After weeks of drooling over the catalogue, Maddy and I finally ventured along an epic journey to Ikea. The showroom, in Giltbrook, required a 15 min walk to the bus stop, followed by a 30 minute wait for the northbound Rainbow 1. Buses in England are colour coded, yes.Then, after a relatively brief, but brisk (re walking speed) beeline across the vast lot, half emptied now, we found ourselves before the Ikea floorplan map.
Girls don’t rely on maps, but on landmark objects. We wove our way through bathrooms and bedrooms, stalling briefly to admire and contest the best kitchen colours, before heading straight for the warehouse. All this without getting lost in the cupboards and cabinets. Who needs a map? Really.
So far so efficient. We crossed off our shopping lists - mine toting a single item, book ends, didn’t take long to accomplish. And then we hit the houseplants. This is where we passed our curfew, fixing plant in pot, swapping fern for flower. After – well we lost track of time – so after however long it was, I left with three pots but only two plants: a traditional tall dark and leafy chrysalidocarpus and the quirky and kinky juncus spiralis. As you see, Maddy landed an elegant orchid. The third plant pot, of window sill girth, has yet to house some greens. I figure it’s a good excuse to go to Notts’ Victoria Market for some more perusing.
Plants in hands, we departed once again for the bus stop. The Rainbow 1, now departing less frequently along the late-night runs, kept us waiting for over half an hour. It ran late. Shivering, we watched as the clock struck 5- then 10- past the minute the bus was supposed to arrive. And I knew the Brits to be reverently punctual.
The trek from the bus stop home felt like forever. Still, bookends and planters in hand, we made it. But barely. Exhausted, I breathed a sigh of life giving CO2 onto my frigid plants, as I set them in place in my bedroom. An epic journey, well worth it.
