6. Packing up and shipping out – on a high

So, back to Kuwait and back to work.  By this time it's early March and I'm leaving the country at the end of the month.  My successor is already in town looking for hand-over and we have a major day-and-a-half long business opportunity identification workshop being planned with our Kuwaiti friends, closely followed by the latest in a series of high-level steering committee meetings, again with our hosts.  So much for my hoped-for gentle wind down to departure day then…

But in the meantime, we've finally, actually signed a deal!  No point in going into details here, but after more than three years of protracted negotiations and discussions (the process started before I got to Kuwait), this is a huge achievement.  But it's nice to have been involved and played a part, there's a new buzz about the place and it'll be good to go out on a high note. 

For work-related reasons I have to be back in UK and on local payroll by April 1. Mid March comes and goes and I convince myself that with all that's going on and so much still to be done for the trip, I should concentrate on the house being packed up, take the company-paid flight back home and spend a couple of weeks doing whatever I can on visas etc in London before returning to Kuwait to cancel my residency, close bank accounts, de-register the bike and then head off into the sunset. 

I then start to get concerned at all the talk of on/off strike action planned by BA cabin crew.  My worst fears are founded when strikes are confirmed over the next two weekends.  BA (now dubbed 'Bloody Awful' by my sister due to cancelled holiday flights) won't confirm any bookings around Mar 31/Apr 1 and a quick check online shows that seats on other days are disappearing fast. 

I consult our HR and travel people and they pull my departure date forward, by a week as it turned out, to the first available flight date – March 24.  This is fine in terms of getting me back to ol' Blighty on time but, of course, means the whole packing and shipping business has to be telescoped.

In this, I can't speak highly enough of the local team from ISS Worldwide Movers.  Tony, the ISS Packing & Removals Manager, had already paid me a visit to assess what was needed (another 40 ft container load), and manfully took on the challenge of re-scheduling their already full programme.  He managed to persuade a team to come and pack me up over the weekend and planned loading on the Monday, which would leave Tuesday for any last minute activity before I flew out first thing on the Wednesday – phew!

The packers when they came very early on the Friday were superb.  Mostly (typically) Filipino, and working under the clear and quiet command of team boss Joseph, they laboured hard and very efficiently but most of all, quickly.  So much so that I feared if I stayed still I'd end up in a box.  Not that I was static at all, I too had much still to do.  Yes, professional packers such as these can take care of the whole process, but previous experience had highlighted the benefit of a bit of organsation beforehand – it makes unpacking at the other end so much easier – but in spite of spending my evenings during the build-up so employed, I wasn't finished.  There was also the business of separating my (minimalist) needs for the bike trip, from what I would take with me on the flight, from what could be shipped.  Consequently there were piles all over the place which rather confused one member of the packing team who 'helpfully' (there's always one), wanted to pack just what I didn't want packing. 

Also bothering me slightly was a wardrobe-full of Sharon's clothes she'd left in Kuwait, most of which she said she no longer required - something to do with a size change or something as a result of her new fitness regime…  But how to choose?  How the hell could I know what to keep and what to discard? 

Thank goodness for Skype!

There we were, laptop strategically positioned in front of the open wardrobe atop a kitchen stool, Sharon on screen saying "keep" or "ditch" appropriately while I swung hanger after hanger in front of the lens; then there were the shoes…  And all the while a quick working packer or two gained on me while unloading my (clearly much smaller) wardrobe into boxes.  You couldn't make it up!

But we got the job done, in spite of the line dropping now and again, and I ended up with a veritable mountain of women's clothing to dispose of.  This, I opined, would likely draw me some rather strange looks down Friday Market, till Sharon reminded me that they would of course all go to charity via Isabel, our lovely lady who 'does'. 

So the packers packed and the loaders loaded till a full container was trucked away to Shuwaikh port for shipping.  This left me to finalise my own packing, three cases worth which, convinced they were overweight and would incur excess charges, I endlessly re-organised till late into the night.  So late, that I became terrified I would oversleep and miss the flight.  So I re-organised some more and drank lots of tea.  Thankfully I did catch my plane and slept most of the five and a half hour trip home.   

Lurking around in the back of my head through all this was the thought of trying to do something with my bike trip; something positive that might achieve some greater good beyond simply satisfying whatever selfish motivation is driving me to undertake this adventure.   Something like raising money for charity through sponsorship.  But which charity and how to keep it simple and straightforward?  More follows…