Been there, done that

People, I have finally been to my much-fetishized shopping destination: I have been to IKEA.

I got there by walking through Red Hook, Brooklyn, which is the least gentrified area of NYC I’ve seen so far. Capetonians, at times it felt a bit like the back streets of Maitland, which is not an area I’d choose to be seen puzzling over a map, contemplating a route over a busy expressway. I didn’t think anyone would mind me puzzling over a horse on a fence though.

Eventually I found my way, with the help of friendly council workers, and was relieved when a major chunk of blue building finally reared up through the trees of Red Hook Park.

And then…

It’s big. It’s dizzyingly big, with lots and lots of stuff. You walk through room after room, all convincingly made to look like genuine living/bath/bed -rooms, complete with books, coats on hooks, bags lying around. As you go, you take notes, planning your eventual descent into the warehouse, where you get the stuff you like.

But before getting down to all that, there’s the cafetaria to visit. I had yummy apple cake and Dryck Fläder (Swedish juice?), enjoyed in rather stylish setting.

And in the end, despite all my whining about not having IKEA in South Africa, I actually didn’t buy all that much. Of course, I’m travelling, so have to be practical. There were some heartbreakingly cunning pieces of furniture and lighting that simply wouldn’t fit in my luggage, and plenty of home accessories too. A moose coat rack, for example.

So here’s the stash I brought back with me on the ferry, minus a pack of ginger biscuits (scoffed) and moose pasta (a compensation prize purchase). Friends and relations, don’t look too closely, as some of these are prezzies for you.

IKEA: still wish we had it.