Tough times for a hoarder

In the past, I've been known to collect all sorts of old junk. But at times like this, there's an understandable ban on collecting more stuff - the more we have, the more it costs to ship it.

There are a few things that remain on the 'acceptable' list however, including luggage.

Which is fantastic, as tonight walking home from work, I stumbled upon this beautiful old Durolite Air Travel suitcase. One thing I'll miss about Sydney is the generosity of it's residents who oh so often place perfectly good vintage wares outside their houses for passers by to re-use. Indeed, with it's working locks, and clean interior, the proportions of the Durolite will ensure its place right at the bottom of the stack of other luggage we own, and will form the perfect vessel for transporting all the clutter from my desk to Felixstowe docks.

How to find your own olive farm

I've had so many people ask me how we managed to find what appears to be Utopia - a beautiful olive farm in the Umbrian hills, rent free in exchange for some simple light duties. Well, it's just a case of knowing where to look.

We signed up to a site called MindMyHouse.com, which costs $20 up front, in return for introductions to people with properties who need various kinds of help. Some people need help because they have huge gardens, some people simply want to go on holiday and don't have anyone to look after their goldfish. Some people, like Angelika - our home owner, have olive farms, and are looking for help with looking after the land. It works rather like a dating agency - you upload some photos of yourself, along with some words - what interests you, what you can offer 'the relationship' and so on.

On a daily basis, we receive emails from any properties that meet our criteria. There's a brief overview of the property, what the duties involve, and dates required. If it sounds of interest, you simply email the owner directly to open the dialogue.

Likewise, 'owners' get a similar list emailed to them of people looking to 'sit'. If an ad sounds of interest, they too can contact sitters directly.

This is one we received today...

With daily emails coming to your inbox automatically, dreaming of living in a French Chateaux, or a lighthouse in the Outer Hebrides isn't quite so unattainable as it seems.

The desk from heaven

I’ve finally cleared my desk at work - a task I’ve been avoiding for obvious reasons. There were a fine array of useful items, including:

12 Sketchbooks

Vintage pencil sharpener

Telescopic fork

28 Unused pencils

Vintage enamel ‘Red Head Matches’ sign

Twinkle’s old laptop casing, covered in 497 stickers

Tin of Butter Cookies (full)

5 Vintage car badges

Toaster recycled as a desk tidy

3 Vintage postcards

3 Green plastic soldiers

9 Books, 4 Unread magazines

Pair of 1971 coconut shell headphones

Diamond encrusted handbag hook

2 Remote controlled helicopters

London Underground Oyster Card, framed with RIP inscription

Small painting of a jar of Marmite

6 Original photographs

Water pistol

Badge reading ‘Hello, Very Busy, Very Important’

Sign reading ‘Guest Instructor’

Knight in shining armour (plastic)

Kangaroo, Osterich and Kiwi (plastic)

A Harajuku Hello Kitty

Small wooden oven containing wooden fish

Vintage desk calendar

Miniature camera

3 Ultraman monsters

3 Pinky Street figurines

5 Kinder Egg toys

Vast array of Lucky Dip vinyl toys

Tin of Mock Duck

Philips head screwdriver

Novelty USB humping dog

£1.25

25c (Australian)

Diamond encrusted ‘S’

Fimo poo (hand made)

1 hour parking road sign

Large plastic fish

Giant marmite jar

Cup Noodle (made by me in Osaka)

Cup Noodle clockwork puzzle

Hand made chef bear

Hand made pair of rollerskating stockings

Kewpie doll wearing no pants

Novelty erasers

Nestle Milky Bar Kid badge, and 8 other assorted badges

Japanese throwing star

Detailed map of Tokyo (in Japanese)

Bear, with biro disguised as bears tail

Pack of Flash floor clearer - circa 1970

2 Explicit language rubber stamps

Clockwork car

Minny toy with bowler hat, brief case, Samurai sword and carrot

London Bus drinks coaster

Eiffel Tower model, with Union Jack attached with cocktail stick

640 page, 2 inch Webster’s English dictionary

I sat at work today, wondering how on earth to concentrate with so much blandness looking back at me. The glare began to hurt my eyes by around 3pm...

Before:

After:

Decisions Decisions...

Whilst sorting our shoes out today, I was surprised to learn that despite Twinkle believing I have way more shoes than her, in fact, the statistics here speak for themselves.

But, which pair should I take for the initial three months? Red, Brown, Brown 2, Black, Black 2, Grey or Picnic Blanket Tartan Converse?

Vehicle Top Trumps

One of the hardest decisions we’re trying to make before landing in Europe is what vehicle to buy to get us to Italy. We will be driving it from probably Devon in the south of England to Caligiana in Umbria, a distance of around 1350 miles (2180kms), through France, Belgium, Germany and Austria before getting to our final destination in the hills of Italy. We could spend a little money, and arrive via only France and Switzerland, but toll free is not only better for the bank balance, but also for the excitement of the journey. I hear Switzerland is a bit drab in January!

