Our life in boxes

Next week we have been in Spain for 3 months – a quarter of a year. Somehow it feels much longer, as though our life in Vancouver happened decades back. Maybe it is because we moved to a part of the world where I was brought up and where we both have family. Or maybe it is because we have had so many new experiences, making every day feel like a week, every week like a month and every month like a year.

Our boxes arrived on Monday, surprisingly soon and even more surprisingly, intact after 6 weeks at sea. Of course the semi-trailer that brought them did not fit down our narrow dead-end street, so we had to get a local moving company to transfer the boxes to another smaller truck. Señor López and his helper are used to maneuvering Ronda’s incredibly narrow cobblestoned callesitas and moving stuff out of and into even more narrow intestinal houses. We now have 56 boxes stored in the basement, filled with books, our carpets and family stuff we could not part with. Otherwise we still have not a stick of furniture or a single plate to our name.

The boxes will likely remain unopened until we move into a more permanent dwelling, as we want to felt the lightness of ‘possession-free’ living for a while longer…

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