The manic move that never happened.

A while ago I lamented about the joys of living in my old home. I had half expected to write all about the moving but in the end it was so stress free (yes I really mean it) that I just forgot about living in the cave – this is what I now refer to the old place as, a cave. Always worth a look though here are a few pictures of our very stress free move:

Somehow the entire contents of our apartment only barely managed to fit in the truck.

Anyway, the nice gentleman with the big mop of hair and the tough-as-nails ajumma in the picture above, and a very serious looking man not pictured, made life a lot easier as we managed to chill out in the car and drink coffee while they did the hard work. Money well spent. This is around the seventh time we have moved – including moving country four times in two years – and it is something we don’t enjoy, regardless of how used to it we are.

On a more positive note….

You might remember the view from the living room window of the old place we lived in. To save you having to reminisce here is that inspiring view again:

I like to look at this picture a little to regularly these days. It helps me appreciate the new view:

I’m wondering now what the hurricanes are like up on the twentieth floor?

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