Berlin - Day 1

We started the day and our trip to Berlin by almost missing our flight. We arrived at the airport with EIGHT minutes to spare and the check-in was closed right after us. How could this happen? Let's just say it is the story of an unfortunate family that left their home in good time only to get caught in the biggest traffic jam the city of Stockholm has ever seen.That we made it at all is nothing short of a miracle and owed greatly to the fact that my brother-in-law drove like he had gotten his license from a Cracker Jack box.

After that start, how much worse could the day really get? When we got to the gate they had already started boarding so within minutes after checking in we were on the plane. We had an aisle seat and a middle seat in row 4. The window seat was occupied by an elderly business traveller. You could see from the expression on his face just how much he liked having us sitting beside him and he was not afraid to show it in other ways either. The armrest he and I shared - it was his. Any attempts to get my arm anywhere on it ended with him pushing me off. My lap was his personal newspaper page holder and he apparently suffered from testicular elephantitis - why else would he have needed to sit so that his right leg was stretched out in front of my seat? It was great. Even better was that the plane was not moving at all. For 40 minutes we just sat there on the airfield, rolled a little every now and then, but didn't go anywhere. There were no announcements either and I was talking to my husband about that when I heard mumbling from the side. I turned to the man and asked him if he had said something to me. He looked and me and said that he had not said a word. I shrugged it off and turned back to my husband. More, louder, mumbling. I turned to the man again and asked him once more if he was talking to me and said that I had a hard time understanding him. Again he answered that he had not said anything at all. I told him that I had definitely heard him speak (so had my husband by the way), that I just wasn't sure if he was speaking to me. To which he replied (with a broad Berlin accent) that I was annoying him and a stupid cow (yes, he really called me that) and that we should all get up and find ourselves some other seats. Let's just say that after the morning I had had it was definitely not a good idea for him to be speaking to me that way. I let him know (in the most polite words of course) that his opinion really mattered to me and that I was taking the matter to heart and would absolutely change everything about me, because the voice that supposedly wasn't his told me so. I don't know if it was what I said or how I said it, but I made enough of an impression for him to back off: no more fighting over the armrest, no more newspaper in my lap and no more mumbling. Soon after that we took off and once we were well up in the air I actually did go to the flight attendants, told them what had happened and asked if we could get other seats. I made sure to speak loud enough so that the people sitting around us could hear it as well. The man was visibly embarrassed, the crew very understanding and we got a whole row to ourselves. Even with Pontus now having a seat to himself it was a challenge to keep him quiet and entertained during the flight. Children that age do not want to sit still - they want to run around, grab and shred people's magazines, pull airsickness bags over their heads, kick against the backrest of the seat in front of them or hit people with safety instruction cards. The only thing we had to offer was snacks and we tried hard to muffle all sounds by keeping the food coming, but it didn't really work as well as we had hoped. It was a loooong flight...

By the time we arrived in Berlin it felt like we had been travelling for days and aged years in the process, even though it was not even noon. My friend Sarah picked us up at the airport and we got on the bus to Bahnhof Zoo. And who do you think my husband wound up sitting beside on that very bus? Indeed, it was the elderly business traveller. But this time he was smart (or scared?) enough to keep quiet and we made it to Bahnhof Zoo without further problems.

From Bahnhof Zoo we took the subway to Günzelstrasse, which is only 3 stops away. When we got to Günzelstrasse station we had to learn a bitter lesson: most of Berlin's stations have no elevator or escalator. Over the next couple of days we found out how big a problem that really was. There's several flights of stairs, there's your big suitcase, your child in its stroller and let's just say that if you don't look like Arnold or Jean-Claude when you get to Berlin, you damn sure will when you leave. My poor husband...

