Caliban - Opinion and Righteous Anger

We arrived in Zürich early Tuesday morning, slightly the worse for wear. Our first class compartment on the train was nice, but Sarah confiscated my pillow (plus an extra one given to her by the conductor) for use in her bunk, where she needs the support for breastfeeding Eloïse during the night.

That caused me to have quite a restless night, whereas Sarah experienced a similarly restless night, thanks to Wiesje's incessant feeding antics. Still, it was fun to travel so far by train, watching The Netherlands whizz by, then one major German city after another. By the time the Swiss border was passed, we were all long sound asleep.

Roman met us at the Hauptbahnhof and we headed back together to his place on the number 46 bus, where Carine and Elina were waiting to welcome us.

Since then, we've been taking it very easy by our travelling standards. The first day, all we really did was go for a walk around the Rütihof neighbourhood. It's very quiet around here; we saw only one car driving down the road during our walk.

In the evening, we headed into town for Google Zürich's Christmas party. There were quite a few familiar faces there, including people I didn't know had moved from the US, and I observed how nice it felt to be back in the Google fold, if only for a few hours. The food was excellent, none of your funny finger food from the Mountain View parties of years gone by, with the dessert and coffee especially deserving of high praise. The girls were at the end of their rope by that point, however, so we left straight after dessert.

Yesterday, we took the bus into town and visited Google's Zürich office. It was a very quiet and unassuming affair, compared with the Mountain View premises, but the same is true of any of the remote offices, of course. Nothing compares to the Mountain View office in terms of sheer size, the armosphere of the place and the unbelievable number of facilities available. If I weren't so happy to be back home in Amsterdam and looking forward to the future there, I might be faced with having to consider Zürich as a possibility. In the end, I don't think we would decide to live here, but we're lucky that we don't even have to consider it. We've pondered enough hugely life-altering experiences for one year, I think.

After lunch at a rather good Chinese restaurant, Carine took us on a long walk around the city, including the old area, with its many interwoven Gassen lending the city an air of historic charm. At the end of the day, Carine had to pick up Elina from the crèche, but Wiesje was still sleeping deeply after a mostly sleep-deprived day, so we decided to keep walking around the city on our own until she woke up. After about another hour, however, she still hadn't woken up, so we boarded the bus and rode home. Even that didn't wake her, however, and she didn't awake until we were in the lift up to Roman and Carine's flat.

Today, we took our time getting out of the flat and then headed into town on the bus, where we caught the train to the top of the Uetliberg, where we had lunch and spent some time walking around, admiring the slightly foggy view.

In the evening, Carine made fondue and Roman came home with a Dutch colleague of his from the office, accompanied by his wife and their two extremely blond children. They moved to Switzerland half a year ago, so it was interesting to talk to them about their experience of living here, sending their children to a Swiss-German crèche, etc.

Tomorrow, we're taking the train up to Bern, where we'll spend the day looking around. Then it's over to Fribourg (or Freiburg, if you're on the German-speaking side), where we'll spend a couple of nights before returning to Zürich on Sunday to catch our train back to Amsterdam in the evening. Carine is from Fribourg, so we're going to see where she grew up and soak up the ambience of a different region.

We've only scratched the surface of this country thus far, but I like what I've seen up to this point. From the mulled Glühwein to the rather tasteful Christmas markets, this part of the country has a decided German feel. I'm curious to find out how the French-speaking area compares.

We arrived back from Switzerland Monday morning at about 10:15, half an hour or so behind the train's schedule. I realised we'd be late when the conductor woke us for breakfast at around 08:00, as I checked my mobile phone and saw that it was roaming on a German network. Sure enough, we stopped in Emmerich soon afterwards: no way we'd get from there to Amsterdam in one hour and forty minutes.

Our first trip to Switzerland was a great success. After a few days in Zürich, we took the train to Bern and then on to Fribourg, where we witnessed Saint-Nicolas (or Samiklaus in German) ride into town on a donkey, then ascend the steps of the cathedral to its balcony, where he gave the assembled masses an entertaining speech about globalism, capitalism, fame-seeking and other hot topics. I didn't catch all of it, as my French is shite, but I got something out of it.

