1. <(of an action) carried out without real interest, feeling, or effort.
    “he gave a perfunctory nod”

My apologies if recent posts have come over as being a little on the – er – perfunctory side. If I may plead an excuse – there is quite a lot going on at the moment! I do have a fair bit to report and much upon which to elaborate, but that may all have to wait until we actually find ourselves with some time on our hands.

Much of last week was given over to a series of fond farewells which – as you might imagine – caused no small amount heart-string tugging.  For emotional relief we indulged ourselves with a long wished-for trip to town to observe the taping of one of our favourite satirical TV shows – “Mock the Week“. The Girl has been applying for tickets for this chuckle-fest pretty much throughout the whole of the last decade – to this point with no joy whatsoever. Pleading that she was about to leave the country, however, seems to have done the trick and around a month ago a pair of priority tickets popped through the letterbox.

Mock the Week is a spoof news-based quiz show purportedly pitting against each other two teams of three comedians. The show is hosted by – and is in large part dependent for its success upon – the estimable Dara O’Brean. Whereas we never doubted that the twenty nine minutes that go to air each week are in fact culled from a considerably greater pool of material, we had not imagined for a moment that what the audience in the studio is actually presented with is more than three hours of inspired riffing on current affairs topics, a fair bit of which is completely un-broadcastable. The show is taped on a Tuesday night and broadcast the following Thursday and I for one have no idea how they manage to produce a coherent and highly entertaining program from the chaos with which the studio audience is presented.

 

In an abrupt change of gear, this – for those who are interested – is how the remainder of this week pans out.

  • Wednesday – our movers arrive to start packing.
  • Thursday – our movers finish packing and start moving! Having no bed we spend the night in an hotel.
  • Friday – we (and our cleaners) clean the Berkshire apartment, and our carpet cleaner then cleans the carpets. Obvious really. Still no bed, so back to the hotel we go.
  • Saturday – all done at the apartment and now just the cars to dispose of (to those who have kindly already agreed to purchase them from us), haircuts to have and odds and sods to deliver to all and sundry. Thence to another hotel – this time on the outskirts of the Airport.
  • Sunday – check in… and check out! Apparently this ain’t the Hotel California and we can – after all – leave…

 

BC here we come!

 

 

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Image from PixabayThe antithesis of my love of language is a complete loathing for jargon in all its forms. This antipathy can manifest in different ways, from sitting in the back row at a product launch playing ‘Jargon Bingo‘* with colleagues, to getting into trouble at a high level meeting for snorting derisively and rather too publicly when one of the great and the good insisted that we must ‘get all of our ducks in a row‘. I won’t go so far as to claim that that faux pas cost me the job but I was gone from that worthy establishment within the year.

As you might imagine, ‘box ticking‘ registers fairly highly on the list of management-speak activities that sets my teeth on edge. Box ticking – however – is what the Kickass Canada Girl and I have been engaged in as we attempt to effect our egress from the country without forgetting anything important.

These things have we done in the past few days – in no particular order:

  • Cancelled the landline at our Berkshire apartment for our day of departure
  • Cancelled the broadband circuit at our Berkshire apartment for our day of departure
  • Ensured that we would not be liable to pay Council Tax on our Buckinghamshire apartment
  • Ensured that we would not be charged over the odds for gas and electricity at our Buckinghamshire apartment
  • Booked hotels for the nights between moving out of the Berkshire apartment and leaving for Victoria
  • Arranged an appointment with the bank to discuss our legacy financial arrangements in the UK
  • Spoken with Her Majesties Revenue and Customs (HMRC) to clarify how to get my tax coding changed after retirement
  • Responded to further queries from our purchasers solicitors regarding the sale of our Buckinghamshire apartment
  • Booked carpet cleaners for the Berkshire apartment subsequent to our moving out

This I have not done – though not for want of trying:

  • Cancelled my mobile (cell) phone contract. The contract actually runs until November 17th and would cost more to bail out of than to continue paying until then. However – it can only be cancelled by giving 30 days’ notice by phone, which means remembering to call Vodafone on or around 17th October – by which time we will of course be in Canada. Bah!

Still much to do!

 

* ‘Jargon Bingo’ appears usually to be called ‘Buzzword Bingo’ on the American continent. Same game!

jargon

Oh – I forgot ‘Brand Essence’…

Doh!

 

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Photo by Andy Dawson Reid…until I retire!

