Despite the room being quite comfortable, I have a pretty awful nights sleep. I blame this on the two pints of beer, but sadly, being awake half the night seems to be the norm for me currently. It’s made worse by the fact that there is no water in the room and I have nothing to carry water in – so I have to keep padding down to the bathroom and drinking from the tap. Water gets put on the shopping list. At least my repeated journeys to and fro are helping seal the words Ziehen and Drucken firmly in mind. (“Pull” and “Push”). 6am hoves into view and I head down to use the showers and have the usual fun deciphering the deceptively complex controls. This is made more fun by the fact the shower takes ages to warm up, so I’m not sure I’ve moved the dial in the right direction…. at which point it becomes scaldingly hot. This is also the point that I realise they don’t provide soap. The shopping list grows. I’d best add suntan lotion to it just in case the weather forecast is wrong and we aren’t getting a day of rain and thunderstorms.

I get back to my room and get dressed just in time for breakfast – or I would be, if I hadn’t misread my watch when I got up. In fact it’s only 05:45 and I have an hour to wait. I would absolutely love to blame the time difference, but I can’t. While I’m waiting, I review todays plan: Reichstag, Brandenburg Gate and Potsdam Plaza. And I should be able to get Unter den Linden in as well. I have tickets for the Reichstag, but they close in inclement weather, so I’m really hoping the forecast is wrong.

7am finally comes round and I head into the restaurant for breakfast, I hover near the door because it’s very unclear where to go and I’m in sight of a waitress who is having an animated conversation with the only other occupant of the bar. This is clearly the wrong thing to do as she turns to me, waves her arms angrily and shouts at me in a stream of unintelligible German. I explain that I don’t speak German and she rather abruptly says “Just sit anywhere”. Suitably chastened I head into another room and sit down. No tip for her, I feel.

I decide to go for the fruhstuck – of which, there are four. Not wishing to be greedy, I go for the second smallest. I am relieved I didn’t choose the biggest one, because when it turns up, it is vast!

There is at least a pound of cheese on the plate (some of which can best be described as “gnarly”). Although I’m a keen cheese eater, this is too much, even for me. I make barely a dent in it and half expect to get shouted at by Frau Blucher when she returns. Instead, she gets me a paper bag and I make up a cheese roll for lunch. I clearly misjudged her and actually she’s quite friendly

My Reichstag tour is booked for 10:15 and I have to get there twenty minutes beforehand. So, naturally I plan to be there for 09:30. The journey involves two buses and I’m still a little nervous about the bus system, so I plan on leaving by 08:30. At 08:00 I’m still in breakfast, so I pay, rush up to my room, grab my kit and head out. Just as I’m walking up to the bus stop, it sails past, so I make a run for it, and happily take my seat. I then manage to arrive an hour early.

I get off a stop early. This is, of course, planned, because it means I get a great view of the Reichstag as I walk up to it.

The tour only goes around the dome on top which, clearly, is a relatively recent addition to the building. It was added during the reconstruction of the Reichstag in the 1990s and was designed by Norman Foster – who seems to get everywhere, and design what can best be described as “weird shit”.

Oh, and if you look to the left of the Reichstag, that odd needle-shaped thing in the distance is the Fernsehturm. It looks quite small here, but the base of that ball in the middle is at 203m. This may become relevant later.

I have a roam around the outside of the Reichstag. Now, I’m sort of expecting there to be the remains of a bloody great wall around here somewhere, but there’s nothing to be seen. Oh wait, is this it?

I confess to being a little disappointed. Maybe the plaque can shed some light on it.

So, a fairly important wall, just not the one I’m after. I head on towards the Brandenburg gate, first passing Germany’s answer to the TARDIS.

Apparently, there is a line of different colour bricks to show where the Berlin Wall used to be. I can’t find it, but I do find the Brandenburg Gate.

The Brandenburg Gate is truly impressive, a vast edifice at the end of a long straight road to the west, with the Siegessaule (Victory Column) at the other end. To the east, is the Unter den Linden.

I then head south to the starkly named Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, aka the Holocaust Memorial. This is a remarkable memorial that covers a 200,000 sq ft site. (Yes, I fact-checked that because it sounded huge). It is simple, but effective.

It is bleak and solemn and despite the fact that it’s beside a busy road, remarkably quiet. I’m here at a good time of day as there are very few people around. I don’t get the full effect until I walk through to the centre. The ground dips towards the middle, and the obelisks (stelae?) get bigger. As a result, it’s like walking through a narrow canyon.

When you’re in the middle, the sound of the road fades and it’s still and calm. It’s both oppressive and impressive as these massive blocks stretch high above your head. I have issues with art sometimes (wait until I get to Barcelona!), but I can really appreciate this. I head out with a sense of relief and make my way back to the Reichstag.

The promised rain and thunderstorms have failed to appear and so I head into the security station, pausing to snap a picture of a …. thing:

I’m glad they said what it was, otherwise I’m sure some people would have used it as a bootscraper.

Entry to the Reichstag is free – but not free of a security check, so I head through with a crowd of people and head up. Masks are on and we get audio guides as we step out onto the Reichstag roof.

The dome is am amazing bit of architecture. It clearly doesn’t match the architecture around it, but somehow it works. Inside the dome is a curving ramp that takes you to the top and a huge mirrored cone in the centre. The audio guide is clever enough that it senses where you are, so if you walk on too far, it stops and switches to the next segment. I try to fool it by walking back down … clearly this has been tried before and it happily copes.

