Late last year the lease on my flat came to an abrupt end. I’d read the headlines. I knew what was ahead of me. I was apprehensive, but determined.
Everyone dreads moving house. But as Australia and the world face a crippling housing crisis, with rental affordability reaching all-time lows, the experience has become even more stressful.
When I moved house five years ago, I got the first flat I applied for. We edged out one other couple who wanted it, and that was that – the deal was done. How times have changed.
This time, amid one of the tightest rental markets Sydney has seen, the process of submitting applications was gruelling. There’s nothing quite so impersonal as a “your application was unsuccessful” email, while you imagine the competition moving their sofa and plants into the living room you wanted. While rental bidding is banned, you start to believe it’s rife as you are forced back to square one.
After a month of searching, my housemate and I signed on the dotted line for a flat far superior than some of the ones we’d been passed up for. But the experience was made a little bit easier thanks to the people around me.
Moving house in 2025 requires you to assemble an elite squadron of friends and family with the perfect combination of skills and stamina. The first is someone who knows what a good floor plan looks like and won’t scoff when you start talking about good light and the downsides of a south-facing balcony.
Come house inspections, you will need someone with an objective eye. One step removed from the process, they can help weigh up the pros and cons, helping you work out what you can and can’t sacrifice. They can also point out red flags, or hidden benefits, and aren’t afraid to strike hot property off the list because it doesn’t feel right.
Once you hit the real estate websites and set up new property alerts, things start to get real. Enter the master planner. As a voice of reason, this person knows what you want almost as intimately as you. They understand your weak points, when to push you and how hard. Best of all, they bring your new life into focus, mapping out routes to the local supermarket, to work, and the nearest coffee shop from any number of prospective homes. They strategise as if life depends on it. Thanks to this person, I know more streets, parks and bus routes in and out of my new locale than I’ll ever need.
Then comes moving day. The task of packing and throwing away, checking your fridge will fit in the hole and deciding whether to change energy providers begins. Generous friends offer boxes and bubble wrap, cars or muscles on move-in day.
Two friends teased me for hoarding too many nice jars and canvas bags collected from around the world as they unpacked my boxes. But they also made my bed so I could go to sleep without worry, stored important nuts and bolts (and my swimmers) in their handbags so they wouldn’t get lost. In return, one scored an unopened bottle of gin I found in the cupboard.
With multiple moves come practised hands. No one can ever hope to be as a deft as a piano removalist, but you better have dollies, trolleys and the confidence to back a van in and out of a cul-de-sac – thanks, Dad.
Finally, it helps to have a great flatmate, who, despite my doubts, saw promise in bad photos, and convinced me to pay the deposit before I’d even stepped inside. In all of this, she’s the real hero.