We stayed in Fribourg for a couple of days, having lunch with Roman, Carine and her parents in a suburb of the city on the last day.

On the way back to Zürich in the car with Roman, we passed through the pretty town of Solothurn, stopping at a wonderful non-smoking café for a welcome cup of hot chocolate.

Back in Zürich, we had a bite to eat with Roman and then took the bus into town to catch the train.

The train was a lot of fun, I have to say. Being served breakfast and decent hot coffee in your own compartment first thing in the morning is a very pleasant treat to which to allow oneself to succumb. The only downside is trying to avoid baring one's arse at precisely the moment the train happens to pull into a packed station.

It's somehow very relaxing to sit in a chair in the dim light of a cold, northern European winter morning and watch the world outside slowly perk up as an invisible sun rises into the sky. The only other night train I'd ever been on was the train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai in Thailand. That trip made a big impression on me, too.

I look forward to using the international train again next year, although I'm not sure where we'll go next.

It's nice to live in a country that actually gives some of the money it collects in taxes back to the population, rather than blowing it all on military aggression. On the other hand, they certainly do know how to collect their pound of flesh here; dear oh dear.

Let's look at cars, for example, where it all starts with the purchase. Not only does one have to contend with BTW (Belasting Toegevoegde Waarde), the Dutch VAT, at 19%; but there's also BPM (Belasting op Personenauto’s en Motorrijwielen), the tax on passenger vechicles and motorbikes. That clocks in at a staggering 45.2%. There are slightly different formulas for petrol and diesel engines, but what it amounts to is that between 56.5% and 65.8% of the price is tax. If one compares car prices here with those of the same models in the US, one almost faints from the shock.

Then we have motorrijtuigenbelasting, motor vehicle tax. The amount you pay depends on where you live, whether you have a diesel, petrol or LPG vehicle, and the weight of the vehicle (SUV owners beware!). Noord-Holland is the province with the lowest tax (don't ask me why), but reckon on €700+ per year for a 1750 kg vehicle.

And the petrol? Thanks to the combination of excise and BTW, 67.2% of the price per litre at the pump goes to the government; and this country has the highest petrol prices in all of Europe. If you have a diesel car, that's 56.9%. LPG vehicle owners escape with a measly 28.1% tax obligation.

Even the damn car insurance premium is taxed with assurantiebelasting, insurance tax at 7%.

Man, paying for that new Audi A6 in January is going to be fun.

And what about our new house? Well, it's not new, which is to say that somebody already owns it. That means we have to pay overdrachtsbelasting, transfer tax, at 6%. If it were newly built, it would be even worse, as we'd have to pay BTW at 19%.

Then, of course, we have property tax or onroerende-zaakbelasting, as it's known here. This differs by city, but is broken down into two parts: an owner's part and a user's part. The owner is simply the owner of the property, the user the person who lives there. If the owner and the user are the same person, that person is responsible for paying both parts. The existence of a user's part may have led you to conclude that property tax is also paid here by people who rent property, as well as people who own it. This is correct.

In Amsterdam, the formula for the owner's part is €1.44 per €2268 of property value. The user's part is €1.15 per €2268 of property value. For the purposes of this formula, the property value is not the purchase price. Rather, it is the Waardering Onroerende Zaken (WOZ) value of the property, which is a value assigned to it by a local council assessment, which takes place every few years. This is generally lower than the actual purchase price of the property.

Ignoring the minor yearly fees for sewage and water management, we're left with the eigenwoningforfait, literally the 'own home forfeiture'. This is a tax on woongenot or -- wait for it -- living enjoyment. That's right, the Dutch government taxes you, based on the assumption that you will derive pleasure from living in property that you own.

For property with a value greater than €75,000, the amount calculated is 0.6% of the WOZ value of the property, with a maximum of €8500. However, this is not the amount of actual tax you pay. Rather, that amount is considered to be extra income, so it's added to your annual income and consequently taxed as such, so you pay according to whichever income tax bracket you happen to fall into.

They say there are only two things you can be sure of in this life. Firstly, you will pay taxes. Secondly, you will die. Tja...

