There is always a sadness about packing. I guess you wonder if where you’re going is as good as where you’ve been
Richard Proenneke
I have mixed emotions about packing. Packing suitcases to go away on a summer holiday fills me with excitement and anticipation. Packing my old trunk to go back to boarding school at the end of the holidays was less welcome. Packing up an entire house to emigrate to a relatively unknown country was a completely new experience altogether.
I started with good intentions. I felt positive about using this opportunity to clear out all the things we had accumulated over the last decade, a double garage and a loft filled with bags of baby clothes, toys, and old furniture that had never found a place in our home.
Every item in the house was to sell, ship or store. Cash payments for small items or for anything belonging to the children were put into a “Dubai kitty”, a good incentive to sort through the toy mountain and look forward to some new beach toys for Dubai.
Inevitably, my good intentions disappeared in a whirlwind of work, children, paperwork and goodbyes. Selling takes time, especially answering the endless obscure questions on Ebay. Instead I made use of the many local charity shops and used Freecycle to mop up any leftover items. It then took 3 days of professional packing and “ship…store” to empty the house.
Finally, all that remained was a completely empty house, 3 big suitcases, 3 small cases, 2 children and 1 slightly emotional and exhausted Mummy.
DubaiSwan 