Linda finishes too

Linda has now finished work as well. She came home Friday and said “what the hell have we done?”, “well there’s no going back now.” After spending all day clearing things out and decorating, it’s really hitting home. The stuff you come across is beyond belief, we found a couple of boxes of photos in the loft, very hard not to spend a few hours going through them, although Linda did spend an hour or so “peeking” in the boxes. We have now made arrangements to borrow some loft space from other family members, some things you need to keep just in case, so the winter clothes are getting sealed in “vac bags” too stop them going “foisty”, and away they go. Not sure I’ve spelt “foisty” right, but I’m sure you know what I mean. Along with these will go the saucepan set we got for our wedding, and the odd electrical kitchen appliance that we have actually used, the deep fat fryer went to a car boot sale ages ago. One thing not being kept is the museum piece Amstrad “word processor”, yes, the ones that had black and white screens, anyone remember them? All told, the piles are getting smaller, and fewer. The half empty paint cans are now fewer in number too, it seems many of them were the same colour, they just got “lost” in the garage.

We’ve been clearing the kitchen cabinets too. Our booze is on the top shelf of one of these, with the glasses on the shelf underneath. Not having to worry too much about alarm clocks going off, we have been “using up” some of the half empty bottles. In the corner of the top shelf was an unopened bottle of Romanian brandy, which not wanting to open it, I decided to give this to the father in law. He came up for lunch today, and the brandy was placed on the kitchen worktop for him to take home. He’s eighty two by the way, and a true Yorkshire man, as in pay nowt. He prefers Ron Miel, but finding it around Alicante seems difficult, this may not be his favourite, but costing nowt, it would go in his coffee, no problem. Lunch was roast pork, with the vegetables all thrown in together with a good drizzle of olive oil, and left to roast. This emptied the olive oil bottle, which Linda duly washed out, and put on the worktop to be taken out for recycling. Time for Frank to go home, coat and cap on, “don’t forget the brandy”, “right” was the reply, and off he tottered down the hallway clutching a square green bottle for all his life was worth. Perhaps some of you have guessed where this is going; the brandy was in a round clear bottle. It seems in his haste to escape with the free brandy, he’d picked up the first bottle he came across, namely an empty olive oil bottle. It seems glasses are now in order as well as the hearing aids! And before you ask, I didn’t have the heart to let him take an “empty” home.

Finally, I leave work

Finally, work has come to an end, and I now have time to concentrate on other things. My last shift at work was an experience, 7 o’clock came, and it was time for my staff to sign out and go home. The usual queue formed, but this time it was different. Instead of the usual ‘bye’ or ‘see you’, there was a handshake, from every one of them, all thirty. One of the ‘lads’, from whom I was expecting a ‘big handshake’, who was at the back of the queue, must have sensed that my right hand was ready for falling off, and toned it down slightly. There was even a ‘viva espania’ from one, a Polish man with little English, so that was a nice touch, it must have taken some doing, the simple things quite often mean the most. Time to leave, with my ‘co-pilot’, Greg, now being the ‘pilot’. Up to the gatehouse, to sign out, and hand in my Hi-viz vest and fob. In the car park, most of the people had gone when I started my car, but the few remaining, decided that it was polite to let me go through the gates first. This was quite amusing, as the gates are electronically operated, by means of a fob, which I had just handed in. The penny dropped after a minute or so, and someone opened the gates for me, we could have been there a while, and so off home for some much needed sleep. Working rotating shifts was never a problem really, but the last set of nights had taken it out of me. Getting up early, and trying to smile at people coming to view our house, and answer all their questions sensibly, was hard going. Renting our house out was always a ‘had to do’ part of the planning really, the rent from this one, covering the rent for the one in Spain. We are going with a ‘nice young’ couple, we understand their choice of house, they are expecting their first child, and there are good schools etc, close by. So, that seems to be coming on nicely, at least one part of the ‘master plan’ is working.

