We are up to pack all our gear and to get out of this airbnb. It’s a decent hike ahead to Berlin, triple checking that we leave nothing behind this time. We head out for a walk and breakfast at one of the many trendy cafés.
It’s a six hour drive ahead, there is nothing much to report from this drive, only that the autobahn is our savor for getting to Berlin before the days out as there’s some mammoth traffic on in the drive.
The autobahn is as fast as people say it is. No limit, cars casually going by at what must be 200km. It’s controlled well though, an unlimited speed stretch is then followed by speed limited of approximately 130km, this ensures people are conscious about their high speed driving.
We discovered kinder surprise mini eggs today #PartyInYourMouth. It’s the small things that make us excited on the road trips. We also learn that toilets cost almost as much to use as the tolls in Europe. In saying that, tolls are rife in Spain and France but not in Belgium, Holland and Germany.
Anton was desperate to find out who made the Socceroos provisional squad so he was happy when Ange made the announcement today. Can’t wait for the World Cup.
We arrive at our accommodation in Mitte, located in the former East side of Berlin. We stay in a brand spanking new apartment owned by two trendy mates in the fashion industry.
The advert does not replicate the property, there is parking, but it’s like dynamite and no it’s not free. It’s a live in, although only one guy is here tonight, he’s about to head out.
We are sleeping in the lounge on a couch, a massive one a that, bigger than a bed. And… the kitchen is a mess, wine bottles and glasses everywhere. It’s not dirty just a mess. A real bachelor pad.
We toss up whether we get a hotel but decide to tough it out at this late stage. A bad review will probably hurt more. Definitely done with airbnbs. This was our last pre booked one. Hotels from here on in.
We go for a yonder around the streets and it’s clear to see this is the Fitzroy of Amsterdam, all the arty, trend setters lace the bars, rolling their own cigarettes in their op shop woolies. It’s neat, safe and hip so we take a walk around our new surroundings stopping by a smoke filled bar to watch the Europa league final with a number of other locals.
We almost lose our way back home and I wonder whether you will believe me if I say I left the international adaptor in Amsterdam? Gee… I wouldn’t either!!