Actually it is a little less than a month, being a mere four weeks… or twenty working days…

A rapid (and doubtless wildly inaccurate) calculation suggests that over the last forty years I have worked somewhere around nine thousand and two hundred days. And now I have only twenty to go!

Further – there are only six weeks left until we leave these shores and head west.

So – how is it all going?

In many ways things are going well, though there is no point in pretending that for either the Kickass Canada Girl or for I will the run in to our final days at work involve anything much beyond hard work and barely suppressed panic. Any notion of a gentle wind-down complete with much appreciative backslapping and ‘take it easy old chap – no point in busting a gut now‘ bonhomie was swiftly disabused by our respective managements on realising that some three quarters of a century of accumulated knowledge and wisdom was about to walk out of the door and that – for a variety of reasons – the ensuing skills-transfer and handover was probably not going to provide the well-oiled succession that might have been hoped for.

No matter. This too shall pass!

Other issues at the UK end are more promising. As previously reported my Canadian PR has been confirmed – our movers have been booked – our finances are as organised as it is possible for them to be.

You may have observed that I have – quite intentionally – remained remarkably reticent regarding the sale of our Buckinghamshire apartment, for fear of hexing the enterprise. I am not about to uncross my fingers – or indeed anything else – at this stage, but we do continue to be cautiously optimistic that all will be well in this regard.

At the Canadian end promising progress is being made. Our dear friends in Saanichton have already booked season tickets for us at The Belfry Theatre in Victoria and – on a completely different note – have also passed on to us details of a couple of possible contacts with as yet unlisted houses for sale. I for one continue to believe that all of this stuff will shake out just right at just the right time.

It is now up to the universe – in the words of Captain Jean Luc Picard – to “make it so!”.*

 

* Incidentally – I found on the InterWebNet a discussion on the origin of this distinctive phrase. It turns out to be considerably older than one might expect and is most likely naval in origin. Here it is in Herman Melville’s ‘White Jacket’ of 1850:

“The captain’s word is law; he never speaks but in the imperative mood. When he stands on his Quarter-deck at sea, he absolutely commands as far as eye can reach. Only the moon and stars are beyond his jurisdiction. He is lord and master of the sun.

It is not twelve o’clock till he says so. For when the sailing-master, whose duty it is to take the regular observation at noon, touches his hat, and reports twelve o’clock to the officer of the deck; that functionary orders a midshipman to repair to the captain’s cabin, and humbly inform him of the respectful suggestion of the sailing-master.

“Twelve o’clock reported, sir,” says the middy.

“Make it so,” replies the captain.

And the bell is struck eight by the messenger-boy, and twelve o’clock it is.”

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zero“Generally speaking, we get the joke. We know that the free market is nonsense. We know that the whole point is to game the system, to beat the market or at least find someone who will pay you a lot of money, ’cause they’re convinced that there is a free lunch.”

Ron Bloom

We all know this to be a truism – that there is no free lunch and that always, always, the little guy ends up paying – and through the nose at that!

Except – perhaps – when it comes to that totally wonderful organisation – Freecycle!

You may be familiar with their mission statement:

“Welcome! The Freecycle Network™ is made up of 5,238 groups with 8,743,027 members around the world. It’s a grassroots and entirely nonprofit movement of people who are giving (and getting) stuff for free in their own towns. It’s all about reuse and keeping good stuff out of landfills. Each local group is moderated by local volunteers (them’s good people). Membership is free. To sign up, find your community by entering it into the search box above or by clicking on ‘Browse Groups’ above the search box. Have fun!”

Not for the first time we find ourselves massively grateful that such an organisation exists. We have in just a few days found a good home for my treasured piano, for a surplus double bed and for some old bookcases that had been in use in the garage (‘shop’ to our Canadian friends) to house the usual tool-shed detritus.

If one were to ask for advice in this day and age regarding the disposal of an old upright piano the received wisdom would be that “you couldn’t give it away”. Except that it turns out that you can! Selling a piano may indeed be a near impossibility (given that most of us do not have the space for such a beast even should we actually want a real one rather than an electronic substitute) but Freecycle has enabled us to locate a good home for the instrument with someone who will appreciate it and use it but who couldn’t possibly have justified the cost of purchasing one.

Likewise the bed – really nothing special though in good condition – went to someone who was so grateful to have it that it hurt… and the bookcases – which I was all for taking to the dump (as we call landfills here in the UK) – have found a home with someone who ‘distresses’ furniture. Not that they will need to do too much in this case!