I haven't done more than scratch the surface, of course. Vermogensrendementsheffing (asset tax), income tax and a host of others are enough to make your toes curl.

The fact that the government here levies taxes hardly makes it unique, but it does levy a lot of them in comparison with other countries. In spite of this, I'm happy to be back, as I feel that the money is more constructively and wisely spent than in many other places; certainly than in the US, my erstwhile abode.

Sarah and I made a conscious choice to come and live in The Netherlands. The most obvious other option would have been to stay where we were. Or would it?

Thinking about it today, I'm compelled to consider that we really had very little choice at all. Eloïse 's birth alone would have forced us to leave the US, since she would not be able to receive the type of upbringing she needs and deserves whilst part of American society.

Besides that, things were reaching a natural conclusion in Mountain View.

I had been at Google for four years. All of the people I knew socially and considered my friends were my colleagues from work. One by one, they started to cash in their stock and leave the company to enjoy the good life. Before long, Google was starting to feel less and less like the Google I'd known over the past few years. It was also growing like wildfire, increasing my sense of estrangement.

A catalyst in that estrangement was the birth of Eloïse and the ensuing paternity leave. After seven weeks at home, I already felt like I'd left Google and had adopted a new lifestyle.

That new lifestyle was an odd fit. I was no longer working, but Eloïse did not fill the void in the same way. Fatherhood was wondeful, of course, but routine was lost and intellectual fulfillment was at a low ebb. I realised that this was not a lifestyle that could be maintained indefinitely; not by me, anyway.

My friends who had left Google started to travel, play golf, hang out on the sets of TV shows; whatever. I began to see less and less of them. It started to feel as if our established lifestyle was fragmenting, crumbling away, piece by piece.

With all of our friends based around work and now off doing their own thing, there was little social life outside of the work sphere. Thanks to the absence of the same people from Google, plus the changing face of the company and my own department, my sense of belonging at work was also evaporating before me.

It was all ending. I could see it happening. It was natural and inevitable. Google was entering a new phase in its history and my friends -- all of them normal, down to earth people -- were now rich and adjusting to their new lifestyles (with impressive ease in some cases!).

Sarah and I were still living in rented accommodation, with very little of our own furniture and few possessions beyond gadgetry, CDs, books and clothes. The only way forward would be to buy a house and rebel against the natural unrooting process that we had found ourselves now subject to.

Happily for us, it all felt so right that everything was drawing to a close. The transition felt like a force of nature, like summer passing into autumn, like an old and fulfilled man's life coming to an end. This was natural, something to embrace and accept, not resist. Eloïse was a tangible figurehead of this sensation, heralding a new phase of life for all of us, shepherding out the old and ushering in the new.

It was all quite poetic, really. We had to leave; our new baby necessitated it. But there was nothing to stay for, anyway. The sands had shifted and the set of circumstances that had nurtured a life in Silicon Valley for many years, affording us a superficially convincing sense of establishment and security, were now dissolving, leaving only a vacuum. Nature abhors a vacuum, so we naturally enacted our long-harboured plan to commence the next phase of our life.

And now we're here, a country, a continent -- no, a world -- away from where we were. Small wonder that I sometimes feel myself suffering from feelings of disjointment and detachment. From Mountain View to Amsterdam. From working to retirement. From carefree life to fatherhood. It's often hard to pinpoint which detail or complex permutation of details is conspiring to provoke feelings that are nebulous and hard to comprehend.

Too much change within too short a period of time. Are those the boundaries of my own ability to change and adapt coming into view? Can the old dog no longer learn new tricks?

Life's an amazing thing. Just when you get used to one particular chapter of your life, the tectonic plates of destiny grind together, raising mountains and gouging gorges, and you awake to a new and unfamiliar landscape. And you adapt, because life neglected to provide any other option.

This time in 1999 -- just six years ago -- I'd just met a girl called Sarah, who I thought was very nice. I allowed my imagination to run riot and constructed castles in the sky, picturing what could be if logistics and hard physics were not factors in our lives.

