This was our second trip to Ikea since we arrived in Bochum. The first time was a fiasco. We were tired, unsure of the procedures and, like an idiot, I forgot the measurements that I dutifully took of each and every square inch (or centimeter) of our bedroom. Kierstie and I pored over all the options. I configured and reconfigured based on the measurements provided and we came up with an attractive design that would have looked fabulous. In the end, Kierstie just looked at me while we were in the middle of selecting a higher end bed and she said "I think we should just buy the cheap one.". So, we did. We have the cheapest dressers (20 euros each), the cheapest bed (39 Euros) and the middle of the road mattress, which came rolled in a bag and was easy to carry. We had a ton of other stuff as well. If there was a way to organize something, Kierstie wanted it. Racks and hooks and bins and hangy things. She got em all and is still in the process of putting things in their place as I type. Anybody who knows Kierstie, knows she hates disorder. She's taming the beast right now and she's very happy with her "Hobo Chic" furniture, having her Org-Gasms,as I call them. She is remarkably satisfied after a good organization session. After a week in a suitcase, the cheap stuff is really quite...awesome.
A special mention for Christian, who was the pack mule of the day. We had so much stuff from Ikea that the taxi we hired only had room for one of us. Christian went while the rest took the train back to the flat. When we arrived, he'd hauled every piece of it to the flat on the 4th floor. Honestly, I was dreading that carrying it all up 4 floors, it was an amazing surprise. Thanks again Cristian.
Ok, now for a few more things I've noticed about Germans and Germany. Firstly, it appears that old German ladies think it's okay to simply walk up to a counter you've been waiting for service at and just butt right in there like they own the place. I'm not entirely sure if it's because we're foreign, or just because they're older so they think we should wait, but Kierstie damn near bit the head off the second lady to try it at the bakery today.
The beer here is a culture. Not like in Canada. I know Canadians are proud of their beer, and they should be. It's damn good beer. It's good here too, but it's not just about the quality, it's about quantity. They drink a lot of beer here, and I do mean A LOT. The average German consumes 107 litres of beer per year. The average Canadian consume about 68 litres per year. Crazy, considering I know how much beer Canadians drink first hand. Germans drink it like mothers milk. They drink it on the subway, in the street and everywhere else they can, except in their cars. Germans seem very offended by drunk driving, and it's not there isn't a train to everywhere here so there's no need for it.
Germans stare. I am not yet used to it and I don't like it. In Canada, if someone stared at me like the average German does, I would say "Can I help you with something?". Here, it's just normal, I guess. Young or old, fat or thin...they stare. Cary just waves and says a cheerful "hello". I stare back and scowl while promising death with my eyes. So far, I've never been the first to look away. Muahaha.
We went to Essen a few days ago. I popped a pic of a beautiful cathedral and got a snap of Kierstie and I at a cafe.
Also, some before and after pics of our bedroom.
More to come, tomorrow is now a "relax" day. Comments and questions are welcome.
Ian
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