In my cabin on a sleeper train from the Highlands to London. Heading down for the next stage of getting our London flat ready for sale. I'll miss it badly. But it's looked after us and, in a way, it still will be (assuming it sells) - from the likely proceeds we'll be able to get a detached 3-bedroom house in Inverness with a big pile of change left over.
I hope I'll get in and out and sell it before the next national lockdown!
Hard to say goodbye to some places. I remember when we moved out of the place our oldest learned to walk and ride her bike (and where we had our second) how hollow I felt. I can still vividly remember her running away from me down a long sloping corridor, laughing hysterically (presumably because she realised she could escape me). We had to move as we'd outgrown the place but still, it felt like a transition away from a lighter hearted phase of life.
To echo CountingOutTime, good luck!