Each of these items came into our possession in a different way. They have all served us well and owe us nothing. We are delighted that we can now freely pass them on to others for whom they will have their own uses and meanings.

How satisfying is that?

 

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Photo by Andy Dawson ReidAt around about this time last year the Kickass Canada Girl and I were eagerly anticipating our then imminent excursion to Barcelona on which we accompanied the A level Theatre Studies students from the School. As I wrote in a post at the time, Easter last year fell about as late as is possible and our jaunt to Catalonia was over and done before the feast itself was celebrated.

Whereas the festal day this year is not quite as early as that of 2013 it is still a little on the precipitate side. As a result the weather – until today at any rate – has been anything but spring-like – erring in fact on the side of the distinctly chilly and leaden. Normal Easter bank holiday activities – dropping the top on the convertible, sitting outside some pleasantly rural hostelry nursing a glass of cool Sauvignon Blanc and otherwise generally celebrating of the vernal season – have thus had to be put on hold.

As it happens this is no bad thing as there is much to be done.

The bulk of the holiday weekend was thus spent sorting through cupboards, bookcases, storage shelves and the loft above the garage, doing what Canadians – and doubtless plenty of others (though clearly not Apple who auto-correct the phrase to ‘bucking’) – describe as ‘hucking out’ all those goods and chattels that will not be making the trip to the Pacific North West with us. Normally a brutal operation, on this occasion the task was facilitated considerably by its being the fourth such episode within the last decade. When the Girl and I moved in together in 2005 we had of necessity to find space for our combined possessions. Then, when we first put the Buckinghamshire apartment on the market in 2011, we had a clear out as part of the staging process. Further, when we came to Berkshire later that same year we carried out yet another purge to ease the move.

Now the process must be repeated – this time with an immovable deadline!

All the surveys carried out by our shortlisted international movers agree on one thing – we have approximately 10% more ‘stuff’ than will fit in a 20 foot container. As we are determined that this will be our limit some things clearly have to go. The double bed from our spare room – an inexpensive item purchased primarily for the staging exercise – was an obvious selection. My piano – a rather beautiful Edwardian upright that I inherited from my father – is considerably tougher to part with. The balance is tipped by the knowledge that the trans-Atlantic crossing might in any case prove rather too much for its increasingly fragile fabric. The challenge now is to find a good home for it before we depart.

All else is really just nipping and tucking to bring down the volume – but there is no harm in that in any case.

 

I am perhaps actually being a little unfair with regard to the holiday break as a whole. The Girl is in the midst of a two week exeat from work – taken in part to use up leave that she would otherwise lose. In addition I took the Thursday before and the Tuesday after Easter off so that we might share a six day recess during which sojourn we could once again rehearse being retired together.

I am very happy to report that it has all gone extremely well…

…as has the opportunity to catch up last Friday with some dear friends whom we have not seen since last autumn. Our most grateful thanks to them for entertaining us so splendidly!

 

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"Alex Pickering van"  - Photo by Harry Shipler - Wikimedia Commons In a previous post – ‘Movers and Shakers‘ – I described our search for an international removals company who could assist us – for a healthy fee, it must be said – with our relocation in July to Victoria, BC.

As that post made clear the process involves a fair amount of research even before the first call is placed, if one is to avoid the fate of those poor souls who bewail their lot on the expat InterWebNet fora as a result of having been ripped off, treated negligently or finding themselves the victims of some insensate act of god… without adequate insurance!

We felt confident that we would be treated well by our chosen quartet of companies – Abels, Bournes, GB Liners and Renmar – and that indeed proved to be that case. None of them flinched under the Kickass Canada Girl’s steely gaze and each responded to her carefully weighted interrogation with an appropriate degree of confidence. They clearly all know what they are about.

Fundamentally all four companies offer a very similar service. They take similar routes, use similar storage facilities, take much the same time and trouble with packing, offer much the same insurance and have almost identical terms and conditions. They all have a decent track record and belong to one or other of the well established trade associations.

What did come as a bit of a surprise – therefore – was that they quoted a wide spread of prices, from around £6,500 (including the quoted insurance) to getting on for £11,500. Each of the companies was quizzed further in an attempt to identify some discrepancy in their offering that had not hitherto been apparent – but there did not appear to us to be any substantive difference that would account for the price gap.

