So I got all moved in to our new flat this weekend. It’s in a cool part of town, near parks and cafes and all kinds of other European stuff (and above a Chinese restaurant). And, while it’s a really great flat, it’s also really far from where my company put us up for the first month of living in Poland.
In an effort to begin the moving process early and thinking we’d avoid all moving stress (failed at that), Ry and I decided to move the 7X7 rug we bought from IKEA*, a full, black duffle bag so large that my corpse could fit comfortably in, and copious amounts of bedding in our first trip. Now, with a car this might not be that difficult but without one, it adds a level of challenge akin to Frogger in Bangkok and extreme weight lifting combined into one fun adventure. Though we received strange looks on tram #1 and probably looked like we were legitimately homeless, we successfully navigated to our transfer point.
Getting on to tram #2, we unfortunately took the wrong one and wound up somewhere in Poland. I blame Google (such confusion is becoming commonplace). At this point, we’d been lugging the rug, a very large amount of bedding, and the body in the duffle for well over an hour. We looked rather dumb trying to cram a rug on the tram and eventually got yelled at by an angsty Polish tram driver for thinking it was okay to bring all this stuff on public transport. Well in to hour 2, with the assistance of a nice, old Polish man to get our stuff off tram #3, we made it to our flat.
The next morning, deciding we were too American to move all our things via public transport, we loaded our remaining items into a minivan taxi. Little did we know but Doc from Back to the Future was our taxi driver. In all likelihood, this gentleman probably resided in the back of said van. We felt very (un)safe in his capable hands as we weaved through Friday morning rush hour traffic in downtown Warsaw. Arriving at our flat, we began to unload our entire lives.
About halfway through moving our belongings, Ry noticed that there was a great deal of vomit on the ground outside our flat and became concerned that the stress of moving was getting to me (but we started early and the tram solution was so easy that the entire process wasn’t stressful, right?). Alas, it wasn’t mine but rather some Poles’ from the night before. Don’t worry Ma and Pa, it’s a great part of town, I promise.
And now, we’re all moved in to our new flat and living with our roomie, Audrey. I’m sure some of you recognize her but, for those of you who might not have met her yet because she’s a larger-than-life (read 3X8ft) photo on our wall, I’ve added her pic below. I know, she’s pretty photogenic.
Things I’ve learned from moving all my stuff – I’m a hoarder and I shouldn’t be allowed on public transport. We also have no microwave, sadly.
*Note: The rug and the rest of our IKEA haul from the previous weekend was effortlessly transported to the hotel in the trunk / backseat / passenger seat / center console of an Uber driver’s compact KIA hatchback.