Moving on....

With one daughter in China, and the other safely deposited at Bristol University, it seems as good a time as any to set off on a new adventure of our own - or not quite on our own....

Ed, our cat, is coming with us. He has been vaccinated and issued with his own passport. I have bought him a new cat gym and lots of new toys to help settle him into his new surroundings. 

I too have purchased those all-important settling in essentials for Holland - new boots, fur-lined raincoat and a heavy duty umbrella. I've been carrying out my research and I know what those Dutch winters are like. I was not fooled by our brief house-hunting trip back in August, when  the sun shone and the Dutch were out drinking beer in Haarlem's Medieval market square.

Haarlem will be our new home town and on our flying visit to view eight houses in one morning (eat your heart out Kirstie Allsop) I liked it. I liked the Dutch people we met, in fact, I liked our re-locator so much I hugged her as we said goodbye at the end of our exhausting day-trip. I have since learned from reading the 'Welcome to the Netherlands' pack she left us with that the Dutch regard their 'personal space' as very precious - apparently this is all to do with living in a very small, crowded country. I must remember  not to hug so readily in future.

Our welcome pack also reassured us that 99% of Dutch people speak English. We will be able to watch BBC1 and ITV, and English language films are not dubbed in the cinema but shown with Dutch subtitles.

In a token effort to integrate I have uploaded the Google translation app to my phone. However, it would appear this may not be necessary. After three years in Los Angeles I think living in Holland is going to be a doddle.  Inadvertently refer to an elevator as a lift and most Americans look at you as though you have just landed from Mars. The Dutch for cat is kat. I love it already.

I'm a seasoned traveller and have moved house more times than I care to remember.  Mentally I'm already in Haarlem, physically I'm stuck in the UK having spent the last three days surrounded by packing cases and reams of bubble wrap and paper.  A juggernaut full of our most treasured pieces of furniture has just departed from our quiet suburban street en route to Holland, driven by a burly Czech whose parting shot of 'what time you expect delivery in London?' has given me slight cause for concern. The sooner I get to Haarlem the better.

In the meantime I will put on my rubber gloves and clean the house from top to bottom ready for tenants to move in. We have de-camped to temporary accommodation nearby where Ed has retreated under the bed in a state of nervous anxiety, wondering where all those things familiar and dear to have him gone (me too Ed). 
 

So far we've only travelled a mile up the road - how is he going to cope when he realises there is still another 415 to go? 

Watch this space......