IKEA Or Airport

I spent twenty minutes on the rowing machine at my gym today, had a quick soak in the hot tub and showered. Irritatingly, the swimming-pool at my old school is closed for half-term. I miss it considerably.

I ventured upstairs to have a look at the cafeteria (in the Robinson Centre) and it seems similar to most municipal leisure centre cafes: slightly greasy smell, chips, sandwiches, chips, sausage rolls, chips.

I left and drove on to IKEA. I'd never been to IKEA yet, so this was to be a novel experience. In the event, it turned into a non-starter: first impression was of a place so monstrous that it resembled a large airport. Ironic that, since Belfast City Airport is directly opposite.

I drove miles yards into the car park, circled around looking for a space near the shop, which was practically impossible unless you park in the multi-storey park. I refuse to park in these multi-storeys because the spaces between cars are too close, and I don't want a careless child or an ignoramus opening the door of their old banger against my car.

Perhaps I'll never experience the joys of IKEA. The thought of missing out on those Swedish meat-balls...

The shopping centre beside IKEA, Holywood Exchange, seems as if it'll open imminently. I'll look forward to that.