Do you know the piano's on my foot?

What a busy couple of days – not for me, of course, as I am beginning to get the impression that my contribution to events is purely aesthetic, but definitely for Stephen and for various workers associated with establishing our British enclave in the heart of Le Marche.

The key news is that our furniture and our entire worldly goods have been delivered safe and sound to the house. The only slight drawback is that it’s all encased in boxes or wrapped in packing in the garage and downstairs future summer loft living rather than sitting cosily on the first floor of La Casa dei Due Baffi - but its presence gives hope that we are within striking distance of moving in.

The process began early this morning as the two wonderful removal men, Karl and Wayne from Conisbrough, Rotherham, whose unmistakeable South Yorkshire accent that could scour metal took me back to my childhood, arrived earlier than expected last evening. They parked their articulated double wagon lorry outside the factory, after realising they had missed the turning and executed a ‘three’-point turn out of a MSP side street (how?). Stephen took the men to the pub (where else) and treated them to a couple of beers before returning them to their lorry where, apparently, they snuggled up with the last of their pot noodles and whatever DVD they had not yet watched.

So it was that at somewhere around 8am today, the factory transit van was reversed up to the back of the removal lorry and the process of first transferring furniture and boxes from one to the other began. The van then headed down to the house where it was unloaded ready to be driven back and replenished. Dutifully following Stephen’s instructions, I turned up at nine o’clock ready to give whatever assistance was required – which, as it turned out, was none. You can imagine how gutted I was as you know how much I relish anything manual, but I think Stephen was enjoying himself too much playing the Yorkie man and didn’t want me to spoil his fun.

The whole operation went remarkably smoothly and all was safely stored away by early mid-afternoon. Wayne did comment, thought, that he had never handled so many clothes before and the amount of shoes made it seem like he was moving a centipede.

In the evening we took them to the The McIntosh (again) but this time bought them a well-deserved meal and introduced them to olive ascolana, it being a welcome change from their usual kettle cuisine. They are setting off for home early in the morning so we ate early – which was just as well as The McIntosh was playing host to one of those sporadic men only dinners involving enough pasta for the 500, lots of red meat and recycled plastic bottles filled with home made wine. Again, you can imagine how gutted I was as you know how much I relish Iron John bonding.

Oh and if having all our furniture is not cause enough for celebration, all the tiling has been finished in the house as well. Get in! (That’s me being macho.)