DAY 1: MONDAY 14/01/13

Berlin. Once branded as a shady hub for the underground scene, Berlin is currently experiencing a hype which will no doubt see it revel in its new found reputation as a buzzing, modern and friendly city.

A severe fear of flying has hindered my experiences recently, but the opportunity to visit Berlin during Fashion Week was definitely the incentive that pushed me onto the plane at Heathrow.

You could call it an early start, but boarding the coach in Nottingham at 1am was definitely a wakeup call. The trek down to the coach saw a coating of thick snowflakes falling; perhaps a hint at what was to come over in Germany. We finally reached Berlin at 10am (German time) after leaving Heathrow at 7. The snowfall that greeted us as we landed felt almost like a home from home, and after waiting around for hours, something that always seems to happen when you travel in a huge group, we left the airport to face the bitter cold. So we were warned it would be cold, but I have never experienced anything like the minus temperatures we received that week. It’s safe to say my wardrobe selection was slightly underprepared for -10, so the only two jumpers I cleverly decided to take seemed to form the basis of my outfit most days.

After a deprived and coach based sleep the previous night, myself and my friends Matt, Ellie and Becca decided not to nap when we reached the hostel, but to push through the day and have an early night instead. With a slight resemblance to the Michelin man due to our layering technique, we embraced the snow and decided to get our bearings, exploring the nearest roads following a paper city map supplied by the hostel.

After our first two days in Berlin, we had lists of restaurants and cafes we wanted to eat at, but hungry, tired and cold, Monday afternoon led us to the nearest English-speaking food place we could find. Cue odd Italian restaurant run by a German speaking Italian man, featuring a delightful centrepiece on the back wall. Really warming, as you can probably imagine.

Exhausted, we had retreated back to the warmth of the hostel by 7pm, accompanied by some German snacks picked up specifically in the corner shop. Our collective aim as a group required us to try something new every single day, and tonight was the turn of the Bugle crisps. Successful choice it seemed: the craving for Bugles continued to haunt us for the rest of the trip. 

Flat out by 8pm.