Long live the romantic heart, with its ability to overpower the intellect and plunge one headlong -- before one is able to rationally throw a spanner between the spokes -- into a personal revolution. Thanks to an all-consuming belief in the nobility and poetry of romance, I now find myself married, father to a daughter, retired and wondering what the hell is coming next.

At the end of this week, we receive the keys to our new house: another new beginning. What's in store for 2006? I think it will be more tranquil than this year. I think we will continue to travel around Europe, but not do too much else. We might need all of 2006 just to get used to all of the events of 2005; there were that many of them.

We're all master of our destiny; after a fashion, anyway. It's easy to exert influence over your own life; it's just not always possible to predict the dramatic consequences that will result from a seemingly tiny action.

Apparently, Americans and Britons use different muscles when they smile. This fact can be used to fairly reliably determine a person's nationality.

Godverdomme! Ik ben erin gestonken; erin geluisd, beter gezegd.

Het is een fenomeen van de laatste jaren, blijkbaar. Kom ik terug uit de VS na zo'n 5,5 jaar en wat beheerst anno 2005 mijn beeldscherm? Juist, de belspellen. RTL4, SBS6, Veronica... overal kom je die troep weer tegen. Goedkope zendtijd is het gewoon. Een niet-bewegende camera, een woordenspel dat geraden moet worden, een telefoon- en SMS-nummer onder aan het scherm, en een of andere snol die doet alsof er nog helemaal niemand het juiste antwoord geraden heeft.

Dat doen alsof neemt doorgaans de vorm van een even overdreven als talentloze acteerprestatie die zelfs het niveau van de overdaagse soapseries niet haalt. Echt zoiets van "Nou, dit hebben we hier in de studio nog nooit meegemaakt, mensen. Niemand weet het gewoon. Misschien komt dat wel door het tijdstip. Ja, het zou kunnen. Het is wel zondagochtend, hoor. Er zijn een hoop mensen naar de kerk of die nog lekker aan het uitslapen zijn, maar jij gelukkig niet. Jij zit gewoon televisie te kijken en jij weet misschien het antwoord. Weet je het dan eigenlijk wel? Bel dan toch gewoon! Ja, want er staat wel €2000 op het spel. Twee duizend euro, mensen. Gegarandeerd, hoor! Dat is me toch wat. €2000, zeg! Stel je voor wat je daar allemaal mee kan doen. En dan net voor de Kerst ook nog. Dat is toch helemaal te gek? Dit geld staat vandaag nog op jouw rekening. Het enige wat je hoeft te doen is bellen. Kom op, zeg! Ik snap het niet, hoor. Zouden we het te moeilijk hebben gemaakt? O, wat erg. Het programma zit er eigenlijk al bijna op, maar dit geld moet gewoon vandaag nog vergeven worden. Dat hebben we gegarandeerd. Mensen, ik hoor het net van mijn regisseur: we gaan net zo lang door, totdat we een winnaar hebben. Dus bel maar!"

Tja, je raakt al gauw geïrriteerd door dit soort flauwe onzin. Binnen een paar minuten gaat die irritatie echter over in regelrechte walging voor de onsmakelijke manier waarop men de kijker tot bellen of SMS'en aanzet. 80 cent per ontvangen bericht of een dergelijk bedrag per minuut als je ouderwets de hoorn gebruikt.

Maar er klopt iets niet, hè? Het raadsel is veel te simpel. Hoe kan het toch nou zijn dat er helemaal niemand het al geraden heeft? En dat zouden ze toch ook niet willen, zou je denken, want dan zouden ze met hun televisieprogramma nog minder dan één euro verdienen voor dat ene winnende telefoontje of SMS'je.

Tot gisteren ging ik ervan uit dat ze gewoon verzwegen dat er al iemand gebeld had met het juiste antwoord. Smerig dus, maar gisteren zei de wel zeer irritante belspeldel op de buis uitdrukkelijk dat er nog helemaal geen juist antwoord was binnengekomen. En, ja hoor, toen ontstond dus ook bij mij de verleiding...

