It was a moving experience, which I felt quite deeply.

I felt it most of all in the lower back but also in the legs, the arms and the shoulders.

Essentially my whole body ached like I had come down with an exotic disease, which differed from the actual exotic disease I once contracted while on holidays in Bali in that it had nothing to do with eating the pork stew, but nonetheless was quite significant.

I knew where I picked it up.

I picked it up in the aftermath of picking up various awkward and weighty appliances such as fridges, couches, televisions and (more about this one later) Australia’s heaviest washing machine.

On Saturday we helped my brother and his family relocate most of their worldly possessions from their former Buderim house to their new Buderim house a few blocks away.

This doesn’t sound like a big move until you are confronted with the reality that getting things in and out of the truck is the hard part and riding from point A to point B in the truck is the fun part.

Therefore, in an ironic way, a larger geographical move would be more enjoyable but then our kids wouldn’t get to see their cousins – who now have a swimming pool – as much, so I guess the anguish was justifiable.

In addition to the fun, albeit short rides in the big rented truck, there was a selection of other highlights to emerge from the weekend, such as:

• When it was all over, my sister in-law’s mother made lasagne.

• We went to the tip. At the tip, my brother and I got to throw an old refrigerator onto concrete from a decent height, facilitating in the door flying off.

The enjoyment this gave us, while short lived, was some consolation for being slugged $28 by the tip man to dispose of this particular item alone. Apparently it had to be “decommissioned”, despite the fact that, as far as we knew, it had never served in the navy.

• We got to use a potentially dangerous hydraulic lifting device without any training.

• I scored a pair of Doc Martens from my brother that he didn’t want any more.

• During a break I drank hot tea from a Bart Simpson glass wrapped in a serviette, as all the real cups where in a box somewhere.

As you can see, the day wasn’t all bad, just the repeated elements of strenuous physical exertion associated with it, which I am sure anybody who has had the displeasure of having to carry a front-loading washing machine without the assistance of a crane could attest to.

(Handy moving tip: Rotating the wash cycle dial so it is not pointing to “heavy” makes absolutely no difference to the weight of the machine.)

My neighbour Maurie, who is wise, has since informed me that front-loading washing machines are notoriously difficult to budge because they contain weights to keep them stable during their various washing duties.

Not knowing this, at first we thought ours was bolted to the laundry floor.

However, with a concentration of intense effort and with the making of suitable heavy-lifting grunts and groans, we were able to shift the appliance millimetre by back-breaking-millimetre out of its hidey hole.

Then, using the same technique employed by the ancient Egyptians in transporting gargantuan stone blocks during the building of the pyramids – had they been able to access large, flattened cardboard boxes – we employed the sled method to edge the defiant beast onward.

With souls, knuckles and shins all but destroyed we eventually negotiated the obstacle course of multi-leveled exterior decks and stairs to arrive at the aforementioned hydraulic lifting device incorporated into the rear of the truck.

Watching it rise effortlessly upward, I was convinced that this Budget rental vehicle was indeed a wonder of the modern world.

Our spirits lifted incrementally with the Westinghouse, then plateaued just as quickly as we accepted the fact that victory was far from ours – we would have to repeat the painful exercise at the other end.

At least there was a fun ride in the truck to enjoy in the meantime.

Did I mention it made a beeping noise when you reversed it? That was good.

The crunching noise while reversing was my knee, which wasn’t so good.