It could be plain sailing for IKEA!

Ikea is finally to open its doors in Dublin by the end of this year. The process that led to this was as about as easy as getting a three piece suite to the top of the Vigla single-handedly without a donkey!

The Irish government thought the store was too big. Of course, they had the public’s interests at heart. Sure, wouldn’t people be dazzled and confused by all those glittery lights, new fangled furniture and low prices? They’d end up losing their way in the kitchen department, searching desperately for the €1 Swedish meatballs and be found months later starved to death, GPS units still in their bony hands, under a nice sink unit.

Things weren’t helped by cartels of furniture retailers, unhappy they weren’t going to be able to charge €2,500 for a designer plastic lamp anymore, the likes of which costs €3.50 from the Nordic gods of flat pack. In the end, they all came to a compromise. All Ikea had to do was build Ireland’s new road infrastructure. Okay, a bit of a exaggeration, but their contribution to the Irish road network around the airport area wasn’t small and could be one of the last untolled roads to be built in Ireland.

It’s great news for the furniture starved citizens of Ireland obviously, but got me thinking about the flight of us poor citizens on Symi. Water isn’t the only commodity that’s scarce on this island. We have no sofas!

Let’s face it! Your traditional blue rattan ouzeria chair just doesn’t cut the mustard on Saturday night, cuddling up with your loved one to watch The Party of Your Life, Greece’s answer to The Late, Late Show.

So, here’s my suggestion for the Nobel Prize winning business analysts at Ikea. No one here wants to paddle across the Aegean in the 2000 year old rust buckets that masquerade as passenger vessels from Piraeus to Symi. (Recent evidence unearthed in the canteen of the Dimitroulla, suggests that Jason & the Argonauts may have set out on their quest for the Golden Fleece in her rusty bowels.) Instead, let’s convert these hellish ghost ships into a floating boutiques filled with heavenly inexpensive twin-seaters, futons and corner suites for islands like sofaless Symi.

Just how I get my shiny new black leather three-seater up to the top of Mavrovouni is another thing?