And then the inevitable question,"what do we do now?" was asked. I can't recall who asked it, but in truth we were at a little bit of a loss to answer it, our energies having been focused on getting packed and the flat ready for let for the past 3 weeks. We walked outside the station, wandered for a few minutes, decided it was too hot, and returned to the station.
After a few minutes debate and a cold cola we decided to jump on the Metro and head south to Notre Dame. Even though the building looked magnificent in the dazzling sunlight, the humidity was a little overwhelming so we headed for a shaded sidestreet and sat down for another drink.
A few hours later, after further unplanned wandering around the streets of Paris we made our way back to the station, collected our heavy bags and began the waiting game for our train, the Pegasus. The gare de l'Est suddenly came to live as the shoppers of Paris took refuge from one almighty thunderstorm, which brought a brief but blessed relief from the heaviness of the air.
As the Pegasus made its (her? Any train enthusiasts want to out themselves at this point? Is a train a her, a him, or an it?) way out of Paris the thunder subsided, but the grey skies and rain didn't, somewhat spoiling the experience. Nevertheless the thin corridors were crowded with bodies, and the sound of excited chatter in a multitude of European languages echoed through the rooms.
We found our bedroom inhabited by a German couple, Linda and (what I can only write as I heard) Bogart, who would prove to be invaluable to us later in the trip. The four bed room was intimate to say the least, and because the train set off at 8.20 in the evening the beds had already been moved into sleeping position.
We had our dinner standing in the corridor outside our room, chatting to Linda and Bogart. It's quite a skill to eat a salad from a plastic fork, stood up on a moving train, a skill that I can't claim any technical efficiency in if the state of my shirt is a measure of lack of accomplishment. However, it was an interesting end to our first day on the road, and we went to bed expecting to find ourselves in Berlin when we awoke.
It's fair to say, that didn't quite go to plan, not least because we were both roused from our sleep several times throughout the night. At one point, having been pinned to the wall for a few moments as we presumably climbed a hill, I nearly made a very close acquaintance of Linda in the bed opposite from me as the driver tested the proficiency of his brakes, the first of many times throughout the dark hours.
When we finally decided that sitting was easier to lying, we were given notice that there had been a problem during the night, we were two hours behind schedule. Linda explained this to us, and advised that we could get some of our money back from Bahn DE, even getting a claim form and the conductors stamp for us. Then the conductor came around with a complimentary coffee, which was most welcome, even if it had the effect of a punch in the larynx.
Because of our late arrival in Berlin,we made a way across from the Hauptbanhoff to our hostel to leave our bags, and headed out for some food. Our hostel is located in the east of the city, around Rosa Luxembourg Platz, and we've found some really good value restaurants in the area, including a little micro-brewery. And Currywurst, which predictably given our relative enjoyment of fast food, I absolutely love and Gemma is less keen on! Though I should add that we both fell in love with a rather enigmatic apple strudel doused in vanilla cream last night!
So, Berlin, we've been here for over 24 hours now and have managed to visit the Brandenburg Gate, Checkpoint Charlie, an exhibition called The Topography of Terror (located on the former site of the SS headquarters, and take an open top bus tour in the rain. We're hoping to squeeze in a visit to a museum tomorrow, but as we're due to catch our train to Moscow tomorrow afternoon, we'll be trying catch up on a few less exciting tasks this evening, like finding a supermarket and buying some washing powder. And writing a very harsh letter to the company who sold me a duff backpack (Why did I trust something with DUFF written all over it, why?)
At least we can relax and have a drink in the Wombats rooftop bar this evening, assuming the rain gives up for a while, and enjoy a spectacular view of Berlin at night. We might even remember to take our cameras up this time.
P.s. Apologies for the lack of photographs at this point. I have managed to forget my USB cable. I bloody well knew there was something I had forgotten. I just hope that's the only thing.
You managed to forget the same thing when you went to Africa.
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