Is it me, or has the world gone mad!!!? Stories of corruption and mismanagement in the Government are reported on daily, nothing is done. An African country ruled by a tyrant who seems bent on systematically killing his people, nothing is done. The Middle East is bleeding the west dry with high oil prices, nothing is done. Brave young men are being killed in wars no one can win, nothing is done. Violent crime on the streets of Britain is up, NHS waiting lists are longer than ever, taxes have gone through the roof, the housing market is in a state of collapse, a pop concert is held for an ex terrorist, some idiot is on stage dressed as a banana in a by-election, unemployment is up, inflation is up, interest rates are going up, food and fuel prices have rocketed. I tell you, with all this depressingly bad news, it's a wonder the world turns at all. But through all the gloom and doom, remember, there is good news, good times, good places and good people still about!

We had a few friends round for a barbecue the other evening. All were from different backgrounds. All had experienced high and low times in their life, but all had one thing in common. Like us, they had all made a decision to quit complaining and move on to try and make life either busier, better, quieter or easier than the one we had been living. The world isn't an easy place to live on at the moment, no matter where you reside, every country, including Spain, has its problems and the bad news of the world follows you everywhere. But it's nice to be with and associate with people who complain little and laugh lots. And that's what we did the other night during that get together. We laughed, chatted, discussed future and past and parted good friends at the end of the evening, not once venturing to discuss the British government or any of the negative worldly things above. Impossible you might say? No, just a choice, and before you say anything, it's not all sweetness and light out here either. It's just different, and yes, there are people who still love and live to moan or complain, but they for the most part are the ones that choose to wallow in the past they tried to escape from, and the ones we refuse to associate with.

I worked with a surly man back in England in my last job who admitted he always went to bed either sad, angry or grumpy because the last thing he watched on TV at night was the news, Why?!! Well, the last thing we watch at night is either the stars in the night sky while lying on one of the sunbeds, or I often indulge in an episode of Only fools and Horses', Blackadder' or Porridge' which puts a smile on my face before bed. It's a choice!

The point of all this is simple, making the move to live here is difficult enough without bringing the problems and challenges of the past with you. That may sound a little simplistic, but in my opinion it's bang on.

The world won't change around you no matter where you decide to pitch up, only you can change. I choose not to listen to the rude, ignorant, negative or the pessimistic, Spain is a great place to live, but not with the mental baggage of the past in tow, after all why start a new life with old tools?

We had been looking for a private let and had up until now not contemplated using a lettings agency, but things were desperate and the choices sparse.

I looked in on a company called Fordingtons' next to the new bridge and enquired as to the availability of a house, which I needed to move into almost immediately. A very helpful young lady called Julia informed me that as luck would have it, a property filling most of my criteria would be becoming available the end of that week. Rose and I made an appointment for that evening as the first to see to view a three bedroom town house not five minutes from the town centre in Alma Road.

The couple who owned the house were in attendance so we got to know each other and after a look round. It was perfect. Large, well furnished, and within our budget. We struck a deal there and then to rent for six months with an option of a month on month rolling rent thereafter as required. Next day we signed the contract, job done, place found, end of panic. We sat that night as we had done a number of times previous wondering what the flip we were doing! We were packed and ready to go, the company we had chosen to move our stuff to Spain had been and gone taking the bulk of all our worldly goods over to the Villa. Our friends in Spain who were looking after the property in our absence had confirmed it's safe arrival and had helped unload and packed it temporarily away.

It was time to move out of St Patricks and we knew then there was no going back. We hired a van for the Friday morning and stored as many possessions as possible together in the garage. The last couple of days were lived in a sombre and somewhat surreal atmosphere as our once beautiful home transformed into a bricks and mortar shell. The final night was taken up with a few bottles of wine and a take away with one last look at the night sky and sunset view from the balcony.

The next morning we were up fairly early to start shuttling our goods from one house to the other. We had fortunately been given the keys to the rental two days early because of the weekend, which was a blessing, as our buyer wanted to move in promptly the day of our vacation.

The move started well, everything just about done before noon, only the rubbish to be taken to the tip then a last check before handing over the keys. A phone call confirmed contracts had been exchanged, money was with our solicitor and that 16 St Patricks Avenue was no longer ours, though we were too busy to dwell on it.

Bureaucracy! Never so abundant than in a local council. We had filled the small transit with all the rubbish we had left.

