Remember the rolled up mattress? I promised you guys, there will be a follow-up and here it is. Just fyi, both A and I forgot our cellphones this particular day, so sadly, there are no accurate pictures available.
However, A and I made a plan Friday night, to get up uber early Saturday morning, pack up our mattress in a matter, where you can easily lift and carry it, leave before dawn to take the public transportation, so no one would see us and we would be saved from some humiliation. Around 9.30ish the next morning, we finally were some what ready to leave. Only thing we needed to do: somehow get our mattress rolled/folded or bagged up, so we could take it on the trikk (read: monorail/tram) and the tbane (read: subway).
So, since we JUST moved, we still have basically absolutely nothing to tie something up with, other than butcher’s twine (kitchen string). Well, that would have to do, wouldn’t it? All you need for the next few steps are: a queen size 8-inch thick mattress, some duct tape, some plastic cover, butcher’s twine and an insane genius.
Step number one: Roasted chicken! Lay out the mattress in your living room, fold (or force) it in half and press the two ends together while your partner starts tying up the mattress like Sunday’s roasted chicken. Follow Julia Child or your cookbook instructions carefully, this part is crucial! Once the strings are securely attached, put a large enough piece of plastic (use something, doesn’t easily wear off) at the bottom of the mattress to protect it from mud/dirt or any other kinds of unpleasant stains. Duct tape it to the mattress, make sure that it stays on there, you will need it, for when you need a break from carrying.
Step number two: Smile, when people give you the hairy eyeball! Now, the hard part: the carrying the mattress across the city. We live on the first floor, so thankfully we didn’t have to carry it down any weirdly shaped stair cases, so getting it out the front door was rather easy. We then walked across the park to the trikk station, several people stopped and looked at us, wondering if they should lend us a hand or just let us pass as today’s crazy people in town. As we walked, I noticed that I should really do some more weight lifting. Never knew, how poorly muscled I actually was… Anyways, finally at the trikk stop, we were hoping for a modern wagon, since they don’t have any steps and are rather wide but we lucked out and had to lift the mattress up the 3 tiny steps into the wagon. To be honest, the first part of our mission seemed kind of easy.
As we approached the central station, also where we had to get off to catch the train, we were greeted by tons of people, who obviously never let anyone with a large heavy item (= mattress) pass by easily, ever before. We slalomed through the people and then somehow managed to walk onto the tbane platform, without any mayor incidents.
Step number three: Up the hill, we go. Our old neighborhood is very residential, very quiet, very secluded, some might say. Arriving there, we didn’t have any problems exiting the tbane, the hardest part indeed was walking up the hill. See, we used to live in an area, where the view (no matter in which apartment you lived) was just simply magnificent but this of course meant, you had to pay the price of walking up, what from our perspective now, seemed like Mount Everest. 
I was so thankful that we were smart enough to attach a plastic covered at the bottom of the mattress, simply because there was no way I could have carried that thing up the hill without any breaks. We would stop every 7 minutes or so but, as luck had it, it started to rain, only minutes away from our old home, my arms started to get weaker and weaker (also read: I started to whine and whine) and A’s enthusiasm about this expedition decreased rapidly. So, one final time we both gave it our best, lifted up the mattress and ran to our old home.
There, much like you do with a roasted chicken, we cut up the butcher’s twine, unpacked our sleep-companion and lovingly threw it on the bed frame, swearing that we will never ever ever buy a mattress (or move it) ever again. But let me tell you, the satisfaction of having done this, was kind of like your first roasted chicken: heavenly delicious.
A bird loves a fish 