I arrived in Berlin around five in the evening, stepped off the train and instantly remembered how overwhelmingly large the Hauptbahnhof is. So many levels, so many signs. It’s not so difficult to navigate, really, but compared with the sweet simplicity of Mannheim, it took a minute.
I headed through the crowds, glancing at the fast food shops as I always do and followed the signs towards my bus stop.
Next scheduled bus? Unknown. What? Okay, check some apps (both BVG and Google Maps). Nope, no scheduled buses. Alright, let me check alternate options like the U-Bahn. Nope.
That’s when I took a few steps out into the square towards the river. Police. Lots of them. But, no one was running and screaming; everything was calm. The sky was dark. The air had a cool crispiness; not enough to sting, but it was colder than expected.
Without any public transport, I decided to walk to my hostel; it was only a few kilometres away. Along the way, I asked one of the policemen what was happening; simply a political demonstration, nothing to worry about.
The walk was faster than I thought, though I ambled through Berlin enjoying life in the city rather than speeding through the streets. Though, I will say I was irked that I wasn’t making use of the public transport included in my Berlin Welcome Card.
[…] to the 1970s. While rooting through, I stumbled on an issue featuring stories and photos from both East and West Berlin in 1983. There was no leaving that behind – along with one on Estonia from 1980 and an issue […]