The moving guys were somewhat bemused by the things they were moving, but they just shrugged their shoulders and got on with it.
The roundels got their own crate as they're quite fragile.
At one point during the packing process, the movers were compiling the manifest of labelled boxes, and came to the crates I'd already packed.
"What's this?" he asked
"A full-sized Dalek"
"What's a Dalek?"
"Just write Dalek - the customs guys at the other end will know what that means."