You would think that for the event I had been waiting my whole life for, save the birth of my daughter, that I would be bounding out of bed, ready to go! Truth was I wanted to sleep. For days. I was exhausted. Getting ready to travel the world indefinitely was tiring and that’s putting it mildly. Seriously if there was a snooze button, I wanted to hit it continuously.
But I could not. I had to get up. There was a ton to do before we hit the road.
Our final inspection on our rental for one. Oh, and packing the car.
Yep, we were due to leave in 3 hours and the car was yet to be packed. So there I was at 6am, loading the car in my nightie. My boobs, completely unencombered, jiggling this way and that, as I loaded the car. I’m sure I was giving John, our neighbour, a very entertaining show!
One thing Rich and I tend to do is leave the other alone if they are designated to pack the car. We’re too controllling for our our good, so it’s better for our sanity – and our marriage – if we just leave the other alone. I don’t do as well as he does with this, but for this adventure, I was on loading duty. It was something I had been over – and over and over and over – in my mind for months now.
So, I loaded, then unloaded the car, juggling to fit this and that, while Rich just kept bringing more stuff to me. We had so much to fit into our Ford Kuga, stuff we would supposedly need for 10 months on the road. I was getting frustrated. “Just pile it all here and I’ll load it all at once!” I thought. At this rate, it would take a miracle to get it all in.
By 9.30 we were done. We went to the local cafe, bought a coffee and a muffin bided our time, waiting for the property manager to arrive at 10am for our final inspection.
Now let me say that never in my life would I ever hire a cleaner for a move out. In the time I’ve vacated a property I’ve had property managers ask me if the place had been professionally cleaned.
“Nope. That’s all me”, I’d say. It’s how I roll.
But Ray White, our property managers, had worded their exit list so succinctly that we had no choice. Three hundred and twenty dollars later – in cash – we had a cleaner who was booked in after our final inspection to clean the property.
Honestly, it sounded like a scam to me. Like the cleaner and Ray White have concocted a deal happening between them and the renter gets screwed over in the process.
10.15am arrived and the property manager finally shows, asks us if we have keys, takes a cursory look around, tells us casually that he can’t do the final inspection until Monday after the property is cleaned. He quickly adds that it should be no problem and he will be in touch.
I’m sorry, what?! Then what the flock are we doing today?!
Talk about an anti-climax!!
By 10.20am we were on the road, but with no idea whether we were getting our bond back and if so, when. We also weren’t told when we’d be reimbursed for the overpayment still owing.
So, off we went, holding Ray White in good faith – ha ha – and leaving what we had called The Treehouse. With it’s falling down fence, a beam that was about to collapse and with it, no doubt, damage to the pool Rich had worked so hard to maintain.
But, it was no longer our issue. We just had to make sure we stayed on top of them.
Driving out of sunny Westleigh, still a little shell shocked, my sister calls.
“Don’t leave!”, she cried. “I’m on my way!”
I had no idea what was going on, but I asked Rich to pull over as she came flying down the road in the opposite direction. As she gets out of her car, she’s crying. She tells me that one of her friends from work had died. It was a traumatic moment, sad because this friend had a long-standing illness, but with us leaving, it was all very confronting. What if something happened to us and she hadn’t said a real goodbye? That was my impession of the urgency anyway.
After a chat roadside and hugs all around, we were back on the road, hitting the jam packed Pennant Hills Road, (which I won’t miss – at all!) and heading south to Canberra.
We were finally done with Sydney.