Friday, September 17, 2010

Moving day on the north side


We got to the farm an hour ahead of its scheduled 9am arrival, which turned out to be a completely wasted effort. A little after 9.15, a small three ton truck bearing some guys from a local moving company turned up to unload the container coming from Fos-sur-mer, the port at Marseilles. Four of us stood at the front of the farmhouse staring out to the main road like sailors’ widows gazing out to sea.

After an hour of calling the local shipping agent, we finally learnt that they’d rescheduled the delivery for 2pm and hadn’t bothered to notify me as customer, or the movers who had a two-hour round trip from their depot. The agents had already failed to impress with less than stellar communication over the preceding weeks and had slapped me with a last minute €333 charge for a few days storage.

Deviation Condom

Seeing no point in hanging around for a further four hours we agreed to reconvene at 2, and I took Munson into Vic-Fezensac, our closest neighbouring town. It was market day and we dropped ourselves at an outdoor cafe table to watch the passing parade. Munson delighted everyone by whoring himself out on his back, rolling around before the cafe door for whoever would rub his belly or tickle his ears. 

Condom has long had a  large British contingent, and this has spread south to centres like Vic and Éauze. There’s a well-known market stall catering to the appetites of the English (tinned pies anyone?) and I could even pick out some Australian accents at cafe tables.

Mattress fail

The container truck rolled into the farm after 2, and we managed to get the whole thing unloaded in less than 90 minutes. Getting the piano down was the most difficult task, but the smaller truck was backed up to it and slid down a ramp, after which it could be lower on a hydraulic ramp. I ripped open the crate and removed enough wrapping to test the basic piano mechanism. It seems OK for now but rather muffled with all the remaining packaging.

Munson was quite miffed about being tied up beside the action all day, but given the malamute propensity for standing in front of people carrying things I thought it the wiser course. I sliced open the wrapping of a bookcases I’d stuffed with some of his things and laid out his mattress to cheer him up. Somewhere in the ten weeks since it was all packed up, Munson lost the knack of lying on it properly.


Lindy, Munson, Peter

The day ended with a small dinner party at Peter’s in Condom out of which Munson did rather well from leftovers.

1 comment:

  1. it all looks so lovely. your new home. munson's MATTRESS :p that he can't sleep on properly! your blog is really making my humans rethink about how to travel with dogs : )

    if only i could learn to behave as well as munson, i'm sure they'd take me on more holidays too. *sigh*.