BER - the largest mousetrap in the world

... the French pilot was right and actually kept the predicted flight time exactly. After exactly 7 hours of flight time, we landed in Paris. We had already taken off at 8:20 pm, but due to the time difference, it was already Friday morning at 9:20 am. Enough time for us to relax a bit. I couldn't sleep on the plane, watched 3 movies, and wasn't even really tired. Nadine closed her eyes for a bit, but we were still pretty exhausted.

To our surprise, as transit passengers in Paris, we had to go through various controls. First, the passport was checked, which I only know from entering a country, but oh well. Stand in line, eventually get to the counter, name, face matched, thank you. A few meters further, the passport and ticket were checked again. I wondered what could have happened on the way from the visible control point until now that required another check. Of course, nobody speaks English here at the largest French international airport, so there are no explanations that would make sense to us. We had no choice. The next officer confirmed once again that we are still the right people, with the right ticket and the right passport. Jackpot.

Next, we were directed to the familiar security check that is known at airports, a friendly assistant who didn't speak English showed us the way she thought was suitable for wheelchair users. We were just about to get rid of our belongings and put them in the designated boxes when the less friendly security officer at Box #3 seemed to indicate that we were in the wrong place. From his gestures and the mood, I gathered that they were apparently unable to check a wheelchair user here. He took one of my boxes and gestured for us to follow him. We didn't do that because one of the boxes had already passed through the scanner, and Nadine had already put everything in boxes. I tried to ask if Nadine could go through here, and I could go somewhere else and meet behind it. However, communication was not possible. The officer who was out of sight with my box eventually came back, and suddenly I was able to be checked at this counter that was originally assigned to us.

Now it got even more interesting, Nadine was asked in a truly unfriendly, almost threatening manner to remove all her jewelry. Anyone who knows Nadine knows that there is a lot of jewelry. In addition, some rings didn't come off after such a long flight. The officer, who knew at least 2 sentences in English, but they sounded more like military commands, became louder and louder. I was already 5 meters away and Nadine called out to me pleadingly for help. However, I was not allowed to go back. The way we were treated, and the way Nadine was treated did not make it easy to go through the security check calmly. In the end, Nadine did go through with some rings still on - why all of a sudden that was no longer a problem remains the secret of the local staff. As it took a while for us, it was also interesting to observe that this special care was only given to us. No one else was asked to remove their jewelry. We decided that we don't like France. Eventually, we arrived at a large, beautiful hall where our gate was located. I got us something to drink and some snacks, in the form of white KitKats - we had earned it.

After more than 3 hours of layover, we had 30 minutes of free time left before boarding, at least we weren't bored. When the first movement was noticed at the boarding counter, I went straight there and asked politely when we could check in. The Air France staff was consistently friendly, including this lady. I took advantage of the opportunity and whispered to her that it would be great if she could see if she could do something with our seats. We had booked 2 middle seats in a row and would really like to sit together. She said she would check. Unfortunately, the plane was fully booked, so she couldn't switch anything, but she recommended that we inform the crew directly on the plane. There are usually individual passengers who don't show up or cancel, so they could probably do something. Said and done. The man on the plane immediately looked at a display and gave us the hint to use the window seat next to my ticket and simply ask the lady who had that seat if she wanted to take our other seat. Hmmm, she would exchange a window seat for a middle seat, but well, we'll try it.

At that moment, I felt particularly in need of assistance and asked the lady who was coming after us if she would do that. She immediately agreed, and we were both very happy. Nadine and I had already somewhat gotten used to each other by now.

An hour and a half to Berlin and this report was almost over... Almost! We have heard a lot about BER, but now we got to experience our very own story.

For those who haven't been reading for long, I am a wheelchair user, but I can also walk a little with walking aids, and at all the airports I have been to around the world, it works great when I prearrange for MY wheelchair to be brought to the aircraft, I get on, and I move around the airport independently. I like that, and it seems to be not very difficult for airport staff, because I don't have to be pushed or escorted by a helper. But at BER, they have a different plan. The confirmed and explicit request to bring the wheelchair to the aircraft was ignored. 'What does it mean when a disabled person wants their wheelchair, they can also walk, because the wheelchair will be at the baggage claim on the conveyor belt'! Oh really! No, sorry, I can't walk that far for sure. All the passengers had already left the plane, our suitcases were probably already doing victory laps, and we were standing (yes, standing) directly at the aircraft exit in the gangway tube.