We found the appartment without any problems and were greeted by our landlord. He showed us around, collected the rest of the rent and then delivered a disturbing monologue about how much he liked Sweden, how superior he thought Sweden's school and social welfare system was and that he considered himself a "swedophile". Yes, that's right, "swedophile".
When looking for appartments I had chosen the one we now stayed at not only because of its proximity to downtown Berlin, but also because the description said that it was equipped with a highchair and a baby crib. The highcair I saw, but the crib was nowhere to be found. When I asked the landlord about this he pointed at the pull-out-couch in the living room and said that that was the children's bed. I tried to explain that there was a clear difference between a crib and a hide-a-bed sofa (both in name and in function), but he claimed that there was no mention of any kind of crib for small children in the ad and that the couch was the extra bed. As angry as I was about this obvious lie - I was also too exhausted to start yet another discussion. It's not like that would have made the crib appear out of nowhere and where else should we have gone? Pontus would have to sleep between us in our bed with all the horrible consequence that has on everyone's sleep quality.

After the landlord had finally left we went out and did some quick grocery shopping, ate a little snack and got on our way to Sarah's appartment. There we met her husband and together we drove over to the Bahlsen factory outlet. Bahlsen, for those who don't know, is a well-known manufacturer of cookies, cakes and all kinds of salty snacks and at the outlet you can buy their products (and even products that are not available on the German market) at reduced prices. Cookies and chips for less? Give me a shopping basket, let me roam free and I will buy like there is no tomorrow. Unfortunately I had to hold myself back, considering the weight limit of the luggage and all, but I definitely had a good time. The only person who had an even better time must have been Sarah who was totally ecstatic and picked up each and every item in the whole store. Pontus, in the meanwhile, had fallen asleep and after we had taken turns carrying him around for a while my husband went and waited in the car with him. Factory outlets are not his kind of stores anyway and going there with me is an added challenge. I am sure it's not a pretty sight when I see all the bargains and totally lose control.

After we had each filled a gigantic bag at the Bahlsen store we drove back to Sarah's appartment where she cooked dinner for us (a really delicious wok dish with rice and chicken), while Pontus tested just how childproof the place was (not very, it turned out). We were all having a good time and it seemed like the day would end on a good note after all. But when we came back to our own appartment later that evening we found a piece of paper on the floor with a note from our landlord. On it it said that we had only paid for 2 persons but were now staying there with 4, followed by a detailed calculation about how much more we were supposed to pay and the request to get in contact immediately. Why no one ever asked us earlier I really didn't understand. We could have settled the matter and answered any questions right then and there. Instead we got this note which basically accused us of fraud. I called the woman (it was her partner we had met earlier) and explained to her that one of the 4 people was a friend who lived in Berlin, had her own appartment and was thus definitely not staying with us and that the second person was a 15-month-old infant. She got defensive. Her partner had only said that 4 people instead of 2 had shown up and that that was not according to the rules and... Again, why didn't she ask first? Why write a whole new invoice and demand money before getting all the facts straight? While we easily agreed on that one did not need to pay for a person that was not staying at the appartment at all (Sarah), there was more discussion about Pontus. She felt that I should have listed him as a third person and paid full price for him as well, but graciously "allowed my explanation" that there neither had been any information about that when I booked nor that could it be considered customary to need to pay full price for a baby sleeping in his parent's bed. We basically agreed to disagree and now I know "for the next time" that there is a fee for children (no matter which age) as well.
I took the opportunity to ask her about the missing baby crib and she said that there actually was a travel crib stored away in the appartment, which was a pleasant surprise for a change. My husband set it up right away and after a very long day we could at least let Pontus sleep in his own bed while we collapsed on the couch, dreading what the remaining 4 days in Berlin would be like.

Best of the day: Bahlsen factory outlet, Sarah's food
Worst of the day: There's just so much to choose from...
Plans for next day: Wake up at and be back home in Sweden

Berlin, Berlin, wir fahren nach Berlin (frühestens 2020 wieder)

We have just come back from our 5-day trip to Berlin and it was memorable, to say the least. Maybe it is too harsh to say that we will never go again, but there is a lot to work through in therapy before we would consider it. And that is not strictly Berlin's fault - the mere experience of travelling with your typical 15-month-old already did half the damage. We have basically decided not to travel anywhere again at all until the love and silence of our children can be bought with comic books and candy. I think 2020 sounds good...

For you to understand and me to never forget I will write a little day-by-day recap of our trip as soon as I find the time. Prepare to dive deep into the insane world that is family vacation!