Some Good News

In London we get excellent news. Fil has been offered not one, but both jobs. Though obviously ecstatic he feels terrible having to turn one offer down. Fortunate to be in an uncomfortable situation you could say. The one close to Winchester has to win out. Ten minutes to and from work is a dream come true.

We also hear from the real estate about the vacant house. The landlord  would be very pleased to have us (probably would be pleased with anyone but vagrants or squirrels), we just need to do the paperwork and pay the rent. Having rented in Sydney I know that the rules in the UK differ somewhat. Because Fil has yet to begin work and indeed hasn't signed a contract, no one is interested in anything but rent in advance- a minimum of 6 months. We agreed to this.Murphys law stated that we meet people soon after who told us we could have offered only three and they probably would have taken it. We also learnt that rent prices are negotiable. What can I say- we were ignorant and desperate to get in a place, and they saw us coming.

But still, it's good news sorely needed- it appeared we will have a house and a job.

After a few days at my brother’s , we head over to Fil’s sisters place near Reading to spend a few nights there. The plan is that we hire a people-mover to drive down south because we have four very large and heavy suitcases plus an assortment of smaller bags.  But,  for the life of us we cannot hire a large car. Either there are none available or they want us to have a UK address.

 We had  no problems with the London car mob, but here it seems an insurmountable problem. This is because we aren't tourists - we have no return tickets to Australia and we aren't residents as we have nothing yet with a UK address- this apparently equals high risk suspect .

 Even a passport, driver’s license (which we can get a job, rent a house and open a bank account with) and vouch from a UK citizen are no good.

In the end Fil’s sister and her husband very generously  offer to drive the suitcases down once we were moved in. This means we can go with a car company who does not want to hassle us but has only small cars. 

 We take a day out before we're due to leave to visit Legoland. Fil and I  presumed there would be a lot of Lego exhibits (which the boys love) and a few rides, but it is really the other way around. To be honest it really is for younger children on the whole (under 8 great) but we have fun and there are some great Lego exhibits. It’s almost worth the entry just to see the absolutely enormous area of Lilliputian sized Lego cities.

With about four days until we can move into our new house we head down to Southampton where our late booking and school hols land us a nice ground floor room with views of a roof , police headquarters and absolutely no air-conditioning -which on 30 degree days is a good way of losing kilos in the night- which is probably helpful.

Whinge aside we get plenty achieved during our stay-  furniture from Ikea (4 people with 6 laden trolleys is NO fun no matter how tasty the Swedish meatballs) and from a second-hand charity in Winchester. Some but not all will arrive in time for moving in. We also touch base with the Winchester bank who have forgotten to order our pin numbers (do NOT get me started on bank problems we have had- nightmare).

We also visit my grandmother whose health is rapidly deteriorating. It's really hard to talk about anything but the illness. To be positive in such obviously diffucult circumstances. My grandmother is loosing a lot of weight and before we leave she points out her thin legs and say- "The next time you see me I'll have disappeared altogether." This comment rings over and over in my mind.

We decide to have a day at a nice beach with the weather being so warm and us needing a bit of stress respite. So one hot hazy morning we head off to the Isle of Wight. Well, not straight away as we get on the wrong ferry and visit lovely Hythe first. Then we do take the right ferry and arrive at Cowes on the north of the Isle.

 A series of buses takes us overland to the south-eastern town of Sandown. All of the buses are  exciting because riding a double decker at speed up and down one lane roads is a commute and amusement park ride rolled in one.

 Though an island, the Isle of Wight is absolutely enormous. It looks quite modest on a map- a tiny chip off the old block- but travelling over it are hours and miles of beautiful farmland and villages, smelling deliciously of fresh cut grass.

Now, I cannot judge a typical English seaside town as yet, but if I had to guess, I’d say Sandown looks very much like one. It has a long sweep of beach- this one sand- with a pier pointing out to sea in the middle, complete with carnival amusements. Chalky cliffs stand tall and hazy to the north. Houses and hotels about the place have a feeling as being rather pleased with their location. The shops sell buckets and spades and ice-cream and postcards, and on the beach you can hire deck chairs, which we do.

The English Channel is cold in summer- we guess about 17 degrees, but even so Fil, Flynn and Alexander get a tick in the box for going in for a swim. I get to safely record this from the safe warm shore. We’re keeping a record of all the seas, rivers, oceans and lakes swum in whilst we are over here. I don't know why, but it's working fine for me.

The Isle of Wight is a lovely day out, happily spent.

Tired and sunburnt back at the hotel, we find Fil has missed an email which reads-

We forgot to ask what language Flynn would like to learn in regards to offering him a place at the school.

“Wow, that’s great!” I say to Fil- “Is that the school near the house?”

No,  it's the first school.