August 22, 2011
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It's still quiet.
To keep you occupied, I give you: the return from Berlin.... which was a Sunday or so ago. I've been doing masses of running since then, and I'm just too tired to blog. However, this is an extract from the email to P (I was trying to make him feel bad. I think I succeeded). It's a shame: had I had energy, you'd have hadsome blogs. Oh well. Photos will go up when it's not after 11pm.
I got on the s-bahn, changed at Bornholmer Strasse, and waited for the S9. And waited. And waited. And then the indicator flicked over to the train after the S9 was due. Which was weird. A nice old lady said, "Oh, it's just late". Then "Oh, it's cancelled. But I'm going to Schonfeld, come with me". So, I did. We went to the next station along (no idea what). Changed to the 42. Then realised we actually needed the 41... changed back again after an 8 minute wait, got all the way round to somewhere like Schonhauser Allee, and then had to de-train and get onto a bus. The bus went as far as Ostkreuz, by which point I started finding out when the next flight was (and wondering if I could break into the chocolate), and then I had to get back on the Sbahn, go to Treptower Park, and change onto the S9. It started raining somewhere around the station where we realised we were going in the wrong direction. By the time we were at Schonhauser Allee, it was pouring. I managed to post the postcards, and heard all about the lady, her son, her English lessons at school, that it was raining, that her son had the car because she was going into hospital on Wednesday (that was a conversation stopper if ever there was one...) and then she de-bussed two or three stops before me, telling me I had to change at Ostkreuz.
It was very, very wet at Ostkreuz, and there were lots of stairs. But the chap on the stairs was very helpful, and got me to the right platform, and there were helpful announcements too. There were loads of signs about the engineering works, at every station other than Bornholmer Strasse. At BS there were no signs, no functional information system, and no-one to ask. And no maps (what is it with the system that maps are not easily available?)I got to Schonfeld with about 8 minutes before the flight. Dad said that you try to get on the plane regardless (I phoned home for advice. Mum feels P should have taken me to the airport. She is Old Fashioned like that and in full clucking hen mode). As long as it hasn't left, you try. So, imagine me, belting through security (fortunately, they didn't stop me other than to put my umbrella in the case), belting along the departure area (Why do people get in the way?), along a corridor, down the stairs: only to come face to face with the polizei who had been checking passports. I was about one minute too late. And they were mean and wouldn't let me through. Nor were they remotely bothered about the fact that I was drifting into a full on asthma attack (fortunately, the inhaler worked. I love the new medication) and left me too it, blue in the face... Had to find someone else to escort me back through security to get to the booking desk. There some incredibly rude woman seemed to think that my troubles were far less troublesome than her troubles and wanted to jump the queue and kept interrupting the booking agent. I perspired aggressively at her. She did not get the message. I phoned Dad again, and he said that he's had exactly the same experience. This made me feel rather better about it all, rather than dissolving into a puddle of tears (it was seriously tempting at various points. The run round Ostkreuz. The run round the airport. The unhelpful polizei. I refrained. Just. Ish).So, I got a new flight. To Gatwick. At 9pm. Checked in, went through security "Oh, you, again?", and kicked my heels for hours. Without the aid of gin because I couldn't find any, but with the aid of a Mars Bar, and illicit knitting and with K sending me updates on how late things were running, because the airport didn't bother to mention this until after the flight was due to take off, pretty much. Over an hour's delay. Applied dry socks and let my shoes de-saturate. We got to boarding, and someone nearly had a fight with a group of strangers (I swear, if he'd been chucked off the flight, and had checked luggage, I may well have required restraining myself) Took off at 10:25, landed at 11:30 (vast quantity of taxiing about), took about 3 days to get through passport control (with exciting new passport gate thingy), finally found a loo (really, Gatwick is Not Well Provided with loos), got on the Gatwick Express at 00:05, and decided that after all that, a taxi was necessary from Victoria Station. Rather than falling asleep on the bus. Taxi driver appeared to think he was at Brands Hatch, it's a shame that the London roads aren't as well maintained as those on a racing circuit. Bounce bounce bounce bounce goodness how awake was I after that...Note to self. In future, check for closures on the sbahn at the weekend, and always carry a map.And have the courage to say to helpful ladies "are you sure we want the anticlockwise train?" because, I would not have missed the flight if I'd managed to say that. Also, learn how to say "are you sure we want the anticlockwise train?" in all languages...xxx
