International love

Todays focus will be chain stores of the home improvement variety. I am a self confessed Office works fan, and so when I needed to have passport photos taken, of course I went there rather than a post office. My nearest store is about a 5 minute drive, and due to its 7 day availability, I decided to head out there on a sunday in an effort to ward off stir craziness. I had to park underground, and followed the arrows to the stairs, which had huge signs all over the door saying: "Fire exit. Do not obstruct. Do not leave open." Most people would heed these signs, but I guess that office works decided it would be cheaper to use a readily available (if prohibited) staircase, rather than build another one. I still felt like I was about to be arrested, but luckily, was not.

After I left, my travels took me past a sign for Bunnings, which I found quite odd. Thinking about it now, it's obvious that even a city needs building supplies, and universally handy items like hammers and tacks, but at the time, I just couldn't fathom what would happen to all the potting mix, plants and pond supplies, when the only gardens here appear to be made of pebbles.

Can I please just take this opportunity to say how much I love Sweden. Not only did it give us the amazing and iconic ABBA, but also the wonderland that is IKEA. My last stop for the day took me to the afforementioned wonderland in the hope of finding a not so shoddy fold up clothes line to avoid the clothes on the floor fiasco happening again.

I had never been to an IKEA before, and my nearest one happens to be the largest in the southern hemisphere. It is the size of a small city, and could easily survive as one. I would live in that city. It has its own Swedish supermarket and a food court, where I got a hot dog and a soft drink with unlimited free refills for $2. The coke was a bit shoddy, but the swedish special flavour, lingon berry, was delicious. On top of this, the second floor contained a cafe and a restaurant. It was amazing. When I braved the show room, I saw so many young couples about to take the ultimate relationship test: the flat pack. I also discovered a fabrics section to rival spotlight, the homewares section (very dangerous for an interior design lover like me,) and a group of hipsters basing their choice of outdoor chairs on how overweight their friends were. Although I don't need one, if anyone ever bought me an IKEA voucher, you would probably never see me again. Not because I wouldn't love you anymore, but because I would be busy loving IKEA instead. 

I'm going to stop writing now and drown out the child next to me repeatedly yelling "doors closing, please stand clear!!", by dreaming about the house I will one day fit out with IKEA.

                                                                                               One very happy little (Pop Art) Duck, out.