As you ascend, the view over Berlin gets better and better, until you get to the top, where the roof is open to the elements. According to my guidebook, this is to symbolically “allow for the free and open dissemination of debate throughout the country”.

Just as I’m wondering what happens when it rains, my audio guide illuminates me. The mirrored cone is hollow. Rain water is collected in it and repurposed for use in the Reichstag. That Norman is a clever chap! I start to head down and appreciate just how high this dome is.

The mirrored cone, by the way, serves a purpose other than allowing people to take cool photos with their reflections in it. It reflects light into the council chamber below, reducing the amount of lighting required both there and in the surrounding offices. Definitely a clever chap.

As it’s still relatively early, I decide to hike down the Unter den Linden and visit the Fernsehturm. I start heading down and spot a shop that allows me to stock up on water, the obligatory bookmark and a Berlin baseball cap, so that everyone will know I’m a tourist.

This is now into what was East Berlin, and there are some suitably monolithic buildings along the route.

For some reason, they’re more ornate than I imagined they would be. Some are a massive surprise – like the Berliner Dom (aka Berlin Cathedral).

And the biggest surprise of all:

The threatened poor weather has failed to appear. In fact, it’s sunny and warm and I’m keeping an eye out for somewhere to buy suntan lotion. I haven’t found one by the time I approach the Fernsehturm via the Neptune Fountain.

The Fernsehturm really looks insanely tall from here.

I spot a chemists and manage to stock up on sun tan lotion and shower gel. Great service – the lady also gives me some vitamin C tablets and a pack of tissues to wipe the lotion away from my eyes. I find a place near the Fernsehturm to apply the lotion to the skin.

On to the Fernsehturm. I decided not to pay for the 3D visual experience and just head upstairs, where I wrangle my way through security. There, the security guard asks me to empty my bag – which turns out to be quite embarrassing as on top are 2 empty plastic water bottles and a used tissue. They are followed by sun tan lotion, shower gel, charger and cable, iPad mini, Age-Appropriate Hoody… at that point she gave up and waved me through. At least we didn’t get as far as the cheese roll, which I’m reminded of as someone on Facebook has commented on my gargantuan breakfast.

The viewing deck is at the base of the sphere and, as I said earlier, is 203m off the ground. The lift is insanely fast – fast enough to make my ears pop. The views over the city are stunning – and give me a good idea how far I’ve walked today.

It’s an excellent experience and there’s a restaurant here. I don’t go to it – partially as I expect it to be insanely expensive – so I head back down in the ear-popping lift and find somewhere to sit outside to eat my cheese roll. It’s bakingly hot now, and I’m glad I’ve got the sun tan lotion. I decide to head back to the Kurfurstendamm and grab a bus rather than hiking back. I’m getting more confident with them now and love the way that they both announce the stop coming up and show you the next three stops.

I’d been told to visit the Kurfurstendamm by several people and to my disappointment it just seems to be an extended set of shopping streets. However, at the centre of it is the church that is referred to as the Broken Tooth, alongside it’s remarkably ugly modern replacement.

And then I hit my first major hitch for this holiday. I pick up a couple of t-shirts and decide to pay using my Capital One card. Now, this is my only credit card and I use it exclusively for on-line shopping. I paid for some of the airfares on it and I’ve got about £1000 on it to use this holiday – this includes the last hotel I’ll be staying at which is the only one that hasn’t taken the money in advance, and is the most expensive hotel. So, I get the card out and then suddenly realise that I don’t know what the PIN is. I can’t use it contactless, because I’ve never activated it for that. I know exactly WHERE the PIN is, I just remember it, because I’ve never used it. I end up sheepishly paying using my normal account card. It’s ok though, I can get to my PIN using the Capital One app. So I head back to my hotel to do that.

Excellent. Settle down in my room, having filled my two plastic water bottles from the tap. Hah – the plan is coming together. OK, activate the app. Oh… because I haven’t used the App for 6 months I have to reactivate it. No problems: all I have to do it put in ………. the FUCKING PIN!

This is manageable. I’ll call the helpline. They are VERY helpful and agree to send me the PIN – to my home address. I point out the uselessness of this. The poor woman at the end of the phone keeps telling me that there is no way they can see my PIN as it is under the “highest level of security”. They do come up with an alternative solution – get the hotel to take the money out remotely before I arrive. Really? My god, you’re a genius! Except I thought of that two hours ago, and the hotel isn’t answering my FUCKING EMAILS!

I’m now left having to pay for everything out of my account. Worse, I arrive in Paris the day before I get paid, so probably won’t have enough money in my account. Capital One are absolutely useless. It feels as though they have royally screwed me.

I’m rather peeved (as you may have surmised), so instead of heading into Potsdam Plaza, I head out to somewhere more local and end up buying a kebab. In Slough (culinary capital that we are), there is a shop called The German Doner Kebab (where, apparently, you can buy “Kebabs done right”). They do actually make remarkably good kebabs and I’m keen to try them in Berlin. Of course, they don’t call them German Doner Kebabs here 🙂 I go for a small one, and I’m relieved that I do as they provide me with half a cow and I head off to find somewhere to eat it. It’s very good, but like breakfast I can only manage about a quarter of it.

I throw the rest away and head back to the hotel, where I lie awake worrying about money.