Here I sit on on the sofa in my sitting room watching the rain as it thrums down onto the skylights and the patio, the thunder and lightning intersposed with Oscar’s anguished barking. Yet again I’ve neglected my blog for too long but I’ve had so many momentous things to think about and they’ve overwhelmed me. Sitting here inside while a tempest rages in the garden is a pleasing way to spend an afternoon, even though I’m conscious of every moment ticking away as one of the last I’ll be spending like this for a long, long time.

My friends, the time has come to consider the elephant. What was once a distant and threatening storm cloud on the horizon looms imminent. In a few weeks, John will be moving to Hong Kong to start covering the whole of Asia Pacific and,  when Eliza is settled at university in Scotland (we hope), I’ll follow him.

Many of my friends have asked me to stay here and for a while I considered spending my time equally between here and there but, airfares being what they are, it’s just not practical to do so. Let’s face it, I wouldn’t be much of a wife if I did stay at home. The fact is, though, that my whole life, my friends, my choir, my children are here. I have no idea how often I’ll be able to see them or when I can come back to my home. I’ve coped with this anguish by trying not to think about it but that’s not really possible especially now that we’re actually sorting out the practicalities of how this will work. I can’t avoid it any longer.

Yes, it will be exciting living in such a vibrant city where everything actually works and incompetence isn’t fetishised. I’ll be able to have help around the house (about fifteen years too late) and I’ll be able to travel and experience places I’ve only ever seen before on a screen. And there won’t be any more dingy, cold London winters for a while. I know all of this. It’s a considerable bright side and a plus. But I’ve always been irritated by the false jollity of people uncomfortable with my pain, who constantly wave away my sadness. I know it’s because they mean well and don’t really know what else to say but it’s my world, my heart that I’m weeping for, and it’s not quite so easy for me to forget that.

My terms of moving largely related to Oscar and Raffles and their comfort. Non-pet people don’t seem to understand this but my dogs are just like children, who will always be dependent on me for their comfort. There was no way on earth that I’d contemplate abandoning them to a shelter or trying to rehome them, especially as now that Oscar is ten, and has exceeded the normal life expectancy for a flattie. I simply could not impose on them life in a high rise building without a garden or peaceful walks. I’m still not entirely convinced of the quality of the walking environment that awaits us but I’m hoping that there will be enough shady trails and open beaches for a good run around. I might look into taking them off to nearby Peng Chau island for off-lead walks. Maybe it won’t be quite so easy for Raffles to run off.

As I write texts are coming in with contacts for vets and doctors and dentists from the wife of a colleague who, having been there for more than eight years, is now moving back to Paris. We were in Hong Kong last week for reconnaissance visit. We were there largely to find somewhere to live. We have opted to rent a house – the only one the agent had on their books within our price range – in Discovery Bay (DB – Dogs and Babies) on Lantau Island. It’s an expatriate suburban backwater but, as a suburban person myself, that suits me. The bay itself is a car-free environment where people get about by hiring golf buggies for an extortionate rate. Buying one would now cost the equivalent of about £200,000

The house we are renting would probably fit comfortably into the floor plan of my beautiful, long-coveted Beckenham kitchen but it’s on several levels and there’s plenty of room for offspring and guests, and a sun terrace with a view over the bay towards the city. I’ve already planned the wicker sofa with turquoise cushions, a parasol and a table for cocktails. A shuttle bus stops near the house for the quick trip to the ferry terminal and the 25 minute ride to the Central pier at the foot of the building where John has his office. As he’ll be taking calls from London and Paris several time zones away, he plans to come home earlier in the evenings and work as necessary from there. We’ll see.

We visited a furniture rental place in a multi-story mall in South Horizons, which also contained some designer outlet stores and a pet shop. It’s a leap of the imagination to think vertically rather than horizontally but the dogs coming for to sit passively being groomed in their canvas slings didn’t seem to worry much about going up several floors in the lift, so nor should we, I guess. One of my main worries was being able to source an equivalent to Oscar and Raffles’s current completely balanced raw food, which keeps them so healthy. I was reassured that there are several varieties on sale in Hong Kong that look good, but they come in small packets and it looks as their food bill will be more than twice as much as it is now. People shrug. Some things are vastly more expensive in Hong Kong, including pet food flown in from Australia. On this expensive list will be Reblochon and Sauvignon Blanc, and coveted European branded clothing that has a chance of actually fitting me. Computers are much cheaper, though.

I plucked up courage – John came with me for moral support – to sit in on a rehearsal of the Hong Kong Bach Choir at the Cultural Centre in Kowloon. They have auditions twice a year and I would hope to join in January. I’ve been quite nervous about this because I’ve never had to audition for a choir before, but it looks like I won’t need to wow a panel with my carefully-prepared aria from the Messiah. People seemed friendly and I have high hopes. Singing has pulled me through so many troubled times in the last few years and I can’t not do it.

I’ll be signing up to be a friend of the Hong Kong Ballet and Opera companies – Giselle is on in November and maybe we’ll be able to get family tickets for the Nutcracker at Christmas – and now I just need to find a decent jazz club. I’m not sure whether I’ll be able to continue my singing studies in Hong Kong but perhaps I’ll be able to find someone willing to teach me to play the piano again.

There are so many plans to make, so much to do and not much time for angst, especially as Eliza is just about to start her A level exams. The move does, after all provide some temporary job security whereas, thanks to our Brexshit friends, there is currently none whatsoever in London. We have another child to educate and a mortgage to pay. We simply can’t afford to wait around only to see the UK crash out of the EU with no deal next March with no financial passporting arrangements. But this blog will have something different and new to read and maybe it will be more entertaining.