Zou er toevallig echt nog niemand dat woord hebben gezien? Het was toch niet zo moeilijk? Maar het was inderdaad zondagochtend; zou er dan werelijk toch bijna niemand naar kijken? Misschien niet, want wie gaat er nou voor zijn plezier naar zoiets kijken? Je komt die bagger eigenlijk alleen maar al zappend tegen en dan weet je gewoon niet hoe snel je verder moet. Maar op de een of andere manier was ik dus blijven hangen. Zou ik dan daarin een van de weinigen zijn?

Tja, voor 80 cent €2500 binnenhalen; ook ik vind dat leuk, natuurlijk. Dan maar bellen met het juiste antwoord. Geen zin in een live gesprek met die verschrikkelijke trut op de televisie, maar vooruit dan maar. We gaan ervoor. Hier met die poen!

Niet dus.

Wat blijkt? De opgenomen stem aan de telefoon vertelt doodleuk dat ik de negende beller ben en er wordt telkens alleen antwoord aangenomen van elke tiende beller.

Godgloeinde! Dat zetten ze mooi niet tussen de kleine lettertjes onder aan het scherm! Hoe durven ze het? Je wordt uitgenodigd om te bellen als je het juiste antwoord weet, je weet het antwoord dan ook gewoon, jou wordt verteld dat die €2500 gewoon van jou is, want er is verder niemand anders die het antwoord weet... Tja, iedereen heeft zijn grenzen, ik dus ook, en dan ga je dus bellen. Als het er toch voor het oprapen ligt, waarom dan niet?

Puur fraude dus. Al zoekende op internet kom ik verrassend genoeg geen verhalen tegen van mensen die zich hierdoor gedupeerd voelen. Zou ik dan de enige zijn? Van hoeveel mensen peuteren ze op deze oneerlijke manier 80 cent los? Hoeveel mensen krijgen hierdoor de verkeerde smaak te pakken en gaan dan keer op keer bellen in de hoop een keertje op een meervoud van tien uit te komen? Tja, als er al eerlijk wordt verteld welk nummer je nou eigenlijk bent. Wedden dat je ook wel honderd keer kan bellen om steeds maar te horen dat je een bellernummer tussen de 1 en de 9 hebt? Ik had geen zin om erachter te komen en zodoende nog kwader te worden.

Ik ben erin gestonken. Ik neem het vooral mezelf kwalijk dat ik ben bezweken, door de knieën gegaan voor zoiets stoms. Nu behoor ik tot in de eeuwigheid tot die groep mensen die zichzelf ingeluisde onnozele sukkels mogen noemen. Tja. Ik dus. Ben ik soms nog niet cynisch genoeg? Balen, man.

Anderzijds vind ik dit zoals gezegd puur fraude, want je kan gewoon niet weten dat jouw antwoord hooguit 10% kans maakt om geaccepteerd te worden. Dat zeggen ze er mooi niet bij en men doet alsof er gewoon niet gebeld wordt, alsof niemand het weet en alsof jij gewoon slimmer bent dan al die andere kijkers.

Nee, mensen; ik heb voor mezelf eens te meer bewezen dat ik net zo ongelooflijk dom ben als al die andere sukkels die iets voor niets denken te kunnen bemachtigen.

The moment is almost upon us. Tomorrow morning, we get the keys to the new house.

When we finally reached agreement with the seller over the price, it seemed like an awfully long time until we would be able to take possession of the property. Now, though, it feels as if the moment has come around very quickly. It's been two months in all.

The essential things have already been taken care of. Home, property and liability insurance have all been arranged, which means I'll sleep more soundly tomorrow. Our bed will also arrive tomorrow afternoon, even though we still have no duvet to go on top of it.

The alarm system already present in the new house will also be reactivated tomorrow afternoon, even though there won't be much to steal for the first few days.

The bank transferred the remaining 90% of the purchase price to the notary's account today. Er, that's something I'm not going to think about too deeply.

Lots of things will be happening next week, too.

On Monday, a cleaning company is coming to give the place a good once over.

On Tuesday, the movers will be reuniting us with the stuff we haven't seen since 10th August on the other side of the world. We'll also be taking receipt of a new washing-machine and dryer. At that point the house will become a little more livable.

