Expat tales: Packing up is hard to do

Another trip down memory lane. Three years ago this week, we were packing to return to Australia after 10 months in New York. Husband’s scholarship to university had run out and we couldn’t afford to stay on. Looking back, the things that stick in my mind were our local Thai restaurant, Thai Market, the Hungarian Pastry Shop and it’s yummy biscuits, my Fresh Direct grocery deliveries in their cardboard boxes that I progressively turned into pretend stoves, fridges and toy shelves for the Sprogs, visiting Gum Gum at the Museum of Natural History every Monday morning, having lunch at Pinch & Smac afterwards (pizza by the inch and macaroni cheese), our apartment having a doorman to take delivery of all my internet purchases, playing chasey in the snow with the Sprogs, being able to catch a train to 5th Avenue any time I liked … quite a few things, actually. I’m only scratching the surface. Anyway, this retro blog from my New York days focusses on the packing.

“I’m just back from another trip to a “dollar store” inHarlem for a cheap suitcase. We’re up to six large pieces of luggage and four small ones for the trip back to Australia. I bought a cheap pair of scales too, and we keep packing and repacking and weighing and reweighing. There’s a pile of stuff on the bed that we haven’t managed to fit anywhere yet. As the pile grows, so do our stress levels.

Numerous trips have been made to a local church’s thrift shop with bags of snow boots, coats and too-small clothes. A few boxes of toys have gone the same way. If the kids ask where something is, we tell them it’s “on a ship” to Australia. Unfortunately that ship is going to sink en route …

Sprog 2 cried like her heart would break when I told her the old plastic tricycle we’d appropriated for her from a sidewalk throw-out had gone on the ship. I felt like such a heel. I keep putting off binning her ratty old dollies, but I need to bite the bullet soon. We simply can’t squeeze them and all her beloved stuffed toys in the luggage too.

Ironically, we’ve discovered there’s no longer such a thing as sea mail between the United States and Australia. Everything must be flown at vast expense instead – around $5US per pound! The Sprogs’ Lego and Husband’s textbooks have taken that route, and burnt a rather large hole in our savings in the process.

In between chucking and packing there have been magical moments saying farewell to New York and the people we’ve met along the way.

On Friday, the kids’ school had a spring picnic in Central Park. More than 200 children and their parents gathered to eat and play together. It felt so strange to think we’d never see most of them again. Numerous offers of beds and hospitality were made for both New York and Sydney, but it’s an awfully long trip to make. We don’t think we’ll undertake the journey again for very long time. I’ve been joking that I’ll bring Husband back to New York for his 50^th birthday … which looms disturbingly close at just eight years away.

I don’t think anyone could say we haven’t made the most of everything the city has to offer. Well, there are plenty of bars and fancy restaurants that haven’t benefitted from our patronage, but apart from that …

Yesterday we visited an amazing place called the Park Avenue Armory, which had given over its enormous drill hall to an art installation called Anthropodino by Ernesto Neto. Dominating the hall was a maze-like structure build from giant wooden “bones” covered with a stocking-like fabric. In one part was a massive bean bag to sink into, another area had a plastic ball pit for the kids to explore.

The kids absolutely loved it, until Sprog 1’s head connected with one of the wooden joints and she gave herself a nasty black eye …

Later, we went to the Metropolitan Museum’s rooftop sculpture garden and bar for farewell drinks with some of Husband’s college friends. The outdoor bar offered spectacular views across Central Parkand the city. Unfortunately, what it didn’t offer was any healthy options for the kids’ dinner, so they dined on potato chips, ice-cream and Sprite instead. They were thrilled, we were faintly horrified, but a couple of glasses of champagne softened the blow.

I looked over at one point to see the Sprogs using a sculpture of tree branches as play equipment and almost had heart failure. A few hundred grand bill for destruction of expensive art work was the last thing we needed before departure.

Today we head to Central Park again for brunch at an iconic New York restaurant called Tavern on the Green. Budgeting has been thrown out of the window in the past few days. We’re officially in holiday mode. We’ve spent more money on cabs in the past week than we have in the entire time we’ve been here.

On Monday we’ll finally head to the airport. We’ve had to hire a minivan to transport our many suitcases. At the other end, my parents and sister will be waiting with two cars to collect us. And then, our lives will simply pick up again where they left off. There will be groceries to buy, headmistresses to meet, school uniforms to sort out, and work to return to.

How quickly will our interlude in New York take on a dream-like status? Will the kids even remember their 10 months in the Big Apple? Only time will tell.”

Time has told … Sprog 2 remembers zilch! Sprog 1 remembers bits and pieces. But I reckon they’ve been enriched by it anyway. I know I was, it was a chance to get to know my kids better, after three years of juggling career and motherhood. Priceless.