Back in B-City and the Sense of Belonging

I've been back in Berlin for about 48 hours. This morning I woke up in a sun streaked room, near the Charlottenburg palace and just lay there on the mattress looking up at the ceiling feeling super content. I'm one of those losers that loves sleeping with the curtains open so that I can wake up to the light and after 10 days of constant travel, hostels dark shuttered rooms and even my old WG room, this burst of morning light was the perfect post-travel treatment. I'm living with my friend Lotte for the weekend, which is WONDERFINE* because she likes all things Woody Allen, Gilmore Girls, Book-esque and lives near a PALACE. I mean it's a no brainer really. She also manages to rent an ENTIRE apartment for less than I pay for a room in Bristol, which makes me feel a little nauseous, but there we go.  

I was a little apprehensive about coming back to the city. Many of you will have seen my whimpy protests about wanting to come home and just wishing this season of nomadic wandering would finally be over. I have to stay abroad until Wednesday in order to make up the time for University, so travelling across Europe for only 5 days did feel a little bit silly. To add salt to the wound my bus from Karsruhe to Berlin was 3 hours late, meaning that I didn't actually get into town until 2am on Friday morning. I also no longer have any keys or any official place to call my own, which made arriving late a little bit complicated.  I got off the bus in a sleep-deprived Fight-Club-esque trance and tried to get hold of Lotte, because I realised that she'd only given me the Ubahn stop and not her full address. When I couldn't get hold of her, I tried a few other friends and when they didn't answer I sat on a bench and contemplated my fate.

Part of me was willing to just lock up my bag and sleep on the bench in the bus station, wake up at dawn and then find a cafe to sit in. However, my Grandma reads this blog and I know she'd be incredibly concerned if she found out that I'd been sleeping rough, so I kept trying to get hold of my friends. 15 minutes and a Mini-Milka bar later I was still sat on the bench feeling stupidly calm about the whole situation. The Ubahn had stopped running, which meant that if I wanted to get anywhere I was going to have to get a Taxi for a lotta dollar or a bus for a good hour or so. I reasoned with myself that I did at least know one address near the bus station and that even though I didn't have keys to the apartment anymore,  I could probably still ring the bell and grab a piece of floor to sleep on . I had to beat down the British inclination to not 'make a fuss' and remind myself that I would want my standed friend to knock on my door at 3am if she found herself without a place to stay. With that I got up, took a taxi, rang the bell, the door was answered by Eva Maria who laughed when she saw me and I made myself comfy on the floor and fell asleep. 

When I woke up I realised that I had conquered something pretty significant. For a girl who used to freak out if things weren't planned down to the very last minute, I had succeeded in going with the flow. I had made the best out of the situation and I did it all without panicking or bursting into tears. I also thought about how many people I had rung that night, knowing that if they'd answered I would have had a place to stay and even though my attempts were a little fruitless, it made me feel like Berlin had finally become another home. In some ways that's one of the year abroad's best achievements: to carve another space in the world where you feel like you belong.  I intend to enjoy these last few days in my new Zuhause, but at the same time I'm very much looking forward to 7pm on Wednesday evening when I walk through arrivals and see my Dad scrolling through the twitter feed on his phone. It's NEARLY OVER!!!!!!


*wonderfine is a Lotte invention and I am determined to make it happen.