Long version: The movers arrived on Friday earlier than anticipated, while Eliott, Andrew, Jackie, and Jackie's friend Lea were finishing off our take-out Chinese food on the table that needed to be loaded into the truck. The loading went off without a hitch. My mom spent the majority of the time questioning the manager about his moving practices in order to ensure herself that he wasn't just going to run away with my stuff. The manager took this in stride and he, his driver, and his helper moved my stuff efficiently without complaint and were quite friendly. I got to see Andrew and Steph, whom I hadn't seen a lot of lately.
After we got all that out of the way. Eliott and I headed to Caitlin's for her end-of-semester/undergrad party. I saw Nida whom I hadn't seen in forever. I will unfortunately not be seeing Caitlin until at least next March when she returns from Zanzibar. She says she will be chronicling her adventures there in her own blog. When she does, I will be putting up a link to that on the right. Eliott and I were unable to stay very long since we decided that we needed to leave Montreal by 4 AM in order to get to London by 1 PM.
In fact, we left at 4 AM after I had my sad parting from Bucky and got to London by 11:30 AM. Yeen Ten, the owner of the house whose basement apartment I will be renting and the post-doc of the lab I will be joining was not there, so we went for lunch at a cute Lebanese place, reminiscent of Al Taib. At 1:30 PM, I called Yeen Ten to discover that she left a note for me with the location of the key. The manager of the moving company I hired told me that the earliest the truck would be there would be at 2 PM. So, Eliott and I sat on the floor of the apartment until about 5 PM when we pulled out a movie and watched it on my laptop.
So where was my truck? Sometime during Spiderman 2, I got in contact with the manager who told me that the truck got stuck behind some heavy traffic in Cornwall and was only reaching Toronto now. He told me that the truck driver wanted to come the next day early in the morning. I complained to him that if he didn't come tonight, I would be left with no bed to sleep in since everything I owned was on that truck. He told me that it might be possible for the truck to come later that night around 11 PM, and that he would call me back.
Eliott and I then went on a wacky adventure to find food. After following misheard directions to get to an Italian bakery, walking down a main road for a long time, walking back to the car, and driving to both Eastside Mario's and Montana's to be told that there would be a 25 minute wait, we got take-out at a Caribbean restaurant Yeen Ten recommended and ate on the floor in my hallway.
After we ate, I tried calling the manager again, and I couldn't reach him. Eventually I got a phone call from the driver of the truck. Apparently he did get stuck in traffic and was only in Toronto now. His helper's wife was in the process of delivering a baby, so he had lost his helper. If I wanted him to come tonight, he would be there after driving for 18 hours, moving other people's things, and by himself with no help in the dark. He said he would give me the $30-40 to stay in a motel if I would let him come on the Sunday at 8 AM. I agreed because I would rather that he did it with help and not in the dark. He would probably also be in a very bad mood. I had a sleeping bag and pillows, and we borrowed a second sleeping bag from Yeen Ten to sleep on the floor.
At 8 AM, he called me and told me he'd be there by 10 AM instead. I was fine with that since at least he called me. I wish someone had called me the day before, so that Eliott and I could have done something interesting with one of our last full day together before I leave for the summer rather than sit on the cold floor all day waiting for my stuff to arrive. Eliott and I took a drive around downtown London and Western to pass the time.
The truck was there by 9:45 AM. These were different people from those who loaded the truck. From the beginning, the driver wouldn't stop complaining. He wasn't told that I would be moving into a basement, so he kept moaning about how he doesn't move basements and he told me that I shouldn't move into a basement. He said he would come back to move me into a real apartment in one month's time. My stuff was big and too heavy. He insisted that he couldn't get my box spring, my couch, or my table into the basement. The couch, in the end, he had very little trouble with. The helper saw that the stand could be unscrewed from the table, and then that went in no problem. They tried twice briefly to get the box spring in to no avail. In the end, they drove away leaving my box spring in the driveway.
I was so angry. I was sure that if he tried other possibilities, it could get in. He wouldn't even give me my $40 for spending the night on the floor. He said he would give me a discount to move me from London to Toronto. Finally he agreed to give me $20 but told me to never call him again. Unfortunately I never got his name or the name of his company, as I believe he was hired by the company I had originally called to do it. I certainly would never call him again if I could help it. I think the helper felt really bad. He was actually quiet and nice when he did speak.
It took me 10 seconds to figure out a possible way to get the box spring in, and Eliott and I did it ourselves with minimal damage to the ceiling of the apartment. At least all my stuff arrived there safely. Eliott unfortunately had to stay a bit longer to help me with a few things before we very sadly parted ways and I was all alone in London, my new home, which I will be leaving tomorrow.
Brief first impressions: London seems to be a very nice place. It reminds me a lot of the suburbs of Toronto. Because everything is in English, I feel like I'm in an entirely different country like the U.S. Every second business has a horrible black sign with fluorescent yellow, pink, and orange letters advertising anything new. I think I'm going to miss the multiculturalism of Montreal. They have foreign restaurants here but they appear on the outside to be cheap American imitations with stereotypical names décor. Maybe I'll eat at several of these places and find out that the food is actually quite good. All the people I've met here are very nice, and I think I'll enjoy it here. It is also really nice to have a place of my own. Today, the other new grad students and I got everything prepared for us to drive the vehicles, and we packed up the cars. We and Yeen Ten went for all-you-can-eat sushi for lunch. It was good, but I've had better in Montreal. It was called Wonder Sushi.
Next: I am meeting the other students, Crisia and Nikhil, tomorrow to drive off to Alberta. We are cutting through the States. It should take about three days. You will probably hear from me next weekend. If I have time before I leave tomorrow, I will try to upload some pictures of the apartment. I don't promise anything since I have to do it from the school, and there is a very limited time window.
2 comments:
Whoa, that's a totally insane moving story... was the guy's assistant's wife having a baby or delivering someone else's? That's so screwed up... at least you have your stuff :P
The wife was having a baby. I was told it was a boy.
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