Moving on

It's always hard to move houses; this will be the eighth time in five years and it never seems to get any easier. First comes the packing and the sorting, getting rid of the things that you want to keep but know you're never likely to use again, finding things that you've thought lost and realising that the last time you saw your prized DVD was two removal vans ago…

This time things have been made even more complicated: I have to be out of this property by midday tomorrow. I was supposed to move into the new property last Wednesday. How can that be complicated? I should have loads of time to get everything done. So what's happened to cause trouble? In one word: snow.

In a few more words, snow and conflicting plans. I was supposed to collect the keys for the new property last Wednesday; I'd arranged it that way so that I would have plenty of time to pack everything carefully, move things down bit by bit and still have time to spare when cleaning the old property before I left. That went out the window when the new landlord forgot to leave the contract and keys with the agency. This was compounded by some general confusion; I spoke to the agency on Wednesday and they weren't sure what was happening – the person dealing with the property I'm supposed to move into had the day off and nobody else knew the details. I was told that if I phoned back the following day it would all be sorted – so I did… and it wasn't. That's when I first discovered that the keys weren't there yet but that they would be on Friday instead. Not too bad, it would only be too days later than first planned; I'd still have a week to move my belongings, I could manage with that.

Friday came… and so did the snow. Almost a foot of it – that's almost 31cm for you metric types. In some countries that won't cause too much of a problem. In Britain, chaos. Trains stopped, buses stopped, major roads were closed and people abandoned their cars left, right and center. I never stood a chance at getting to the letting agency's office. Saturday had snow too, but this time I was prepared. A book signing event had been scheduled for Swansea – about 40 miles from my home – and since I had to travel anyway, I resolved to swing past the agency's office on the way there. Were they open? No.

Sunday they were closed too – and we had more snow. The same was true on Monday, although I did manage to get in touch with them by phone. They understood the situation and that I was moving ever closer to the point where I would be left with my belongings on the street and no keys so they gave me the phone number for the owner of the new property. He lives 12 miles from the new property – but he was completely blocked in by the snow and couldn't travel anywhere. We came to a compromise; if he wasn't able to drive by today he would hire a vehicle that could get around on the snow and use that to get the keys to me.

So here we are, Thursday, just one day before I need to be out of my flat, typing a blog post in the room that I've lived in for just over the past year and wondering why it's so difficult to say goodbye to the place. Maybe it's because it's the longest I've spent in one place since I first left home; maybe it's because this town has been so instrumental in my early adulthood; perhaps it's just that the act of moving is such a scary thing. I like this flat, it's been my home; I know it well and I have a lot of happy memories here. Will I be so satisfied in a new place? Only time will tell, either way, it's too late to turn back now. Once again, I'm moving on…