Sarah flies with Eloïse to the US for Christmas on Wednesday, leaving me to take care of whatever strikes me as worth doing to the house in her absence. I head out to the US myself on the 31st for twelve days. By that time, I hope to have the telephone, ADSL and cable TV sorted.

Since the contract on our rental house runs until the end of January 2006, we've decided not to do the move all in one go tomorrow. Rather, we'll move stuff over there a piece at a time until it's all done. It shouldn't take more than a few runs with the bakfiets or the Greenwheels car. Given that we'll have hardly anything at the new house until our stuff is delivered next week, I imagine that tonight won't be the last night we find ourselves sleeping in the old house.

Tomorrow, though, stuff or no stuff, we'll be sleeping there as a gesture, to welcome ourselves to our new home, the first either of us has ever owned. For all we know, we may well spend the next thirty years of our life there, so we have great expectations on the eve of our new acquisition. Our children will grow up there, we hope to make many new friends there, and this new house will be the place we call home for a very long time to come; perhaps even for the rest of our lives.

Stirring stuff!

At the official weigh-in on Tuesday, Eloïse registered 7810 g. She's 67 cm long. That puts her at the 50th percentile for both weight and length. Her head circumference, however, is 45.2 cm, which puts her in a much higher percentile: 75-80%.

It's official: she's a big head!

I'm knackered. I slept badly last night and awoke this morning, feeling quite under the weather. Of all the days to get a cold, the flu or whatever it is. Bloody typical!

The days are short here now, so we arose in the pitch black and prepared to bike over to the new house for the run-through. The heavens opened while I was sipping the smoothie that Sarah had made, boding ill for our plan to use the bikes. By the time we were ready to go, however, the rain had stopped, so off we went.

When we arrived, our estate agent was waiting for us at the door. The run-through went pretty much as expected. The current owner had kindly put together a pile of manuals for the kitchen appliances, thermostat, alarm, etc. That will make our life much easier as we get to grips with the new technology.

After the run-through, we drove over to the notary's office with our estate-agent. The signing of the leveringsakte (deed of delivery) didn't take anywhere near as long as the signing of the contract of sale. We were finished with everything in little more than half an hour, I'd say.

After the customary congratulations and handshakes, we were away. We had entered as renters, but were now officially home owners. Our estate agent dropped us back at the old house, where Sarah took Wiesje upstairs for a nap.

Around noon, we walked over to the new house through the Vondelpark and put the key in the door of our new home for the very first time. Sarah did the honours.

We didn't have to wait long for our new bed to turn up. The two guys who assembled everything did a very nice job, in spite of the weather, which was switching back and forth between hard rain and a dry spell every few minutes.

Just as they were finishing up with the bed, the people for the alarm system arrived. Unfortunately, they weren't able to finish the job, as we need a working telephone line for the system. They'll be coming back next Thursday to finish the job.

Once they had left, the three of us strolled over to the stadsdeelkantoor to register our change of address with the population register, a chore that was completed surprisingly quickly.

Back at the new house, Sarah tried to get Wiesje to have a nap on the new 2000T, but she wasn't having any of it. I went out to visit the local Albert Heijn, which really is a poor one: no in-house bakery (so no gevulde koeken, bread fresh from the oven, etc.), no large bottles of Coke and many other missing items. Woe is me!

We had planned to spend the first night in the new house, but I was feeling too groggy to want to stay any longer at this point. We had so few of our own things around us that I just wanted to go back to the old place, get some food and settle down for the evening.

Unfortunately for me, there was still the neighbour's party to attend. We'd been invited to the Christmas party of our neighbours a while back, but Eloïse had missed so much sleep today that Sarah decided to remain at home with her. So, off I went, feeling really lousy by 20:30, to the Christmas party, just to be sociable and meet some people from the new neighbourhood.

As it turned out, the party was very animated. Most of the neighbourhood must have been present and I got talking to a good few people. I enjoyed myself and found myself feeling better when I left than I had when I arrived.

