By Sophia
The details in this story are true to the best of my recollection.
I always start a travel day wide-eyed and peppy, but when things go wrong, I turn into a bit of a pessimist. This useless anger inside of me is surely fueled by the stressful and anti-social air of every airport, train station, and bus stop. It’s easy to mumble and groan in a sea of mumbles and groans. As a coping method, to stop myself from plummeting into this pit of hatred, I constantly remind myself “it could be worse.” Delay? It could be worse. Wrong turn? It could be worse. On our trip from Berlin to Copenhagen, it just kept getting worse.
On October 29th Billy, Miranda, and I missed the train from Berlin Hbf (Hauptbahnhof- German for main train station) to the Copenhagen central station by approximately two minutes. This was probably my fault; I took forever to pack that morning. I put on my best happy face and prepared my train pass for the next possible train in the Deutsche Bahn (infamous German train company) network, which would get us to our destination within a couple of transfers. Yes, we lost €8 on seat reservations but still, we were going to get to Copenhagen. We boarded our next train towards Hamburg Hbf shortly afterward. There, we found our connecting train’s platform, grabbed a yummy lunch from a wok noodle stand, and sat down by our track to wait. The departure time came and went, but the train to Copenhagen did not. Instead, the train number completely vanished from the station board. At least there was another train coming, I thought, it could be much worse.
After an hour of waiting for our train, the station board showed that the train was delayed by 40 minutes, then 20 minutes, and then that it was not coming at all. The woman at the platform information desk confirmed our greatest fear: “Your train was canceled.” She sent us to the ticket office. Riddled with number calling, lines, and a depravity of all joy, I can only think to compare this place to an American DMV. Here we met the rest of the Copenhagen group, all trying and failing to get to Copenhagen in a timely manner. An employee gathered us in a circle and told us that our train was still running, it just skipped Hamburg Hbf, and that we could take a metro to catch it at the next station, where it would leave in 90 minutes… or did he say 19 minutes. It must have been 19 minutes because when we got to the station our train left before we could even find the platform. This was bad, our estimated time of arrival in Copenhagen was now around 1 am, but certainly, things could have been worse.
We got seat reservations for the next available set of trains to Copenhagen and acquainted ourselves with the rest of the weary travelers en route to Denmark. A family traveling together on vacation picked up some drinks from the train station store and tried to remain hopeful. A girl in their group explained to me that this chaos was regular for the German train system. There was also a young Danish couple trying to get home. They let me borrow their phone to call the hostel in Copenhagen. The receptionist, who was breaking up, told me that they would stay open until 2 am waiting for check-in, and then they would lock up. That was alright, we were going to be in Copenhagen by then.
As I hung up with our hostel reception, our group’s unofficial logistical coordinator, who I only know how to refer to as the Red Backpack Lady came running towards us from the information desk. This train was delayed indefinitely, we needed to board another one, that was about to leave from another platform! We must have looked absurd running through the nearly empty station: some with drinks still in hand, others clumsily clutching luggage. Miranda was still on FaceTime with her sister as she ran, and I was simultaneously dropping all my possessions and trying to finish a chocolate croissant. We made the train and sat down for a short trip to yet another connecting station, but the train did not budge for a while. This delay cost us our connection, and a station later we found ourselves on a cold outdoor platform and out of options. There was one more train coming that was heading for Copenhagen, and it would have us there by 4 am. Something had gone wrong every step of the way. My dad texted me the classic “it’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey,” but this journey was all around awful and exhausting. I was tired, moping, and out of hope. Could things have been worse?
While I was busy loathing Deutschebahn, Red Backpack Lady was busy calling Deutsche Bahn. Ticket in hand we witnessed her reading numbers in German and scribbling down notes with a look of absolute determination on her face. Meanwhile, the Danish couple overheard me break the news to Billy and Miranda that we would probably be sleeping in a train station. They offered up their couch. At last, our backpack-clad coordinator emerged with a plan to get us to Copenhagen by 2 am: We would take cabs into Denmark, we were entitled to compensation from the train company, and then we could get to a station that would connect us to our final destination. In classic cab fashion, our driver made record time, and I said a prayer for my life while squeezed into the back seat of a tiny car speeding down dark rainy German roads and through the border crossing. We arrived at the station intact, and to my relief, the fellow traveler who split the cab with us offered to send the cab compensation paperwork to the train company. It seemed as if things were starting to go well.
The Copenhagen group got a whole train car to ourselves on the last leg of our journey, probably because the rest of Denmark was busy sleeping. The ticket collector inquired about us, because everyone’s tickets were marked for earlier trains, and brought us a whole box of consolation treats to share: coffee, tea, caramel popcorn, and cookies. At last, we arrived, and it was bitter-sweet parting ways with those we had forged strong bonds of train-trauma with. We did end up staying in the Danish couple’s living room that night, and it was the best I had slept in a long time. After two months of sleeping in dorms and accommodations, there was something so comforting about sleeping in a proper home. Also, their couch was extremely cozy. We woke up to a beautiful sunny morning, not super common in Copenhagen, and shared a generous breakfast from our hosts, which included fresh bread. Billy, Miranda, and I agreed that it was the best bread we had ever had from a bakery, just a little bit sweet and still warm on the inside of the loaf. The morning could not have been better!
At the end of this epic saga of a travel day, I realized that it is in fact possible for every logistical thing to go wrong. I heard a rumor that our delays were because of a railway IT failure, but no matter the reason, all the odds were stacked against us and a seven hour journey became a very stressful 16 hour one. When things did not get better for us by ways of fate or Deutschebahn, what made everything better was the people around us. Their kindness saved our day in the end. I am grateful to everyone who helped get us to Copenhagen. In my future travels, I will always look back on their comradery, because the only way things can be worse is when we refuse to look out for our fellow travelers.
