Moving in day went better than anyone could have hoped. The container arrived safe and sound, none of our stuff needed to be fumigated, the sun was shining in all its autumn glory, and the crew was incredibly friendly - though they did ask me to apologize for Nickelback once they found out I was Canadian.
It was a little touch and go as to whether we'd fit everything into the house. I swear, it really is bigger than our apartment back in Burnaby, but some stuff had to remain outside for most of the day as we opened boxes and put things away to free up space to bring more things inside. We managed to get all the boxes opened and unpacked by the end of the weekend even with taking most of Saturday off to go car shopping and take in a play.
This was the first time we've had professional movers take care of packing for us and I wasn't so sure I'd like it. I had visions of opening a box to find one of my precious cutting mats...gasp...folded! Or, find my brand new dishes smashed to pieces because they didn't bother putting paper in between each and every plate as I would have.
Yes, you might say I have control issues.
In the end, I needn't have worried...
The movers took great care to wrap everything carefully, perhaps too carefully...eight sheets of paper to wrap one box of batteries was probably overkill, but I appreciate the sentiment.
Only one piece of furniture was damaged and it happened to be the one piece we were on the fence about bringing along in the first place. No great loss.
Not knowing what was in each box before I opened it (as I would have if I'd packed, because there'd be a written inventory of each box, don't you know) didn't slow down the unpacking process as I'd expected - even though we found things like Abner's PJs sensibly packed...in the camping cooler.
My cutting mats were found safe and sound, carefully nestled flat inside a mirror pack box. No warps. No folds. You just know one of the movers' wives must be a crafter. Those guys knew what they were doing!
Of course, I may be cursing them come Christmas time when I remember why our artificial Christmas tree is a little shorter than it once was. It seems that one half didn't quite make it to Dunedin. Oh well, at least we still have the pointy top half. We'll just call it a dwarf Christmas tree.
Perhaps the bottom half of the Christmas tree is somewhere cavorting with my missing sandal? If anyone spots a black, leather sandal - a left foot sandal if we're going to be specific - and half a Christmas tree somewhere between NZ and Burnaby, do let us know. Perhaps they disembarked when the container stopped in Korea?
Anyhow, it's a relief to have the move behind us now. I'll start doing house tour posts in the coming weeks so you can see our cute little villa. For now, we're just going to enjoy feeling a bit more settled finally.