Ikea Adventure

Dear George,

What a week it's been and it's only Wednesday! A swarm of bees has caused chaos on Regent Street.  Boris Johnson is on course for a second term as mayor and Chris is coming to stay at my house this weekend!  I have been a busy boy this week making my pad look nice and tidy for the arrival of our mate Chris and his lovely lady friend.  It has even involved a glorious trip to Ikea because apparently shelves are a tidier place to keep things than the floor...???

I love going to Ikea.  For me everything about the experience is something I enjoy.  The digging out of my blue Ikea 'bag for life'.  The purchasing of a nice cup of tea for the journey to the tram stop. The ride on a tram...a real tram from like in the olden days.  As one rattles down the tram lines, the twin, tall, chimney stacks loom over the horizon like a lighthouse guiding ships safely away from the rocks and to the comfort of quality Swedish furnishings.

Upon arrival I stride across the enormous car park with a spring in my step and a song in my heart... Through the wide revolving doors I go, often I’ll linger by the doors a for a while so I can "ride" the revolving doors on my own and have a whole section to myself.  Once inside the only way is up...because that's where the furniture is...I long leisurely glide up the escalator to the first level where I am greeted with a clear plastic box full to the brim of little Ikea pencils.  I have to confess I own about 3,000 of these little pencils, and will inevitable pick up 2 or 3 more on each visit, always tucking them behind my ear in a manly fashion (only 1...putting 2 or 3 behind my ear would not look manly at all!).

The first decision I make is whether or not go to the restaurant now or after I’ve taken the 'yellow floor arrow tour' of the building.  Going to the restaurant is an essential part of my Ikea adventure because I just looooove their meatballs.  Love 'em I tell you, and all their gravy goodness.  When I was a student my flat mate and I would regularly go to eat at Ikea on a Wednesday night so we could enjoy a hearty meal before nipping over to the cinema and take advantage of the 'Orange Wednesday' offer.  Happy days indeed...if I could only turn back time...

The 'Yellow floor arrow tour' is one I have taken many times, and I imagine I’ll walk that path many more...it's like stepping into Narnia.  Each section is like a stepping into different worlds.  Fantasylands where no one leaves cups on coffee tables, drop crumbs on counters or keep old Chinese take-away menus stuffed into draws.  I just want to live in everyone...  Bookshelves with line upon line of uniform sized hard backs, no curly paged, heavily thumbed copies of the di vinci code here.  Beds neatly made without tea stains on the duvet.  Beautiful wooden tables with 4 matching chairs, no grabbing the folding chair from under the stairs to make up the numbers in this household.  Then there are the kids bedrooms...oh the stuff for a child’s bedroom!  All I can say is clearly my parents didn't love me as much as Swedish parents love their offspring.

Next comes the section where you can start to realise the dream.  Now it's time to pick up the furniture and the distracting pointless iteams you'll find as you navigate the sales area.  Someone once described Ikea furiture as Lego for grown-ups, i have to agree.


Now it's time to pay for your goodies.  Ikea know that this is a real down to earth with a thud moment because lets face it, it ain't cheap...probably because they're trying to make their money back on all those pencils going missing!  Ikea have found a novel way of distracting the consumer from parting with money by displaying bag upon bag of mini 'Dime bars'.  In many ways this is often the sole purpose of making my epic journey from Zone 3 to Zone 5.  Frankly you could offer me the promise of confectionary in miniature form and I’d do anything.

Then it's the ride home, quietly and contently munching on a big bag of tiny chocolate bars... So you can keep Russia, Mr Randerson... and every Russian there.


Take care buddy,
Yours,
Little Dave


ps.  Stamps = 46p