My Life in Five Boxes

This is it. The first big step in the whole moving process. I've packed up all my worldly possessions into five very ordinary looking boxes. I'm up at 7 to send them off to London ahead of me. This is becoming very real very quickly.

You Want the Bad News or the Good News?

Well, the past day has seen me get some good news and some bad news.

Firstly, the good news. One of my main worries moving over was the physical act of moving all my crap from Cork to London. It was looking like it was going to cost me at least two hundred euro. That's two hundred euro that this destitute could do without spending. Then lo and behold a solution appeared. In conversation with my uncle, my mother mentioned these problems and he very kindly offered space in a van his company has going over to London. All I need to do is buy the cardboard boxes and pack the stuff. The minor downside is that I have to do all my packing by Thursday. Still though that's the price of a TV that I've saved there.

Now for the bad news. I booked my one way flight over last week under the assumption that my siblings that are currently inter-railing would be back in Cork by the 2nd of August. My flight over is flight FR902 from Cork to Stansted at 8:10am on the 4th of August. I found out later in the week that Siobhán is not home until the afternoon of the 3rd and John not until the 4th. So I'm not going to see John until late September now at the earliest. Dose.

Speaking of family, just as I write this, we're about to start the mother of all card games here at home. 110; it's like the more familiar game of 45 on crack. It'll take at least a couple hours before we have a victor. It's more of a game of stamina than skill really. I'll let you all know how it turns out.

Quite the Character (Reference)

I suppose it's one of the things needed when you decide to let a flat to someone from a foreign land, who's never been there before and thus no traceable record you can access that character references are required. That led me to the puzzling question of who to ask to be my character referee. The person had to be a non-relative that I have known for more than three years and they suggested a previous employer or landlord. The problem here is that I tend not to keep in contact with previous employers and even at that I've never known any of my previous employers for longer than three years.

So that leaves asking one of my friends to either pretend to be a previous employer or give a really weak character reference. Another problem with this plan would be that I'm not sure if I trust most of my friends not to have a laugh and claim that I'm a serial arsonist or something like that. I could also use one of my family members and just claim they're not related to me, but then I'd need to construct some convoluted story about how this random person knows me so well.

I eventually decided to take the risk of asking a friend to do it for me; one Ross Frenett. Not only have I lived with Ross, but Ross was a supervisor in a call centre I used to work in last year. Admittedly, he actually supervised me very rarely due our different timetables, but it's the closest I can come to a previous employer who's known me more than three years. When I asked Ross if he would let his name go forward on the form; his response was positive, adding 

"You're a sexual deviant who steals things and has an unhealthy interest in fire"

I'm screwed.

So, How Does One Move?

Ever since I got the call with the job offer, the enormity of the task of moving began to hit me. Aside from the relatively simple matter of accommodation,  I'd need a new bank account, new national insurance number, new phone number, some new clothes, and I also now need a new laptop as my old HP one packed up at just a most inconvenient and expensive time. Practically everything that defines me will be new. Add to that the physical act of moving all my stuff over to London, and this adds up to be a very expensive couple of weeks for Dan.

I've my living quarters for the next year sorted (well, I'm waiting on them to email a copy of the contract and no money has changed hands yet, but there is a gentleman's agreement in place). The next thing is the actual move. This is proving more challenging than I thought, mainly due to a series of different events which are dictating when I move. I have siblings criss-crossing the continent at the moment who will not be back until the second of August, and my parents are leaving on their holidays on the fourth. The parents want to be there when I leave, and I would like to see John and Siobhán again before I go; which essentially forces me to leave on the third or the morning of the fourth. I'll leave on the fourth then to give me a full day with my whole family.

Of course, there should be some going away party or something for me to say good bye to my so called friends. This is complicated by the tickets I bought for a rugby match in Dublin on the 31st of July. Add into the mix my large non-Cork based group of friends and my girlfriend stuck in Tralee, and you can see that it's going to be a rather hectic last few days.

At some point in the middle of that I need to send my luggage to London too. This is a task of which I am crying out for help, as DHL and FedEx seem to be quite expensive. Any advice anyone may have is more than welcome.

Anyone feel like driving me to London?

Anyone?

Please?

In Search of a Land of Milk and Honey

At long last, I find myself on the cusp of breaking out of my rut and starting a new life in London. Well, using the word 'new' is a little much seeing as half of Cork seem to have moved over there already. With this new leaf being turned, It thought a new blog chronicling my experiences as an emigrant would be the easiest way for me to update all those left behind on the Emerald Isle once I leave. It'll also help me remember the best of my stories for retelling in years to come.

Right now, I'm a bundle of mixed emotions over the whole leaving the family and friends behind, coupled with the excitement of a new job, a new flat and a new city. There's very little time to be getting sentimental though; I've only two weeks to organise all my crap, and I've a LOT of crap to sort out without evening mentioning the words 'Going Away Party'.