The Neverending Journey

During the multiple-day ordeal of flying I kept myself going by imagining a giant bed awaiting me at the end of the journey. Little did I know that the giant bed was still a couple hours away once I landed. Delirious, I could barely comprehend a word of what Doug was saying. Bus? Tram? Whatever.

I landed at TXL on July 30th , but our apartment wasn’t available until August 1st. This meant two days at a hostel northwest of Tiergarten. I’ve never stayed at a hostel before and had no idea what to expect. From the airport Doug and I bought a transportation ticket and took a bus to a tram/train then walked at least half a mile to a place Doug hadn’t been to before. After a few puzzled glances from natives and a couple near falls from the uneven cobblestone we finally arrive at a nondescript building tucked away on a tiny street. There was some graffiti style markings on the side of the door with the words “Comfy Corner” which apparently was the time of our short term home. The women who worked at the hostel, one may have been named Paula, were from Belarus some miniscule country next to Russia. It was a blessing when we finally exchanged my Euro for the key to a room. By this time it was only about five in the afternoon, but after two days of not sleeping and barely eating I couldn’t care less about jetlag. I crawled into bed and fell asleep. I woke up briefly at eight when Doug insisted I eat something and brought me a Turkish wrap, we watched an episode of Mad Men and one of Jersey Shore--some things stay the same. Then I fell back asleep until just before seven the next morning.

So for those of you frantically texting my phone, I apologize for the late response. At that point, a call from the pope couldn't rouse me from my slumber.