A true story about a Sofabed and Holland

Beth was there to meet me at Aachen Hauptbahnhof, and no sooner had I got off the ICE train than I was on a bus apparently headed to Heerlen, The Netherlands. I handed the driver a €20 note because I didn’t have any change, and he took pleasure in giving me about €15 back in €2 coins, which is his right. I didn’t mind though because I like €2 coins. We were going to the nearest IKEA, which happened to be in Heerlen, because Beth wanted to buy a sofabed to make her room less bare.

When we found the flatpack sofabed, lets just say I had some reservations. I thought it’d be a big heavy box, but this was a giant heavy box. I wasn’t able to convince Beth not to buy it, after all we had just come to a different country to buy the thing. There is a special feeling, a mix of excitement and dread, that you feel when you leave IKEA walking backwards holding the biggest box you’ve ever seen walking towards Woonboulevard train station en route across the border.

We could walk maybe ten metres, and then we had to put the box down. Rest for a minute or so and then we were back walking another ten metres. We were going nowhere. At one point we decided to roll the box, and I use the word “roll” loosely here. Eventually after we climbed over a small wire fence to cut through a parking lot, a Dutch man pulled up in his car and offered to help us. He drove us and our box to Woonboulevard and saved us at least an hour. Woonboulevard is visible from IKEA.

We got there and then somehow made our way up the steps to the platform. On the train some Dutch people said some things in Dutch to us and laughed, we didn’t understand so we laughed along. At Heerlen station we waited with our box for the train back to Aachen. I have so far neglected to mention that Paige who lives in Bonn was waiting in McDonalds in Aachen for us for 2 hours.

We eventually got back to Aachen and had trouble with the elevator, it was barely wide enough for the box, and not quite wide enough for the box and someone’s fingers. I reversed Beth out of the elevator once we got down to the ground floor and as soon as we left the lift, Beth fell backwards screaming and a sofabed landed on her. Paige was there then, and helped us carry the monstrosity back to the apartment, via a big taxi.

I’m not sure it was worth it. I’m glad I went to The Netherlands. I’m glad I had a pretty hilarious day. I’m not glad that I can’t tie my shoelaces now without incredible wrist pain. I would never do it again, but I’m happy that it happened.

The sofabed is not worth it.