On a blustery day a year ago I stood outside the big blue tin box in Belfast, slightly daunted. An escalator delivered me and my mother up to Ikea-land. Floor arrows pointed a route through the windowless acres of showroom. On this first floor a catalogue world of perfection was laid out. We were both at different stages of renovating a house.

A cleaner, brighter life was promised, but first it was time for a snack in the pleasant restaurant, where windows and natural light provided relief. Then more browsing and finally down to the work of figuring out the precise details of wardrobe measurements and kitchen units.

This is where it began to get difficult. The staff were helpful but there were too many choices. There’s the wardrobe, its doors, its innards. This might take an hour. Then it’s downstairs to the market hall, a bewildering space packed with things you haven’t seen in the catalogue, all begging to be put in a trolley. A kind of snow blindness can set in. All those practical things you saw upstairs are not easy to find in the clamour of stuff.

We made our way through the maze to the huge doors, where the real work of the day starts – the warehouse. For every item you need there is a separate aisle and location number. We got flat bed trolleys and began the work of warehouse hefting. There was none of the inspiration of several hours ago, just brutishly heavy cardboard cartons to heave onto trolleys.

We arrived at aisle 37, location five (or some other combination) and the bit that was needed was sold out. We were told we would have to come back in a few days, weeks or months for it. Ikea would get another chance to tempt us all over again.

But you are a more hardened Ikea shopper on your return. By now you know what people mean when they say “it’s great and it’s awful”.

Next visit you forgo the dreamy room set and head straight to the warehouse. Load up those boxes and bits, pay for them. Then you allow yourself to be distracted by seven living room layouts and a bit of people- watching interspersed with food and coffee.

The golden rules

• Shop on a Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday morning, when it's quiet. Under its planning conditions the Dublin store cannot open before 11am on weekdays.
• Avoid weekday afternoons if you are driving, as the Dublin Ikea has to charge for parking between 4pm and 8pm to limit congestion (another planning condition).
• If you have a complicated purchase, such as a kitchen or wardrobe, do as much planning as you can online.
• Get your list of items from the expert in the area as soon as you arrive and go straight to the warehouse to load them on a trolley.
• If you want to browse, now is the time, but a bit of discipline is required to avoid the "I bought it because it was cheap" scenario.
• When you get your stuff home read the instructions before trying to assemble it. When put together properly, the furniture is great – durable and solid.
• If all of this sounds like hell in a flatpack then wait a year. The Dublin Ikea must provide an online ordering service within 12 months of opening. The service will probably be limited to larger items.