The first time we ever walked into an IKEA store, my husband and I were jet lagged and in desperate need of everything that we hadn’t crammed into our suitcases for our move from the US to Germany.  

“This place is huge, Katie.  Where do we go?”

“Maybe we follow the arrows.”  We looked at the enormous, winding path ahead of us.

I grew up in a small town.  My grandmother used to brag to everyone that our KMart was absolutely enormous.  I think it was about 1/8th of the size of the IKEA I was standing in.  

“It’s kind of like the Yellow Brick Road,” I realized.

“Yeah.  We’re definitely not in Kansas any more.”

(rubbing eyes in exhaustion and disbelief)

“Holy cow!  This is weird.”  My husband started running.  “We could be in Kansas!”

“Huh?”

“The carts.”  He pulled one out.  ”They’re free!”

IKEA was the first (and only) shopping center we have found in Germany that didn’t require a one buck deposit to use a cart.  We’ve never see abandoned carts in the parking lots here–everyone wants to have their deposits back, so they return their carts.  It’s kind of nice… when you have the right coin.  I’m pretty sure we had no euro coins that night.  We were still finding copper pictures of Abraham Lincoln in our pockets.
 

Following the Yellow Arrow Road to the things we needed

The Yellow Arrow Road finally led us to pillows and sheets and the most important part of our hike:  the bathroom section.

“We didn’t really talk about what to do with the bathroom, did we?” I asked.  

I wished I were a little kid still capable of climbing into the cart and dozing off while someone else did all the important stuff.  For all the day dreaming I had done about this apartment, I couldn’t believe how indifferent I began to feel.

“No.  We didn’t talk about the bathroom at all.” 

Our bathroom had white floor-to-ceiling tiles.  It wasn’t organized very well, and it was tiny.  (Click here for photos.)  We’d been so busy talking about our kitchen remodel plans that we had never discussed the bath.

“Hmm,” we both said in a rather dorky fashion.  (How long can I keep pulling the “we had jet lag” excuse?)

People were staring.  (They usually stare.)  I don’t think it’s because they were intrigue by our funny language.  They were usually eves dropping.  I hate that about Europe.  Everyone knows what I’m saying because I speak English; I have no clue what they’re saying to each other.  I smiled at them and turned to the shower curtains.

“No beachy theme,” I decided.  “You said Germany gets enough rain.  No more water-soaked images.”

“So then what?”

“I don’t know.”

Two minutes later, we decided on a theme for our bathroom.

“Well I like this shower curtain.”  I held out a soft green curtain sample that was decorated with slightly darker vines and leaves.

“That’s because green’s your favorite color.”

“Do you think it’s a good choice?”

“Throw it in.  Let’s go to bed.”