The A4 That Saves a Day: Writing a Moving Brief Your Crew Will Actually Read
Photo: moving crew unloading van outside UK terraced house clipboard checklist, via marathonmoving.com
Moving day rewards preparation, but not all preparation is equal. Another hour of wrapping mugs is comforting. Another hour spent writing a clear, one-page brief for the crew is often more useful. It won’t make the sofa lighter, but it can stop the van from parking in the wrong place, the lift booking from being missed, and the box marked ‘kettle’ from disappearing into the back of the load.
The case for a one-page crew brief is simple: moving teams work at pace, in unfamiliar buildings, with a lot going on. They need the facts that change how the job runs, not your full life story. Think of it as a handover sheet for the day — the sort of thing you’d want if you were the one carrying a wardrobe down two flights before 9am.
Why one page beats a binder
A brief that runs to six pages will get skimmed on the pavement. A single sheet, printed and sent as a PDF, gets read. The aim is not to document every item you own. It is to answer the questions that would otherwise be asked at the worst possible moment: where can the van stop, which door actually works, who has the lift key, and what must not be stacked under anything heavy.
Keep the language plain. Use bullets. Put the most important information at the top. If a detail only matters to you — the sentimental value of a particular lamp, for instance — leave it out unless it changes how the item is handled.
Start with access and parking
The first section should tell the crew exactly how to reach the property and where to stop. Include the full address, postcode, and anything that sat-navs get wrong. If the entrance is round the back, say so. If the buzzer is labelled with a name that isn’t yours, explain that too.
Parking is where many UK moves lose time. A residents’ bay, a suspended bay, a loading restriction, a narrow street with bin day chaos — these are not small details. State where the van can park, how long for, and whether a permit or suspension is in place. If there’s a clean air zone or congestion charge to consider, note it for the driver. Add a mobile number for whoever can move a car or open a gate if needed.
A useful line is: ‘Nearest legal loading spot is outside number 14; the entrance is the black door beside the pharmacy.’ That is worth more than a paragraph about the history of the building.
Lifts, stairs and the awkward doorway
If you live in a flat, the lift booking is the spine of the day. Put the time slot in bold. Add the lift dimensions if you have them, the weight limit, and who holds the key or fob. Mention any concierge or building manager who needs to be called. If the lift is out of action, say so before the crew arrives — not when they’re standing in the lobby.
For houses, flag the tight turns. A narrow side return, a low beam, a step that looks harmless but isn’t, a garden gate that needs lifting on its hinges: these are the bits that slow a carry. A simple note like ‘sofa came in through the front window; removal team to use same route’ can save twenty minutes of head-scratching.
Fragile priorities and first-off items
Don’t list every fragile item. List the ones that change the job. ‘Large mirror in hallway — wrap and carry upright’ is useful. ‘Nan’s china’ is less useful unless you say which boxes contain it and whether they can go in the van last.
Then add a short priority list for unloading. What do you need in the first hour at the new place? Beds, a kettle, the box with chargers and loo roll, medication, pet bowls. Mark those boxes clearly and tell the crew they’re first off. The same goes for anything that must not be stacked: plants, artwork, a computer monitor, the cage with the hamster.
Contacts, keys and the human chain
A brief should make it obvious who is in charge of what. Add names and mobile numbers for you, anyone else who can make decisions, the estate agent or letting agent, the building manager, and the parking contact if different. Note who holds keys and who will be at the new property to receive the load.
If you won’t be there for part of the day, say who is. If a neighbour has kindly agreed to move their car, give their number. If the keys are being collected from an agent, spell out the address, opening hours, and what ID is needed. The crew should never have to guess who to ring when a door won’t open.
The room-by-room running order
This is the section people forget, and it’s often the most valuable. Tell the crew which rooms to empty first and which can wait. Usually, the rooms farthest from the door or hardest to access go first. The kitchen and bathroom often stay functional until late in the day, but the boxes from those rooms should be clearly labelled for early unloading if you need them.
At the new place, reverse the logic: name the first three rooms to fill. ‘Beds upstairs first, kitchen boxes to the back room, everything else to the garage’ is clear enough. If there’s a room that should stay empty for a while — a hallway being painted, a spare room full of boxes — say so.
Format it to survive the cab
Use a clear heading, short bullets, and bold text for times, codes, and phone numbers. Print two copies: one for the crew, one for you. Send the PDF the day before and bring a spare on the day in case the first one disappears under a seat. Avoid long paragraphs. Avoid sarcasm. Avoid anything that sounds like a complaint before the job has even started.
Hand it over properly
When the van arrives, take five minutes to walk the crew through the sheet. Point out the parking, the lift, the fragile items, and the first rooms to clear. Ask them to flag anything that doesn’t match what they see. A brief is not a contract; it’s a shared map. If something changes — the lift breaks, the parking bay is blocked, the keys are late — send a quick text and update the sheet if you can.
A good one-page brief won’t guarantee a perfect move. But it gives everyone the same starting point, and that is usually the difference between a day that flows and a day spent repeating yourself on a doorstep. Pack the kettle last, brief the crew first, and keep it to one page.