The Joys of Moving House.

The contrast between our peaceful sojourn in Burlington and our return to Doha, has once again been highlighted by the chaos that engulfs when moving house ex-pat style.

After three days of back and forth from hotel to villa, we are finally in our new abode. Six suitcases used twice over, brimful with all our current worldly possessions, have been unpacked. Our goods take up far less space than is available to us and have pretty much disappeared from view, swallowed up in the cavern of five bedroom, five bathrooms, and the ballroom space that constitutes the kitchen, living, family, and dining room downstairs.

We bid a sad goodbye to the Ramada Plaza and its wonderful team of staff who had lavished attention on us for four months and spent our first night in the villa on July 3. Three days later, I am beginning to wonder at the wisdom of our decision to become independent.

There is great advantage to being the first inhabitants of a new home – not having to deal with the previous tenants “leftovers” (whatever those might be), brand new furniture, and no maintenance or repair issues. The dark side of this equation is that you start off with a list of builder deficiencies. We have had the plumber come round three times: the drain pipes are blocked with building debris, and the kitchen sink pipes were never tightened or glued properly, hence creating deluges of water and flooded floors on three occasions in three separate areas so far. Lamps that don’t work, a pool light switch swinging in the breeze, and no light fixture in the laundry became tasks for the electrician. The carpenter, yet to see him, will have to put door handles on a bathroom door and fix various other items. I now have everyone’s cell numbers on a list strategically placed on the fridge, with Alex the supervisor on speed dial on my cell (I am sure he sighs every time he sees who is calling).

The new furniture is tasteful and well-placed, the decor is modern and co-ordinated. Unfortunately, you need to be a stoic or a Spartan to enjoy a good night’s sleep - the mattress is as hard as a rock. Be careful when you sit down as you might just bruise yourself, or bounce right up and out again. Rising in the morning is a groaning affair. We are currently combing the local stores looking for a new mattress – our best bet is that we will get one only two or three weeks from now as they have to be ordered and flown in.

The cherry on the top was a driver (I can’t help but comment on driving it seems) who decided to practice parking in front of our villa and instead of driving away from the house, punched a hole two feet by three feet into our outside wall. Of course, he/she chose a spot directly aimed at the water pipes. We came home to find the toilet in the hallway, and the water pipe spouting a fountain into the pond that was the bedroom downstairs. We have had two days of repairs so far, with the water to the entire house switched off during working hours. I am hoping that they re-attach the toilet tomorrow and I can finally bid goodbye to the dozen or so workers traipsing cement and dust into my new home.

The very worst of our move: no internet and no chance of internet for at least a week, if not two weeks. I don’t know if I can stand it – I may just have to scurry back to the hotel and beg for an hour’s connection. Alternatively, if you are seeing this, I have found an internet cafe – yahoo!