In the end the field was narrowed down to two very similar offerings that were only a few hundred pounds apart. Our ultimate choice was based to an extent on membership of the British Association or Removers (BAR) – the which operates a very useful guarantee scheme in the unlikely event of the carrier folding at the critical moment.

Our chosen international removal company is Bournes International Moves.

The expat fora on the Interwebnet offer much advice on the subject of insurance – largely to the effect that one should eschew that offered by the carrier (at a healthy premium) in favour of a keener deal from a specialist third-party. Opinion seemed to be divided – however – as to whether or not this course of action would make one’s life harder should a claim become necessary. As we (or at least this half of us!) are now officially old farts we decided to take the course of least resistance and to accept what was actually not an outrageous mark-up from our chosen tranter.

Fingers, arms, legs, toes, eyes, etc, etc – firmly crossed that it will not be needed…

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Image from PixabayIn a previous posting – released into the wild in the earliest days of this unruly month and somewhat cheekily entitled “Much ado” – I offered the determined reader a ‘shopping list’ of things that must be done to progress our emigration, now that we have handed in our notices to our respective (and understandably heartbroken) employers.

It ran thus:

In the immediate future we must:

  • set in motion our remaining pension plans
  • ensure that everything required for the smooth transition of our tax arrangements has been done
  • check that the necessary finances are in place
  • book our one-way flights to BC
  • arrange surveys and obtain quotes from a number of international moving companies
  • push through the refurbishments necessary at our Buckinghamshire apartment
  • agree a notice period with our tenant

The gentle reader is doubtless eager to know how things are progressing. Herewith my end-of-month report:

  • My remaining pension provider (the School) has been alerted to the upcoming transition and I await the necessary paperwork.
  • Much research has been done on the means to effect the necessary tax changes. I have a feeling that some professional advice may yet be required if all is to progress seamlessly.
  • As far as is possible at this point the required finances have been marshaled into the appropriate positions.
  • Our one-way flights to Victoria have been booked – taking full advantage of the Air miles accrued during the Kickass Canada Girl’s sojourn in beautiful British Columbia in 2012.
  • We have been surveyed to the utmost degree by our panel of international movers and have on this very day confirmed a booking with our chosen tranter.
  • We have effected the necessary repairs and redecorations at our Buckinghamshire apartment.
  • Our tenant has agreed to vacate the apartment at the very start of May.

Thus far – so good… I will naturally report further on the next steps to be taken as they become apparent.

Full steam ahead!

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Photo by Andy Dawson Reid“What you do for a living is not be creative, what you do for a living is ship.”

Seth Godin

This week’s task – to identify a suitable company of international movers who can assist us with transferring all of our precious goods and chattels across the pond to the fair shores of British Columbia… preferably without breaking the bank (or indeed the goods and chattels!) in the process.

As with so many things concerning emigration from the UK the best place to start is the British Expats website – to which regular readers will know that I make frequent reference within these jottings. The fora on that site contain a wealth of knowledge and experience from those who have trodden these paths before us, and many a pitfall may be judiciously avoided by careful study thereon.

Looking for recommendations for removal companies on online fora is not unlike searching for a decent hotel on Tripadvisor. Though this is undoubtedly the best way of finding a berth for the night, for every five-star “like our honeymoon all over again” review one must be prepared to wade through the morass of one-star “worst night of my life“, and “would’a given it zero stars if your lousy system had let me” diatribes.

Seeking an international mover yields similar results. For each “I would have trusted them with my priceless collection of Jihong porcelain” comment one finds a raft of “they charged me for a second container for one extra box“, and “the guy stood outside and smoked the whole time and then broke a teacup” complaints.

Clearly the whole operation is a lottery!

Somehow, from this fountain of fulmination we were yet able to identify at least a few concerns that seemed consistently to elicit more praise than approbrium. These were clearly the people to approach. The thought naturally crossed our minds that they might also be the most expensive – but what price should one put on one’s precious possessions? That is – of course – actually a good question, since an accurate valuation is required for insurance purposes!

Enough – however – of this wordplay…

We came up with a shortlist of four companies – GB Liners – Bournes – Abels and Renmer and reached for the phone. All have subsequently visited and been shown around the estate by the Kickass Canada Girl, who has also subjected each of them to the third degree regarding their modus operadi. We are now collecting quotes prior to making a decision and – ultimately – a booking.

Progress! Progress!

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