One trip to the tip, job done, so we thought. The lads came with me to assist, but once at the tip, we were met by Mr Jobsworth'. I was informed that vans were not allowed to dump their contents at the tip; it was for cars only! I explained my predicament stating that I was due to move house within the hour and needed to get rid of the rubbish. Sorry sir' was the reply, You have to take it to the tip in Ringwood, no vans here'.

My exasperation was total, though I kept my cool and tried some logic. Okay I thought, I can park outside the compound and carry my rubbish in, there was three of us and a couple of old beds, everything else was bagged up. Again, Mr Jobsworth stood his ground. No, sorry, you can't offload rubbish outside the gates, vans must go to Ringwood, cars only here!' The boys and I looked at each other in total disbelief. We got back into the van and drove off with Mr Jobsworth looking on, complete with important looking clipboard.

Plan B! We pitched up back at St Patricks and proceeded to offload all the rubbish again and with a little bit of effort and a shoe horn, managed to cram it all into mine and the boys' cars.

Back to the tip. All three cars pulled up right in front of Mr Jobsworth and started to unload. My conversation was loud and unmistakable as I remonstrated animatedly the problems of jammed up roads, fuel costs, tin pot councils, all while his bemused workers looked on, though Mr Jobsworth looked less than happy. All cars empty, I told the boys I'd meet them back at the house shouting again, Don't worry lads, he's only doing his job, I'm sure someone loves him!' Rude perhaps, but in the mood I was in, well justified. Talk about automatons! What a palaver. I found myself misquoting George Orwell Three cars good, one van bad' as he might have said.

Anyway, debacle over, time was running short. When we got back this time, our buyer's removal van had arrived. Rose had vacuumed, washed and polished the place when empty, a parting testament of a clean and happy home.

I had tidied the garden and cut the grass, even going so far as to square away the shed, the house looked lovely and even I now experienced a tinge of regret. The four of us then went round one last time with a video camera, each quoting a memory from every room before we all four, me included, said a tearful goodbye to the house and left handing the keys to the lorry driver.

We drove with the last of our belongings and Spot, our cockatiel, over to the rental house and spent the rest of the day settling in and unpacking. It was home for the time being, but for how long? Time was on our side and it was just a matter now of getting the lads settled before flying away.

That was the last home we may possibly ever own in England, the next stage now was to plan the second move of a thousand miles.

Useful hint
Whatever figure you come to in the pursuit of a moving budget, double it, add the first figure you thought of, then add a further ten percent and you'll be getting near to the amount. Those of you who've experienced the joys of house moves will know what I mean, but beware the foreign move. Too many people are caught out by the spiralling cost of Extras' that need to be taken into account. As my next couple of articles will explain, there's a lot of running around to be done to sort out a foreign move, some easy, some near impossible, all cost that little bit extra which eventually adds up to a rather large figure.

We moved twice as you now know, so it was doubly expensive, but to be fair, there weren't many hiccups along the way as we pre planned as much as possible. I'll also be talking about tax, NI, pensions, investments and health cover over the coming weeks, very important but sometimes overlooked subjects indigenous only to a foreign move. It can be time consuming and a minefield, but nevertheless absolutely essential.

Useful tip
Take a tip from Santa, make a list and check it twice, take everything into account naughty and nice! Moving abroad has one inherent difference, if you forget something, you can't just drive into town or back home to put it right or collect it! Trying to sort or reclaim something on the phone or at distance in retrospect is very awkward and can be costly. The time in the rental property gave us that chance to get it sorted before actually moving. In my opinion it is something well worth considering even if it's just a short stay in a hotel or with relatives or friends just before you leave permanently.

Spanish facts
There are over 80 golf courses in the Malaga area alone. You can play a round for as little as 30 euros, or join one of the exclusive clubs for around 65,000 euros minus green fees! (Stick to X-box, it's cheaper).

In 1522 Ferdinand Magellan, who was actually a Portuguese explorer, was financed by Spain and became the first to circumnavigate the globe.

The English king, Charles V, spoke in Spanish when talking to god!

The Spanish speaking country Panama actually has its money printed in English and is the only one to do so.

Useful phrase
Dígame por favor, a qué hora la tienda/la barra/el restaurante abre?
Pronounced: Deegahmay poor faboor, kay ohrah lah tee-ehndah/lah barr-rrah/ ayl restohrrantay ahbray?
Meaning: Could you please tell me what time the shop/bar/restaurant opens.

Next week
Planning the finer and final details and thumb twiddling!