We were assured that the public transport in Berlin is either ‘perfect’ or ‘really really good’. And luckily, it is.
Despite getting up earlier than we thought we needed to, our slight lack of familiarity with the Metro system cost a few minutes of trying to work out which ticket to buy and how, and whether the amount we had left ourselves really would be enough. But as I say, luckily the public transport in Berlin is perfect.
They have two really good options ‘short trip’ (I think it said it was 6 stops?), and I forget what the other option was but it bought you 2 hours of rides. On either bus, train, or metro.
Which is quite frankly incredible.
It got even better when we got on the airport bus to Tegel, wondering whether our 4 euros would be enough, only to discover that the ticket we bought for the metro works on the bus – Alice had the ticket in her hand when she asked ‘How much?’, and the driver saw it and said ‘No that one is OK’. By that stage we had realised that we might be pushing a bit to get to the airport in time, so of course we were relieved to be able to just get on the bus. In Australia you pay for the train, you could pay for the metro but there isn’t one, and then you pay for the bus as well, and they both cost slightly more than you think they should, or you buy a zone pass which allows you to go a bunch of places you will never go.
Final check-in for the flight was 10.00am and I’m proud to say we made it with 15 minutes to spare. Due to arriving so late we got put in the very front row of the plane, next to an amusing man who turned out to be from Brazil, who informed us that Air Berlin uses Pulkovo 1 airport in St. Petersburg (there are two), that sometimes there are only one or two people working the Immigration desk, and therefore ‘to be on the front of that line, has no price’. So in other words we stumbled on perfect seats.
Having now 5 extra euros and nothing to spend them on, we bought some lollies and snacks on the plane, where they unexpectedly fed us lunch. Budget carriers usually don’t do that, and it proved important later on.
At the Pulkovo 1 terminal, we went straight through customs like a lazy wind and then came out and waited at the baggage terminal. Then we waited some more while no bags came. Then the Brazilian man said ‘This is Russia, see. Nothing works.’ Then we waited a bit more and the bags started coming, while a partially aggressive maul of a crowd formed around the small carousel.
Then Alice’s bag came.
Then we waited.
And then there were three. An elderly German woman who didn’t follow the fact that the pudgy young clerk wandering around with baggage claim forms didn’t speak any German and who had lost one suit case and had a big crack in the other, a German who kept muttering ‘Scheizen’ and checking his phone, and me. Wearing my Mr. Happy t-shirt.
After waiting for a German translator, waiting for the old lday to get even more huffy and puffy, and waiting for the German man’s Russian speaking friend to arrive, I had my turn at filling out my lost baggage form. They do it all in triplicate, then give you the copy with your baggage stickers, and also a customs form. I read something on the way in about declaring valuables so I out down our traveller’s cheques. Then the pudgy young man took the form away and got it stamped, and it came back with the traveller’s cheques scribbled out. Which answers that question.
Having accepted the loss, we found the bus into town, after some umming and aahing about whether to get on the bus. There’s no ticket booth and no sign of a ticket conductor on most Russian buses. So we just got on as other people were doing 1 or 2 at a time, and when the bus was ready to go a middle aged woman in a tracksuit, distinguished by being the only one on the bus wearing a bum bag, came to sell us tickets. I cluelessly gave her a 500 rouble note for what turned out to be a 32 rouble fare.
Thereafter we got off at Moskovskaya, caught the Metro (which is noisy and smells like diesel, but makes for a fun ride because you have to try and remember the Cyrillic characters and because it’s such a big series of jolts), and found the hostel eventually.
We debated calling travel insurance, but the insurance forms strongly implied that most lost baggage is actually ‘late baggage’, so we left it all for tomorrow and went food shopping. Our consolation Vodka (500ml) cost 118 roubles, which is about $6. The Russians staying in our hostel informed us in broken english ‘This good vodka. Good Vodka.’
Greg