If you recall, we left for Ireland in a hurry after the movers from the UK left our boxes at Brian's school. They couldn't bring them to our apartment because the people who were supposed to handle the parking permit never showed up and the truck was big enough to carry our whole house.
We got back to Germany Thursday evening and stayed in Hamburg with our friends Tom (Dizzy) and Sonja. Tom had already agreed to come back to Hannover to help us move the boxes, and we were planning to borrow the school's van to get them to our place.
On Friday morning we called Philippa, our lovely school secretary. She's the one who had arranged for the parking permit and had confirmed and double checked that it was all set. Apparently she was not so lovely with the company that was supposed to set up the permit. She made them admit that they messed up (she used a stronger word) and made them agree to move all of our belongings from the school up to our apartment for free. Tom decided to come along anyway, in case the movers needed supervision.
So on Saturday morning we watched game 7 of the world series and waited for the movers, who were late, of course. When they did arrive, ironically they didn't have permit and double parked right in front of our building. The first guy walked upstairs carrying a globe and was already out of breath by the time he reached our door. I am sure that the guys who had to move our stuff are really hating whoever dropped the ball on our parking permit. They did manage, with some sweat and heavy breathing, to get everything upstairs while we happily unpacked. Our stuff was all there, and undamaged aside from a few minor chips and cracks.
We spent the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday basically moving into our apartment again.It sounds silly, but pulling out my pie pans and jackets and shoes made me feel like this place is more like home. It was better than Christmas really, because we didn't get anything new - we got back the things we'd been missing. Our apartment is big enough for everything, but there are no closets in Germany so we need to find somewhere to put it all. Maybe we can figure out how to do that without going to Ikea...
So now, after I do some mopping and hang pictures, I need to call the shipping company in the UK and try to get a refund of the extra money that we paid them to bring the stuff up to the fourth floor. And then we get to write a nasty letter to Beltmann Relocation telling them what a disaster the whole experience has been. And then I can sit on our nice leather chair and enjoy my bowls and scarves and blankets.
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