This is all taking me back over a quarter of a century to when we moved into our current house, which I hope to leave for the last time feet first.
The people selling to us decided to book a huge international company (let's call it Fairbanks) for their removal. They were going to a place in Kent, a large detached house which had been converted into several separate dwellings, all reached by one driveway from the main road.
I got quotes from several removal firms. The rep from Fairbanks was a cocky young man who told me that if we booked them we'd get a discount as it would be easier for them to be doing the moves both out of and into our new house. In spite of this, his quote was a lot more expensive than one from a local firm we'd had personally recommended, so we went with the local people. The F rep rang eventually to confirm that we were taking up his generous offer - I told him no, and explained why - he became really unpleasant, told me we were making a big mistake, and not to blame him if it all went wrong on the day. 
We had two very young children at the time so had decided to pay for packing. Day before the move, a super-efficient crew from Local Firm turned up and went through the house like a plague of termites, wrapping, packing, no delays to marvel at the beauty of some long-forgotten item, no dithering over whether to take it or not etc etc, just non-stop work, and we were all packed by the end of the afternoon. It was absolutely marvellous.
On the day of the move, the van turned up and the crew started moving things into it. In the midst of this, the man we were buying from turned up (we only lived half a mile away) and said very apologetically that it had become clear that they were not going to be out by noon. The Fairbanks rep who had been so nasty with me had booked too small a van and they were going to have to wait for a second van to come to take away the last of their stuff.
Local Firm boss remained very calm and said they would work round this. We moved up there as planned, leaving our house well before noon and arriving at the new place shortly after 12. Fairbanks men were running backwards and forwards trying to get van #1 packed and on the road. Eventually off it went. Local Firm were moving our stuff in around the Fairbanks men. Fairbanks van #2 arrived and the new crew came in, muttering that they didn't even know where they were taking this load to yet. 'Where have you come from?' I asked, trying to be nice. 'Canterbury', they said. 'Oh good', said I (revealing my cluelessness about the geography of Kent). 'You're going back to Kent! They're moving to somewhere near Tonbridge.' Groans all round from the crew, as apparently that's the opposite side of the county and they wouldn't be home till the early hours. Oops.
The final straw came when crew #2 heard that crew #1 had arrived at the entrance to the driveway, turned off the main road and immediately broken down in the entranceway. This meant all the other residents of the conversions were unable to get in or out until the lorry was fixed. What a way to introduce yourselves to your new neighbours.
Two postscripts:
Local Firm were excellent to the last. Boss noticed the glass on one of our pictures had cracked, pointed it out, whisked it away for replacement, brought it back a day or two later. I recommended them to lots of other people so I hope they got new business from it.
I mentioned to one of the Fairbanks men that we had had a quote from their firm and he smiled wryly and said 'I bet he told you we use the best quality boxes, bubble wrap, tape etc - all rubbish - we use exactly what everybody else uses'. 