Whether or not you’ll admit it, everyone remembers their first.

The first time they fell for an Aldi Special Buy, that is. Was it the motion-activated toilet bowl nightlight? The log splitter, unicycle, tennis ball launcher, night vision goggles? Maybe the motorbike helmet or Downton Abbey figurines?

Mine was large-scale infrastructure: a seven-seater outdoor modular with water-resistant cushions and sleek styling. Followed by the musk pink ski pants (kid’s size 14, but irresistible at $29), the Belinda Jeffery cookbook, the marble hall table, the jade jowl roller thingy, and garment steamer.

My husband’s spoils include merino track pants, a rice cooker, and LED reindeer. And there’s always the one that got away, the thing you left behind in the bizarre middle aisle. Did anyone nab the AFL team song doorbell? I’m shattered I didn’t. A missed opportunity because, as we know, Special Buys are a one-shot chance.

They’re also the naff thing we all secretly love. An ever-changing constant in the landscape of domestic chores. Grocery shopping is not a time most of us look forward to with anything other than ennui-tinged with fury. But the German powerhouse at least gives us twice-weekly surprises as an incentive to choose them (as well as being named Australia’s cheapest chain this year) over the currently disgraced majors.

So I’m not sure if it’s weird or a natural extension of their shock-and-awe marketing strategies that Aldi has just become a travel agency.

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Sadly, there’s no sign of a fake pilot with Velcroed epaulettes in their advertising as yet, but you can’t fault the impeccable timing.

While once-untouchable duopoly Coles and Woolworths are weathering legal and PR storms – they’re being sued by the ACCC for allegedly systematically misleading shoppers over price discounts on hundreds of everyday products – their major rival is cruising.