So, the wheels. A simple set of rules, by which to adhere.

Budget: Less than £3500.

Size: Enough to carry us, x3 Suitcases, the Urbo, Toys, Travel Cot, High Chair, Bedding, Picnic box, Art Materials, Laptop and 3 pairs of Wellies.

Visual Appearence: We shouldn't look like the Griswold Family en route to Wally World...

Current shortlist includes:

Car: 2003 FIAT MULTIPLA 1.9L DIESEL ESTATE

Details: 6 seats, 125000 miles, Power Steering, E windows, 2 owners

Price: £1395

Coolfactor: 7/10

The Bad: The worlds ugliest car

Trumpcard: 3 seats in the front for maximum payload

Car: 1999 MERCEDES-BENZ C CLASS 2.3L C240 Esprit Auto Estate

Details: Petrol, 124000 Miles, Full Service History. Cruise Control, MOT Oct 12

Price: £995

Coolfactor: 11/10

The Bad: Thief magnet

Trumpcard: 30 year standard corrosion guarantee

Car: 2002 FORD TRANSIT TORNEO 2.0L TURBO DIESEL

Details: 9 seat minibus, 149000 Miles, ABS, Air Con, CD, 1 owner

Price: £2,295

Coolfactor: 5/10

The Bad: Multi-storey carparks are off limits

Trumpcard: The Backbone of Britain

Car: 1997 VOLVO 960 3L CD AUTO ESTATE

Details: 24V, ABS, Air Con, Climate Control, Electric Heated Seats, Power windows

Price: £1000

Coolfactor: 2/10

The Bad: Ian Beale drives one

Trumpcard: Enough room in the boot for a small country

Car: 1998 Peugeot 406 2.0L GLX FAMILY MANUAL ESTATE (My dads car)

Details: MOT and Tax Nov 12, Roof Rails, Airbags, Power steering, E Windows

Price: Possibly less than £300

Coolfactor: 5/10

The Bad: It comes with free emotional baggage.

Trumpcard: Keep it in the family, we know it’s history

Car: 1982 ROLL ROYCE SILVER SPIRIT AUTO + PRIVATE PLATE

Details: 99000 Miles, Leather Upholstery, Power Steering, Ultimate ride, 3 owners

Price: £3295

Coolfactor: 9/10

The Bad: Insurance group 20

Trumpcard: Guaranteed never to break down

The chair has gone...

Today was a sad day - I said goodbye to my Eames chair. We loaded it into the lift, and sent it to the 1st floor of our building, where it's new owners will be Karla, Scott and Marshall. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did guys!

We also sold Rhett's chest of draws and bookcase today... the downsizing has begun!

The desk from hell

I have to clear my desk at work at some point, but it's a job I'm trying to avoid. Along with two helicopters and a toaster desk tidy, there are many books, several pairs of headphones, packaging from all over the world of various vintage, toys galore, a stolen road sign, many car badges, a beautiful desk mounted pencil sharpener from the 1950s, and hundreds of pencils. In fact, thats a bit of an understatement - our receptionist somehow managed to over-order 3000 yellow pencils with rubbers many moons ago, and for some reason, they became stored under my desk. But I guess they're technically not mine, so I'll leave those as a little love gift for someone before I go. Yes, the receptionist was fired!

Betty From Blacktown

On Sunday, we went to Blacktown! Wow, we've been to Blacktown, although sadly we never met Betty! We loaded the company car with a whole gamut of un-wanted or un-needed household items on Saturday night, and awoke at 5.15am to head to Blacktown and had the expected row en-route over the map. Finally, we arrived at 7am to find an endless line of vehicles packed with crap for the local bogans to pick through, and only through cue jumping did we gain the advice (from the man who directed the line of cars) to book online using our 'smartphone' (as he insisted on calling it several times) to get in straight away. We did, and quickly we were renting our twin tables, and under attack from Boganvillia's finest bargain hunters - We were surrounded by eager beavers handing us $5 notes for our wares before we'd even set up a quarter of our toot! It settled down a little but by 9am, much had already gone and our glorious stall was looking rather sparse. We joked with each other to knock it out quicker, like pros selling frost damaged carrots at Romford Market. We continued for another few hours, and by 1 o'clock, thick black clouds started to roll in. We decided to call it a day, with just a few items left, before the heavens opened, ruining many people's day, and much of the stuff they left out in exchange for dry trousers. I guess Blacktowns unsuspecting punters will be fighting for flood-damaged laptops, TVs and microwaves next week, but I can't imagine we will ever go back. Betty, I'm sorry we missed you.

Result - $220 profit for stuff that would normally have gone to the charity shop!

23kg Each

Yesterday, Twinkle booked our tickets home. The first $2500 of our budget swallowed in one fail swoop! We have to work out what we still have left to sell what we are shipping (which takes 3 months to arrive in Europe) and what we have to squeeze into our 3 indestructible suitcases. With just 23kg each, we have to choose very carefully, as we'll have to last 12 weeks with just this stuff until the ship docks in Felixstowe. Rhett's 23kg includes his pram...

