The Journey

When I first thought of driving over to Berlin it was with the idea that it would be easier (and safer) to transport all of my belongings in the back of the car. The thinking being that as most of it is electronically based (cameras, computers et al), having others transport it via air or sea in containers that would be banged around and treated with all the love and care of a box of sprouts, it'd be better if i did it myself.

The plan was to set out on Friday, drive down to Folkestone, then during Saturday drive from Calais to Berlin. Seems reasonable enough, two days to do 900 miles of driving with the aid of Mr B splitting the driving in half. What I didn't really factor in was that if you set off at 18:30 on Friday with an aim to get to Berlin by 20:00 Saturday (early-ish to pick up the keys) that in actual fact its only a little over 24 hours.

So, the first night wasn't too bad, we didn't hit much traffic and got down to the hotel in Folkestone around midnight. After some wrangling with the hotel staff we parked the car directly infront of the main doors to deter would be thieves from stealing my 32" TV, computer and boxer shorts. The room itself was sparse but accommodating enough, we settled down around 00:30 for some sleep, alarms set for 06:15.

After one of the worst nights of sleep I've ever had (full of stress filled dreams about the sheer act of moving to another country along with worries about the journey itself) I awoke fairly fresh in the morning. Got up, showered and promptly packed and was out of the room by 06:45. At the time I thought I was quite mentally aware of what was happening but as I left a couple of things behind in the room, I obviously wasn't. Downstairs to reception, asked the receptionist for our pre-packed breakfasts to which I got a look of blankness despite the fact that only 6 hours earlier I'd asked that exact same person for the breakfast and he'd noted it in a crappy looking scuffed binder.

The Eurotunnel was surprisingly easy, not once on either side of the channel were we stopped to ask for passports or even the slightest look into the cars contents. I could of had a mound of C4 and 15 AK47's in the back and they'd of been none the wiser. But, the lack of hassle from any kind of customs or bureaucratic mess was a pleasant surprise.

The drive itself wasn't too bad for the most part, just the complete tedium of staring at a road/arse end of cars for 11 hours only being broken up by the odd respite for food or a pee break. Driving in europe (my first time) was surprisingly easy, not in the least part that 98% of the driving was on motorways.

But, after nearly 24 hours of travelling the most perfect thing happened :

Now, you may not be able to tell from this photo what was about to happen, it was the last one taken before arrival in Berlin though. But that little dark grey patch just above the road we were heading into was whats commonly known as a bitch of a storm. So, just at the time when we were most awake and alert, torrential rain started to pour down so hard that on occation I was wondering if I was actually driving on the road or not. Talking became an extravagant pastime that was unavailable with the processing power left in my addled brain and the last part of the journey was turned into a complete nightmare.

After an hour or so we arrived into the city and around 45 minutes of pain in the arse driving around small roads found a parking spot so I could jump on the U2 line to go pick up the apartment key. This was a hassle in itself, but I'll cut the story short : the attendant at the DB service station at alexander platz was a prize winning cock. I'll leave your imagination to fill in the rest.

Then followed about another sweat filled half an hour of unpacking lots of heavy boxes from the car and trudging them up two flights of stairs with a brief lift assistance inbetween (ie. pain in the arse). Then a hassle of finding somewhere to park the car as what the apartment agency told me (no problems/charges for parking the car near the apartment) was completely untrue. At around 22:30 we meandered in a zombie like state down kastanienalle and found a little currywurst stall to add to the potato and sausage diet we'd already consumed thus far in Germany. Sleep thankfully came at around midnight.

The next day was a whirlwind tour of Berlin for Mr B : Prenzlauer Berg, Alexanderplatz, Brandenburg gate, Jewish memorial and a little rest on the grass of the Reichstag.

So, in summary, a bit of a nightmare journey and definitely something I won't be doing again (at least not over such a compressed time scale), but an experience none the less. I wouldn't say that I enjoyed it or hated it as such, more from the fact that I was so tired by the end of it that I don't really know what I was feeling.

Since then I've not done a whole lot thats fun (other than the occasional good night out). I'd say its taken me about a week and a half to get over the combination of the journey here, shell shock of actually finding myself in Berlin (driving here is weird, its such a slow change that you don't notice it creep up on you) along with doubts on whether such a huge move is a good idea in the first place. Add to that the pain in the arse of finding an apartment and I've felt somewhat zombiefied.