BurbleChaz

This morning I crawled out of bed a lot earlier than is my habit on a weekend. I had to go to our new flat to wait for the promised delivery of white goods. I strolled most of the way down Bourke Street, before being overtaken by a tramline-cleaning vehicle. I hopped on one of the four trams being held up by this, and saved myself maybe five minutes getting to the flat.

I had just sorted the junk mail out, and was about to start asking questions about the continuing lack of electrical power when the delivery guy turned up. He did an excellent job. Stuff delivered, in packaging, exactly where I wanted it. To put this in perspective, we had ordered a fridge-freezer, a washing machine and a microwave to be delivered last night. Fourteen hours later, and it's in our flat. The Good Guys (what a cheesy name) will be getting more business from us.

The Retail Expert had stayed behind. She was going to shop for soft furnishings and necessary basics while I waited for the delivery. When I phoned to tell her that the delivery was done, she had only recently finished her very close perusal of the pillows in the hotel. Breakfast was still under way. I spent the next hour unpacking white goods and moving it into position. Fridge-freezers are heavy. Washing machines are heavier. The really tedious bit was dumping the packing material.

Once I'd done that, I took a tram back to the flat, so I could do some email stuff. The Retail Expert had not had much success. Melbourne CBD is probably not the best place to look for furniture.

We took the car down to the new place, and made a few measurements. The kitchen has no place for a microwave oven, so we needed to work out what to do about that. Various other little things need working out. While we were there, a bloke from the building's management returned a phone message I'd left yesterday. He came round and helped us find the main electrical panel. I had spent 20 minutes earlier searching for it. It's behind the library door. I hadn't even noticed there was a door. Whoops. He couldn't help us with the electrical supply mystery. The supplier admits that it seems to be odd, so we'll get them to look at it on Monday. Friday is a silly day to start a lease. Nobody is there to fix things over the weekend.

So, with some unexpected time, we went to Ikea. Apparently, this is the biggest one south of the equator. It's about half the size of the one in Bristol. Some serious shopping took place. I don't recall all the details. The heaviest package I had to lift was 32Kg. Off the shelf onto the trolley into the car out of the car to the lift along the corridor into the room. Far enough. Five packages.

After delivering the goodies to the flat, we realised that we didn't have all the tools we need for assembly. The sun was setting, and there's no lighting in the flat, so we gave up for the day. We're a whole Ikea run ahead of the plan.

Because of the heavy lifting, I was allowed some beer. James Squires Rum Porter. Strongly recommended 1-pint beer. Dark, rich, caramel, nutty tones. The Beer Connaiseur hated it. It's one of those beers that legitimately causes strong responses. You couldn't like it 'a bit'.

Thence, to a truly excellent Thai restaurant on Southbank. We checked spice levels with the staff, so we each had an excellent dish, without any chilli overload.

Tomorrow, we're going to try to find the tools we need to build the Ikea stuff. Some fighting words have been spoken about a trip to a mall, too.

Shopping is not my favourite thing. I'm no good at it. Fortunately, I am being led by a world-class shopper.