UPDATE

Rhett only gets 10kg. But that doesn't include his pram, so he gets around 19kg total...

Questions, Questions, Questions

The top 10 questions I've been asked about our next experience:

1: What the hell are you doing?

Erm, not sure. It seems like I'm packing the family up, and shipping them to the other side of the world (again), to live on an olive farm in the middle of nowhere, in the winter.

2: Do you speak Italian?

No, not a word of it. Well, obviously I know words like 'ciao' and 'bellisimo', but I'm going to struggle to order a coffee. But hey, I've managed to order a coffee in both China and Japan, so I think we'll be ok. We can learn!

3: What made you decide to do this?

It started when I saw a lecture by Stefan Sagmeister called The Power Of Time Off. Every 7 years he closes his design agency down, and takes a break for a year to recharge his creative batteries. Then 6 months ago, Twinkle asked me what I wanted for my 40th birthday. I said I wanted to spend much more quality time with the family, and wanted us both to be given the space and time to carry out our own creative projects. That, with a sprinkling of 'because life is too short' led us to try and find a way of making it financially work

4: How can you afford it?

Firstly, savings. We have been harvesting cash for months now. We very quickly built a spreadsheet with financial projections and various scenarios to estimate how long our money would last if I resigned my post at work, inputting as much detail as possible to capture everything. Rent was always the killer, and realised if we could remove rent from the equation, maybe we could pull this off. We discovered a website that effectively works exactly like a dating agency - you write a profile about yourself (or in our case, the whole family), and upload it for others to see - the 'others' being people looking for 'sitters' for their various properties all over the world. In exchange for free rent, we must work for 2 hours each per day, strimming the garden, carrying out general maintenance and walking the dog and the rest of the time is ours to spend as we please. Hours are basically flexible, so we can work an entire day if we choose to stockpile time which we can exchange for time away.

5: Can I come and stay?

Yes! Our new home is apparently VERY large! We really have no idea where it is, how to get there, or what we'll find if we ever find it. So Lord only knows how you'll visit us. But yes, so long as we know and like you, you can come and visit us.

6: Won't you miss Australia?

Totally. It's going to be massive shock to the system moving back to Europe, especially in the winter, in a rural location, and where the language isn't English. We'll miss the cafe culture, the weather, our friends, our apartment, our general life and many other aspects of Oz. This place is truly wonderful, with its crazy wildlife, and relaxed, family friendly atmosphere, and we question our own judgement on a daily basis. In all the time we've been here, we've only had one almost violent run-in with a rude drunken tosser - in London it happened all the time. It feels safe here, Twinkle and Rhett can walk home in the dark without fear of being attacked.

But it's not all sun, sea and sand here. To stay here, I'm either locked to a single employer (I'm currently on a 457 visa), and unable to work for others in any capacity, or I have to apply for permanent residency, which financially isn't attractive for us.

But we've never intended staying here permanently. Sadly, we've always been the proverbial Whinging Poms, complaining about everything from the heat to the price of bananas. It's harsh for us here - isolated and far away from what we've been used to. Will we regret leaving? Yes, very probably, but we have to go to find that out. Maybe we'll forever be Whinging Pommy Bastards, ping-ponging back and forth, spending what little savings we have on airfares and never being content.

7: When?

We fly to London on January 10th. Some time after the 15th, we'll be en route to Italy, loaded into either a van or a large car, equipped with a GPS to avoid d-i-v-o-r-c-e (as Dolly once sang). We theoretically arrive in Umbria about two days later, although there's no telling if that will in fact be the case. It could take weeks!

8: What if it all goes wrong?

C'est la vie. We of course have a contingency plan.

9: You know the Euro is about to collapse don't you?

Yes.

10: Do you like olives?

No.

Relocation!

We're on the move again! We've decided to relocate back to Europe and take a breather. Rhettstar and the pressures of work have left little time to be creative, so we've decided to run for the hills - literally. The rolling hills of Umbria, Italy, and in this very house in fact! Our decision to move on has been on the cards since the day we arrived in Australia, so I don't think anyone is surprised at all, but the fact that we're moving back to the other side of the world without a job arranged, without a true home, and without much stuff is a little worrying!

Unless anything goes terribly wrong, we're moving to an olive farm in the middle of the country, and are headlong into wrapping up our life here. Everything we own has to be either shipped or sold, and given the fact that we won't be living in a mansion, much is going under the hammer to the highest bidders. It's been a wonderfully cleansing experience, although I'll be honest, the thought of our ridiculously large dining table and the Eames chair not coming with us does make me a tad sad.

So, this blog will serve as my diary of events. We have no idea what to expect, or what can (and probably will) go wrong. It's been a challenging few months to get this off the ground, but we've committed, and there's no going back now! The roller-coaster ride to Italy (or wherever we end up) has begun!