Linda finishes work on Friday, and I think she is quite nervous about it, having worked at the hospital for about twenty years. And so, on Saturday, the hard work of packing up our lives here really gets underway. I am a relatively new person on the street, only having been here about seventeen years, but Linda has lived here about thirty five years, and so leaving will be a greater wrench for her. Her children grew up here; there will be a lot of memories to pack up as well as physical things. We now have to look at the house as an income, rather than a home, not always easily done. One look outside, at the grey and wet miserable January weather, should make this a little easier. I am still amazed at the amount of things I am finding that I had ‘forgotten’ I had. Choosing those ‘essentials’ items that you just can’t live without, is getting harder, and I am having to be more mercenary as the days go by, the suitcase is not a ‘tardis’, and will not get any larger. Do I really need that ‘deckchair style’ material sleeveless shirt, which is a little snug fitting, seriously faded, but goes back nearly two decades, to the pre marriage era in my life? Never went on holiday without it, its caused a few rows when packing for jaunts to sunnier climbs, one year I actually refused to travel without it! Hmm. Maybe its just time to let go. On with the packing.

The skipman cometh

Now way round this one really. The myth of women having enough clothes to fill a lorry, and men being able to carry all their worldly possessions in two bin liners, has been blown to smithereens. With just four nights left to work, and five weeks before the big move to Alicante for five months, I am just going to have to accept a large yellow metal container is going to land on my driveway. Some things have gone to the charity shop, some things have gone in the bin, but there is still a mountain to get rid of. Despite my best attempts, the pile never gets any smaller. Unlike Spain, where you get refuse collections twice a day, we get twice a month, and so if I want it all go in the dustbin, it’ll take me till I’m ninety, if they don’t go on strike. Wow, feels loads better now, blogging is great, you can let off steam, and the only thing that gets hurt is the keyboard!

On a lighter note, the joys of skype. We got it all set up a week ago, all working fine, although our Lisa had to borrow the camera off here hubby’s x-box. The grandkids love it, but there is a drawback. Picture the scene, it’s 5:30 in the morning, your two year old has just got up, all that’s on your mind is getting breakfast sorted and a cup of tea. Then the words fall from her lips, “grandma, computer”. So I think video calling is a hit with the grandkids, us grown-ups might not be so enthusiastic!

Leaving work, and telephone trouble

Only a few days left to work now, and the nerves are starting to show. Some people still think I need my head examining. Giving up a well paid job to jump into the unknown probably doesn’t seem like the brightest thing to do. I just think that I would always regret not having tried it, the if only I had done that, which would niggle away at me for all time, and you never get any younger. My circle of friends is quite small, but I will miss them all. Keeping in touch will have to be high on my ‘to do’ list, I lost contact with a very good friend before, he emigrated to ‘Oz’, and I now don’t even have a current e-mail address. I nearly had quite an emotional moment at work the other day, but being a bloke, not the done thing. Some people on one of the shifts I manage had got me a card and a present. I’m glad I didn’t have to make a speech. The card was very nice, although not a total surprise, as Patrycja was not very subtle going round with it. With it came a book, a lot of thought went into the choice, a Spanish author, but thankfully translated into English.

Moving on, an update on Virgin Media. I can honestly say I have never struggled so much to contain myself. Linda rang up, and put it on speaker. The nice call centre person was very helpful, although the accent was a little hard to place. She was very sorry to lose such loyal customers, were we sure we wanted to terminate the service, yes, was the reply. Okay, the 21^st of next month would be great, the 21^st of January then, no, February please. By this time, I’m getting close to tears. FEB-RU-AR-RY. My wife’s’ frustration is becoming evident, ‘where is this call centre?’, ‘Manila, the Philippines Madam’. That explained the communication problem. Apparently, it takes a couple weeks after termination of service, to get a final bill, so they needed a forwarding address. ‘Would we like to use their services at our new address?’, ‘no thanks, we’re moving to Spain’. ‘If you give me your new address, I’ll just check, we may serve that area’, ‘Alicante, S-P-A-I-N!’. I am now in pain, trying to stop myself from having an ‘accident’. ‘It’s another country, we’re moving abroad!’ My face is contorting into something that would win a gurning competition, just to hold the laughter in, let alone not wetting myself. The pain is starting to subside, the nice woman on the other end of the phone, is now lacking in entertainment value, the light has come on, something has clicked, we will not be living in the UK.  I have paid good money for entertainment in the past, concert tickets, comedy clubs etc, but this came a good second, and it was free! Sorry, naturalised Yorkshire man, see all, do all, supp all, pay nowt. By the way, if anyone happens to see a bunch of lads with a white van, and hi-viz vests on, with NTL or Virgin Media plastered on them, digging cable trenches round Alicante, I am happy for them to contact me, and I will formally apologise, of course. No doubt the person ringing me, probably to inform me of impending legal action, will speak English, not learnt from watching ‘corrie’ or ‘eastenders’ for a few hours, but from spending a few years within a radius of less than a thousand miles of where their customers live!  