Now I'm back at the old house, writing this. We have to be back at the new place tomorrow morning to meet a guy from a furniture shop, who is coming to give us some advice on dining room table purchases (and who knows what else?). Apart from that, we have no other commitments tomorrow, something I'm feeling very happy about. Like I said, after today I'm knackered.

Since most of the light fittings have been stripped out, we'll probably take a trip to IKEA tomorrow to purchase some emergency lamps, just to shed some light onto the place until we find some more permanent illumination for the place.

And that just about covers the events of this personally historic day. We're home owners now and it's a rather daunting thought. No more landlords to pay rent to, but also no more landlords to fix all of the problems. It's all down to us now.

Another early day today and another case of not sleeping terribly well and feeling rough.

We had to be over at the new house by 10:00 to meet a guy from a furniture shop, who was coming to view the place and give us some advice. He's now making some drawings for us and making suggestions about how to furnish the dining area and living room.

He's returning next Tuesday with a dining room table and chairs, at which point we'll probably order our own table and chairs from him. There's a good chance we'll also end up ordering our main couch through him, although that may have to wait until next year.

Anyway, after he had departed, we returned to the old house and, shortly thereafter, drove to IKEA in the Greenwheels car. We bought a bunch of small things, including some emergency lighting to compensate for the paucity of working light fittings in the house. At least we'll now be able to find our way around in the evenings until we get some permanent lighting.

That's all we really did today, but somehow it still took all day to do it. There's nothing on the agenda for tomorrow, but next week will be very busy, so we'll be enjoying the calm.

We went to Media Markt yesterday and bought a Senseo coffee-maker, plus a trio of phones for the new house.

Today, I felt weak and had a bad headache all day. As a result, the pace of the day was excruciatingly slow.

This morning, I was up early to head over to the new house and let the cleaners in. Sarah had to go to her Dutch class in the afternoon, so I was literally left holding the baby as I walked around, supervising the cleaners and the electrician who had come along to tell us what would be required to make cable television available across the house.

Sarah's classmates from her Dutch class came along this evening for dinner, as today was the final lesson of her course. That was a great deal of fun and there are some colourful personalities amongst them.

Tomorrow, I'll be up even earlier to supervise the movers and the delivery and installation of our new washing-machine and dryer. It'll be very nice to be reunited with our stuff from Mountain View and actually have somewhere comfortable to sit down again.

I'm not sure how much actual unpacking we'll accomplish tomorrow, as we won't have much furniture in which to store things. One thing we will accomplish tomorrow, however, is spending our first night in our new house and new bed. That will be a welcome end to a very long day.

The washing-machine and dryer were delivered at 07:45 this morning. Needless to say, I was up at an ungodly hour to bike over to the new house in the pitch black in order to receive them. The attitude of the delivery men wasn't anything to write home about; I must say; grumbling and complaining about having to disconnect the machines and move the dryer from next to the washing-machine to on top of it, when it became apparent that the right-hinged door of the dryer meant that it would open into the wall and be inaccessible. They would have simply left it in an unusable state, had I not been insistent.

The movers came at around 09:00, followed at 10:00 by the bloke from the furniture shop that is loaning us a dining-room table and chairs. Thanks to these new chairs and the arrival of our old couch from Mountain View, we now have somewhere comfortable to sit for the first time in over four months. Truly! You have to have experienced the shite in our six month rental to understand how uncomfortable furniture can be made. Sarah's mum and dad know what I'm talking about.

Since all of our deliveries had been completed by midday, we were free to unpack some of our stuff. Hunger eventually got the better of us, though, so we left the house without achieving very much.

In the afternoon, we placed an order for a dining-room table and a couch. It'll be many weeks before they are manufactured and delivered, but we can now start looking forward to their arrival. We need some dining-room chairs, too, but we haven't quite decided what we want yet.

A couple of runs with Greenwheels of stuff from the old house finished off the day. I'm about to bike back over to the new house for our first night there.

With a little bit of luck, the phone line will be moved tomorrow and the DSL along with it. If not, oh well, I'll be off-line until the problem is fixed.

Sarah flies to the US with Eloïse tomorrow afternoon. I'll miss them, of course, but there will be plenty for me to do in their absence.