Finders, it’s official: I’m moving. Again. I don’t mean across town, I mean to a different country. Exactly where is not important. For now, it’s enough simply to divulge the drama of the impending déménagement—that’s French for repeatedly doing things that might lead to complete physical and mental collapse.
In case I’m misunderstood, I’m in favour of further adventure; I just want the magical version of it, where someone waves a wand or wiggles a nose and it all comes into place while I’ve been off having a full body massage.
To say this decision was not arrived at lightly would be the very definition of understatement. Rusty and I discussed and debated like never before and, like always, reached a consensus. We know how to do this by now. We celebrated 11 years together Monday past, and I was quick to point out that 132 months had passed and we’d managed to avoid killing each other, a major triumph in my view. We’ll see over the coming weeks whether I spoke too soon.
Our departure is set for the end of April, and I couldn’t type the To Do List without risking a major finger cramp. The first hurdle has been cleared: we found someone to take over our apartment, a fashionable, young Swiss couple. They were the very first people through the door, so I just know it’s a sign of how smooth this transition will be. Cue laughter from god.
We’ve moving past the grief of leaving Switzerland into the excitement about this next stage, which might find me doing something I’ve never done before, something I always said I would never do: move to a place I’ve never visited. We’d been to Semur-en-Auxois on vacation before taking the plunge; Vevey, same thing. This time, sight unseen may be the theme du jour.
If this entirely foreign place does indeed become the next stop, I will scan Google Maps and satellite images to choose my new neighbourhood. I will rent a place to live using only the internet and the eyes of a kind friend. I will rely on email and Twitter and Skype to forge connections. And, naturally, I will consume copious amounts of wine and chocolate to prevent the rapid descent into madness.
More packing, more paper working and more wracking of nerves. Anyway, it is what it is and it’s all part of the greater journey. There will be heartache, there will be frustration, there will be blood if that airline loses my luggage again. But there will also be the exhilaration of exploration and there will be joy, wherever I lay my hat.
And so, we roll, not worrying about the things that might have been. If ever there was a song to add to the soundtrack of my life, well, sing it my fine Swiss sister…