The day draws closer, and they'll miss us

Fights booked, house and car rented, no going back now. We have committed a fair amount of money now, and both have resigned from our jobs, the adventure begins! It's only now you realise how many loose ends there are. Cable TV, utilities, council tax, banks and the tax office all want sorting out. And I bet there will be something I've missed. So, in between working my way through half empty paint cans and assorted bits of wood kept because they might come in handy in the garage, it's time to start making those phone calls. I bet Virgin Media will offer me some absolutely amazing deal to stay with them. Can't wait to say I'd like to, do you serve the Alicante area now? Knowing their call centres, they probably think that's part of Leeds! Imagine if their call centres were off shore. Time to move on before I go off on one. D-Day. No not that one, nor the day we land in Spain. No, I mean the REAL invasion. I had been warned I'd be popular, but I had expected to have a little more time, on my own, with my wife, before the invasion started. I've been been let off a little bit, it was going to be three days, but apparently I now get a whole week! Look on the bright side, I'll have time to stock the fridge up. Not with beer, but jars of baby food for the grandchildren, they're past that, but you know what I mean. Okay, the odd beer might sneak it's way in. All this fuss about getting the phones and laptop set up for use abroad seems pointless. Instead of not seeing the kids for five days, we'll have to wait seven. At least sunday lunch will be easier, and different. Most of the grandkids will try most types of food, tapas would be great, or get a fresh roast chicken from the market, served with heaps of fresh local salady type things maybe ( never been to a market in march, they seem to grow all year round in Spain), and all eaten in the fresh air, with kids doing what they do best. Running round and having a great time, tiring themselves out, so the grown-ups can have the odd 'tinto' in the evening. Perfect.

Joining the 21st century

I have avoided many "social" developments over the years, things that everyone else seems unable to live without. Facebook being one of them. Having decided that some people in my life I would actually like to keep in touch with, I have finally given in to pressure from friends and family, and registered on Facebook. Not only that, I have set up Skype on my laptop and phone. Realising that ringing people from Spain could be quite expensive, if I do it on a regular basis. I even got it to work, very impressive. The call clarity is really good, video is a bit so so though, but good enough when a phone call just won't do. Let's hope I can find plenty of free wifi when I get there, bars offering free internet are getting a bit thin on the ground in some places. And if you are staying on an urbanisation, most people seemed to have learnt to secure their networks. Good for them, but not good for people who want to check their mail for free. You never know, I might get lucky. I will no doubt have to buy a mobile broadband dongle in Spain. As it uses the mobile phone networks, and reception is not very good most of the time, I am not looking forward to this. The house that I have rented does not have internet. Things may have changed since I last went out, but I doubt it.

House up for rent

Our house is now on the market with a letting agency, and the sign has gone up in the garden. Things are to starting to move along. Still getting rid of life's clutter, working my way through the garage. Its amazing how many half full tins of paint there are, some of the colours are more than a little 'did we really use that on the walls?'. Ian, my son-in-law, has been staking his claim on any tools I can't store, Christmas has come twice for him this year! We have both handed in our notice at work now, people treat you differently when they know you are not desperate to hang on to your job. Some people were really shocked, 'you're going to do what!'. Someone asked me if I had got a job there, to which I replied, 'oh yes, stopping a sunbed from blowing away'. That got some strange looks. The grim reality of earning a crust will wait till we get out there, we can manage for a while without an income. The first couple of weeks we will be in 'holiday' mode, then a reality check will be needed as it sinks in that we have finally made the jump. The pressure is on now to finish decorating the house, so I had better go and spend an hour or two with one of those half empty tins of paint.