I have worked as a small-crew mover in southwestern Ontario for years, mostly running a 26-foot truck through London, St. Thomas, Strathroy, and the nearby farm roads that feed into the city. I have carried sectionals out of Old North duplexes, wrapped glass cabinets in Byron, and backed into apartment docks near Richmond Row with six inches to spare. Moving in London has its own rhythm, and I learned most of it by bumping my shins on porch steps, waiting on elevators, and talking tired customers through the last hour of a long day. I still like the work because a good move feels practical, human, and a little bit earned.
What I Notice Before I Lift the First Box
The first thing I look at is access, not furniture. A house can be full of heavy oak, but if the driveway is wide and the doorways are clear, the day starts in decent shape. A small apartment can be harder if the elevator is slow, the loading zone is shared, or the hallway turns tight after 12 feet. Stairs change everything.
I ask about the biggest pieces before I ask about the number of boxes. Sofas, king mattresses, treadmills, deep freezers, and old armoires tell me more about the move than a rough room count ever does. A customer last spring told me she had a “small basement setup,” and it turned out to include a slate pool table, two metal shelving runs, and a workbench that had been assembled downstairs years earlier. That sort of detail changes the tools, the time, and sometimes the crew size.
London homes vary more than people expect. I have worked in wartime houses with narrow stairs, student rentals with three flights and no clear parking, and newer subdivisions where the challenge is keeping the truck out of soft boulevard grass. If I can picture the route from the truck to the last bedroom, I can plan the move with fewer surprises. That is usually where a good day begins.
Choosing Help That Matches the Move
I have seen people hire too little help because they want to save money, then lose the savings through delays, damage, or exhaustion. Two strong friends and a borrowed pickup might handle a bachelor apartment, especially if the distance is short and the weather is decent. Once there is a full house, a tight closing window, or heavy furniture on stairs, I usually tell people to bring in a crew that does this every week. The difference shows by hour 3.
One neighbour of a customer in Pond Mills once booked movers in London, Ontario after watching his brother struggle through a move with one dolly and a rented cube van. He told me the biggest relief was not the lifting itself, but having people who knew how to pad a doorway and load tall pieces without wasting half the truck. I understood what he meant because loading is part geometry and part patience, especially when a move has both fragile furniture and awkward garage items.
I also pay attention to the kind of service someone really needs. Some customers want a full load, transport, and unload, while others only need muscle for a two-hour window. I have helped seniors move from a three-bedroom home into a smaller condo, and that kind of job needs a slower pace than a student move near Fanshawe at the end of August. The right crew is not always the biggest crew.
Packing Habits That Make Moving Day Easier
Packing is where customers have the most control. I can work around many things, but open bins, loose lamps, and half-filled garbage bags slow down a crew fast. I like boxes that can close flat, with labels on at least two sides and no mystery liquids tucked inside. Even 20 well-packed boxes can move faster than 8 messy ones.
Kitchen packing deserves more care than most rooms. Plates should stand on edge, glasses need paper or padding between them, and small appliances should not be tossed into oversized boxes with cookbooks and cast iron pans. I have opened a truck door after a short ride from Wortley Village to Masonville and seen a badly packed kitchen box sag like wet cardboard. Nobody wants to hear that sound.
My own rule is simple: pack for the person carrying it, not the person taping it. If a box feels wrong when it is lifted 6 inches off the floor, it will feel worse halfway down a walkway in sleet. Books should go in small boxes, bedding can go in large ones, and tools need containers that will not split. Label the last-day essentials clearly.
The London Details That Can Change the Plan
Weather changes moves here more than people like to admit. A January move can mean salt, slush, wet runners, and frozen fingers before the first dresser reaches the truck. A July move can be just as hard if the crew is carrying from a third-floor walk-up with no shade and no air moving in the stairwell. I have learned to pack extra floor runners and more water than I think I will need.
Traffic is usually manageable, but timing still matters. Richmond Street, Oxford Street, Wellington Road, and the routes near Western can all slow down at the wrong hour. On student turnover days, I have seen the same block hold three moving trucks, two delivery vans, and a parent trying to parallel park with a mattress tied to the roof. Parking matters too.
Condos and apartment buildings add another layer. Some buildings need elevator bookings, some need proof of insurance, and some have loading doors that close earlier than customers expect. I once had a customer near the downtown core who had packed beautifully, but nobody had reserved the service elevator. We spent the first hour waiting, and that hour could have been avoided with one phone call earlier in the week.
How I Think About Cost, Timing, and Calm
Most moving stress comes from guessing. People guess how many boxes they have, guess how long the truck can sit out front, and guess that the old couch will fit down the new stairwell. I would rather hear a rough but honest description than a polished one that leaves out the hard parts. A move with 65 boxes, two beds, a treadmill, and a piano bench is easier to plan than a move described as “just the usual stuff.”
Cost depends on time, crew size, access, travel, and the amount of preparation already done. I avoid promising that any move will be cheap, because cheap work often becomes expensive when something gets scratched or the day runs long. That said, a customer can usually save several hundred dollars by packing early, clearing walkways, taking apart simple bed frames, and moving small loose items before the truck arrives. Small jobs reward preparation fast.
I also believe customers should leave some space in the schedule. A closing delay, a missing elevator key, or a couch that needs the legs removed can throw off a tight plan. I once handled a move where the customer had booked cleaners 30 minutes after we were supposed to finish, and everyone felt rushed once a heavy cabinet slowed us down. A calmer plan would have cost the same and felt much better.
I still think a good move in London starts before the truck rolls up. Tell the truth about the stairs, measure the awkward pieces, book the elevator, and pack the things that always get forgotten until the last night. I have seen ordinary moves go smoothly because the customer handled those details, and I have seen simple moves drag because nobody did. The best moving day is rarely perfect, but it can be steady, organized, and far less stressful than people expect.