A Man with a Van

Tuesday 20th February

Our “Man with a Van” turned out to be Indonesian, which isn’t what you expect of a bloke called Barry.

We finally moved out of the holiday let this morning after Ella had gone to her new nursery. It took quite some planning; the washing machine and fridge had to be delivered at lunchtime, the bed collected in the afternoon and the futon at 3pm. Barry did a sterling job, but also spun Darren a sob story about having to support his wife and four children on what he earns with his little van. I think there might also have been a bit about rowing across the Timor Sea in a milk float, so he got a hefty tip for his trouble.

The new flat is much bigger, with a large sitting room (with a “feature wall” painted Cadbury’s Purple, just to rub it in), dining area, small-ish kitchen and a laundry room separated by a sliding door. The bedrooms are at the back, on ground level, with patio doors onto a courtyard full of lizards and ferns. The flyscreen on our patio door has a hole in it large enough for a family of possums, so that will be staying permanently closed. The front of the flat is on a hill so we are raised from the ground and have a large balcony with a lovely view of trees and what the local estate agents would call “ocean cameos” of the Pacific (which means you can glimpse it through the trees, though the view is good enough to check the weather out at sea). There is a pool right outside, which is hardly ever used, yet is warm as a bath and a communal BBQ area, though I’m not sure it looks clean enough to actually cook anything on.

We had to inspect the flat before we moved anything in to check that we agree with the estate agent’s condition report. The bond (deposit) for the flat is held by the “bond board”, who decide how much of it you can have back after the term of the tenancy, according to how much damage you’ve done.

After that it was a complete free-for-all with boxes and bags all over the place, Darren knocking together Ella’s new cot, a Japanese bloke turning up with the appliances and lugging them up the stairs alone (making loud grunting sounds – I was unsure whether he wanted my help or a tip for his trouble, but he got neither) and the most unlikely-looking Darren and Barry combo shifting the heavy stuff. The sofas, which were donated to Jo and Gordon and subsequently to us, are truly hideous (and strangely small, as though intended for Lilliputians) but they were free. They are so offensive that we have to cover them with throws, and as the throws need to be constantly re-arranged, I’ll be amazed if they last the year without us going loony bonkers.

In the afternoon I collected Ella from nursery. The staff reported she’d had a great day, and I was surprised (and somewhat livid) to learn that she’s had an afternoon nap of over an hour for them. When I met her in the outside play area, she was barefoot, covered with sand and wearing most of her lunch on her tee-shirt. She was also smiling broadly. We made the right choice for her.