Day 1: Leaving the flat 31.8.2010

Day 1: Leaving the flat in Jersey 31.8.2010



I can't explain how I felt about packing up our belongings for storage and embarking on our journey. I felt a mix of excitement, anxiety, nervousness, sadness, elation, all of which culminated into a severe case of nausea.



27 boxes, a set of golf clubs, Henry the hoover, a bed and a bookcase were our worldly possessions. It took 3 men, 45 minutes to move our stuff from Flat 309, Maison de la Mer into a van to move to storage. I guess all my books, clothes, CD's and odds and ends are all in a crate sitting in the darkness, beginning the process of dust gathering. My material life has gone into hibernation while I am going on an adventure with Kobus Venter, that's my husband!



I thought I would feel severe sentiments towards leaving the flat that Kobus and I had started our married life in. I expected the usual clichés like, "remember when we moved in and had to sit and sleep on a blow up mattress for 6 weeks because we had no furniture, remember Kobus, when you burnt the lino in the kitchen with the pot that went on fire on the stove, remember when you puked on the bedroom floor on your stag night, remember all the great times we had with friends in this flat, the laughter, the joy, the tears! To be honest, the only thing I thought to myself was, "I wonder how many times we had sex in the sitting room?" I don't really buy into sentimentality. I think it's a material emotion. All my friends are in my heart when they are not with me; all my memories are in my head. And with the advent of Facebook and email, no-one is ever far away. It's getting difficult to be lonely in the twenty first century.



Kobus bought me this little laptop to record our trip. It is the schizzle macnizzle! It beats writing with a pen, although, I don't think I am allowed to admit that because artists like to appear to be luddites, protecting themselves from twenty first century advances in technology by using typewriters and pens and paper. I also like pen and paper but it won't be very practical to write while sitting on a bus on a bumpy road. Also, notepads are heavy when you have a copious amount of them! Anyway, yes, so we got this laptop, which I named Travlietop. This is, officially, the beginning of my attempts to become a writer. I have promised to write every day. I don't have to write coherently. Just get some words down. I can edit later.



Oh yes, back to leaving the flat! The storage men took our stuff, and then we went into town to get some breakfast. Realised we were bored hanging around, so we decided to go to the airport at 1pm, even though our flight is at 5.30pm! Our reasoning was that we had feck all to sit on in the flat; at least there are chairs at the airport. I had a romantic notion the other day, when Kobus suggested we catch a taxi to the airport, "No Kobus, we will walk to the bus-stop and get the bus to the airport! We are global travellers now so we have to travel on the cheap!". So rucksacks on our backs, we started the 8 minute walk to the bus-stop. Holy Hell! My shoulders are chaffing and my back is sore from the feckin' bag! Fuck it! I'm getting a wheelie case in London! I took pictures of the damn rucksacks before we left the house. No-one has to know we are softies who can't handle back strain!



Kobus threw a bitch fit this morning because he couldn't get his jeans into the shitty rucksacks! Fuckin' hell! If he's like this for five months, I hope he goes mute! Only joking! He's nearly mute anyway, the fecker only talks when absolutely necessary. Which is great really because I like doing the talking, even if it's to myself! ;o) In order to get the Big Man's clothes into his bag, we rolled up all his clothes nice and small. I told him to do this last week but, like most men, he dragged his arse and didn't get around to it. When we got all his belongings into the bag, he said, "Wifey, what would I do without you!". This is one if the joys of being married to Kobus, the simple things make him happy, and the associated compliment boosts my self-esteem. It's a win-win situation when your husband has limited dexterity!



I said goodbye to my friends in two ways, the old fashioned way of getting drunk in a pub or calling round for a cup of tea and a biccie. And the new fashioned way, in cyber space. The old fashioned way is still my favourite. Our leaving drinks were in the Up and Down Bar on King Street. My work colleagues came with me, which is always unusual as work colleagues are usually people that you have to make yourself like, as in real life, you wouldn't go near the freaks! Although, my work lot are alright. We also had some friends turn up so that diluted the madness. Kobus decided that a shot on the karaoke machine was in order as it was his last weekend in Jersey. His rendition of the Queen classic, "I want to break free" was unbelievable. He really made it his own. What an entertainer! He managed to change every note in the whole song! I was proud of him though! I love when he makes a fool of himself. Typical big, muscly, mad South African!



Saying goodbye via facebook is grand. There are no feelings involved, no sadness, no tears, just drivel typing and counting how many messages people sent back to my "What's on your mind? post. It went like this: "Bye Jersey. Flight leaves at 5.30pm. Will miss ye all in Jersey. xxx". Replies varied from the standard "good bye my lovelies" to "good luck" to "Loren, are you off on your hols?"



The goodbyes over a cup of tea are the best. A biccie and a cupán tae! And a chat about random shite. Definitely my favourite way of spending time with buddies. Quick hug and a kiss, followed by statement of fact that one will keep in contact via facebook, which I will, and out the door before the sentimentality starts. That's not good for anybody! My friends know I love them. They don't need to see my upset. I’m Irish for God’s sakes!