We are moving. From a (mostly) furnished apartment to one without a stick of furniture.

We will arrive there, then, wanting all the basics in place. Bed, mattress, wardrobe, wall unit, dining table, chairs and, given that both of us work five days a week, we would prefer to solve that in one day of shopping. While also not blowing through a mountain of cash.

You can see where this is going. And where we went.

Hello, Ikea. Still the one-stop place to shop for the expatriate Westerner.

We planned this semi-intelligently.

We went to Ikea on a Monday morning, and got there minutes after it opened. It was nearly empty, always a preferable state of affairs.

(It’s no longer just nearby, having moved from the Marina Mall here on the main island to the outskirts of Abu Dhabi — on Yas Island — about a year ago. Ikea always wants to be on the outskirts; maybe for ease of shipment, or cheaper acreage for their monster building. So, a half-hour cab ride to get there.)

We arrived with a list. Yes, a list. Created from paging through an Ikea catalog that had been dropped a few months ago at the front door of our Hadbat Al Zafranah place. And then we made into a list via an application on the Ikea website, and printed it out. (“We” in this case being Leah.)

Thus, we had a very good idea of exactly what we wanted when we walked through the door at the Swedish-blue-and-gold building. It was the two pages of list with names numbers and little photos of the things we were fairly sure we wanted.

Basically, nearly every furniture item with the name of “Hemnes” on it … we bought. Well, not every item, but all of the basics, as outlined above.

We took the full tour of the grounds. Following the arrows around the labyrinth dedicated to impulse furniture buying.

Which, yes, means you are not going to get out in an hour. Especially if you stop and look for a minute at something you find interesting — even with no intention to buy. Which happens a lot at an Ikea.

We had a bit of trouble twice. One was at the mattress area; you don’t buy a mattress without sitting on it. Falling back on it. Bouncing on it. That took some time — and it also was the most expensive item on the list. Plus, we had to order it there and then, at the mattress station.

The other bump in the itinerary was a wardrobe that was not in stock. Not even at the Dubai story, 90 minutes up the road. Not even in another color. So, we looked at two of the pre-built wardrobes sitting on the showroom floor … and they were willing to sell us one already put together. (Even if it represented a risky scenario in which deconstruction and reassembly might lead to some dings.)

So, two hours through the main furniture areas, and then into the houseware-linens-textiles-plants area, and that’s where they are most likely to get you with some impulses. And did.

That would account for the the poster and frame (to cover the utility panel in the hallway), and the corner unit for bathroom storage (gotta put those towels somewhere), champagne flutes (you can never have enough of thoes), a cookie sheet (first working oven in three years!), a grill pan, dish towels, candles, paper plates, wine rack (the ottoman wasn’t working anymore), dish rack (the temporary hot pink one had outlived its usefulness, three years later), drawer liner, dishes to replace some that had broken. (We also got a big polyester Persian rug down there, but that was planned.)

Sounds like a lot, but it could easily have been worse, because we’re talking about an acre of stuff that prompts the “Hey, I could use that” reflex and comes after you’re already in for a couple of thousand dollars and begin to think, “What’s another few bucks, at this point?”

Finally extracting ourselves from there, perhaps mostly because our oversized shopping cart was overflowing, we moved into the “pick up your stuff from the warehouse” phase.

A really little guy from the subcontinent helped me find all the furniture, in its boxed glory, from the enormous aisles, and the two of us loaded it onto carts. Eventually, we had three flat-bed carts piled with long boxes.  And then we maneuvered those three, and the big shopping cart with our (mostly) impulse purchases to the check out area, and tried not to dwell too much on the expense of it … and then moved over to the shipping area.

It was determined that we had 23 parcels (counting the two the disassembled wardrobe would generate) … and after lots of paperwork and arranging a delivery time and date … we pushed the shopping cart outside and picked up a cab and, after only five hours total, were back home. (And then I went to work.)

So. Ikea.

Most of the people who will enter the new apartment will be savvy enough to say, “Wow, you really worked over Ikea, didn’t you?”

But at the end of the (one) day, what better place to go for fairly simple, fairly handsome, fairly inexpensive stuff that you can buy in the same building and have delivered — and assembled?

We do not anticipate visiting Ikea here ever again. Which is a compliment to those guys in Sweden.