As I may have mentioned before, I have no size, volume or spatial awareness, so frankly a 40 foot container could be only as long as my Volvo, or it could be as long as Terminal 3; but whichever way I look at it, surely our belongings should fit into it as the costs being quoted are eye-watering.
For consolation I’ve taken to reading endless threads on Expatwoman that are related to relocation. I’ve been hugely distressed to discover that many people arrive and leave Dubai using a 20 foot container. My mental maths is reasonably sharp so I’m confident that those containers are a mere half the size of the one we ‘don’t fit into’.
Something is surely not right.
Fuelled by my growing panic, I rapidly took photographs of every large item in our house and uploaded them to Dubizzle (a sort of local Ebay).
A week went by filled by time wasters and lunatics.
Time Waster 1: “Do the sofas come in any other colour?”
Me: “No, for a range of colours, you need to try IKEA.”
Time Waster 2: “What do you keep in your teak wood chest?”
Me: “I’m not sure that is any of your business.”
Time Waster 3: “Can you keep things other than shoes on the shoe rack?”
Me: “You can keep dead bodies on it for all I care, just come and take it away.”
Then two nights ago, the furniture angel arrived. Admittedly, he didn’t look very angelic, but he had cash, a team of willing packers, and a desire to clear my house of pretty much every seat I own.
He took the 6 seater L shape sofa from the playroom, 2, 3 seater sofas from the lounge, and even the giant teak coffee table.
Now this is all fabulous from a ‘maybe now we’ll fit in the container’ perspective, but as the blonde rightly pointed out, “mummy, we have nothing to sit on”.
Big brother, always eager to help out, advised that we were pretending to be “in the olden days before sofas were invented”.
So, 16th century living with twinsmummy this week… can’t beat it.