The Air France crew was very helpful, making phone calls, talking on the radio with someone, and apologizing repeatedly that they couldn't do anything about it, apparently it was the fault of the label (which stated that the wheelchair should be brought to the aircraft). The same label worked in Paris, but not in Berlin.

At some point, the Air France flight attendant lost patience and managed to get an airport wheelchair from somewhere. Of course, it had small wheels and was impossible to drive by myself, I also had to figure out how to fold it. He kindly pushed me up the 'gangway' to the airport building. He actually shouldn't have been allowed to do that insurance-wise, and I even believe him, but someone would come soon to pick me up.

Our carry-on baggage was gradually becoming a burden, and Nadine, being a woman of action, finally said, 'Never mind now, I want to go home, take the backpack, I'll push you.' It quickly became apparent how inconvenient these heavy and unwieldy wheelchairs are to move, but we managed, following the signs. Whether and when someone would have ever come to the pickup location there, we will probably never know.

Up the elevator, down the elevator, turn left, turn right, Nadine's labored breath became louder (I felt so sorry for her) - through a security gate with several automatic doors, then another escalator that was out of order, stairs next to it, and of course next to it was an elevator - which was also out of order. Now it became thrilling - we were stuck. We couldn't go back (security gate), nor could we go forward, and the lifesaving elevator didn't work. What now? There was no emergency button or assistance button, only a fire alarm, but that seemed disproportionate after a short consideration.

Since this is about the mission and not individual fates, Nadine decided to walk down the stairs and find someone who could help. I got stuck in my mousetrap. After a while, two very friendly customs officers arrived, apparently approached by Nadine. By now, Nadine was at the baggage claim, chasing our suitcases and the still missing wheelchair. Fortunately, we could make phone calls again, which also worked perfectly fine via mobile phone at BER.

The officer informed me that she had already spoken to a technician on the radio, and she had instructed him to provide the number of the elevator. However, the elevator didn't have a number.

So folks, seriously, I imagine an airport to have a technical control center somewhere, where there are a million lights that are all green, and if a light bulb goes out, or an air conditioning system is broken, then something blinks red. We have all seen this in many "Die Hard" movies... But apparently, these movies were not filmed in Berlin, because apparently they don't have that kind of system here. Instead, the customs officer was sent to search for numbers that don't exist... I don't know how long I waited with the two customs officers, but eventually, the door of the elevator opened, but there was no one inside and no information on the radio. A skeptical look didn't exactly increase our trust because all the lights were still flashing. We didn't want to get in there. A short time later, a technician appeared, who optimistically announced that the elevator at the end of the hallway, after going down the stairs, was now working. That's nice, but the elevators in Berlin all go from top to bottom, or the other way around, but not around the corner, so that didn't help us much.

Nadine called again and had good and bad news. She had our suitcases and my wheelchair, but it looked like at least one wheel was broken, and the other one looked strange too. Great... we're back in Germany, you can tell.

Meanwhile, the technician called again, this time he was in our elevator and said that it was working again. The customs officers were not actually allowed to push me with my airport wheelchair and were about to go look for Nadine so she could come back, which she also was not supposed to do. Fortunately, the young officer was more practical and said, "I don't care, I'll push you to the baggage claim now, you can't stand here forever." Thank you!

What I have described here in the last paragraphs only roughly represents the whole drama because the whole ordeal took a whopping 2 hours since landing. The problem with the wheelchair remained. It was so nice to see Nadine from a distance, but just as quickly, I saw that one wheel was positioned very strangely on the wheelchair, and my first comment was, clearly, the axle is broken. The other wheel also looked unhealthy. It is a mystery to me how one can handle an assistive device so carelessly, which the passenger carries not for fun. Fortunately, the first diagnosis was a bit hasty. I suspect that airport staff tried to somehow dismantle, fold, or whatever the wheelchair (what can and what cannot be done was noted during check-in), and in the process, they loosened a quick release on the axles (which should never be loosened), completely misaligning the axles and the track of the wheelchair. Imagine someone turning the front wheels of your car, one to the right and one to the left... clearly not what the inventor had in mind.

Since someone probably realized at some point that the wheelchair couldn't be dismantled, they said, okay, let's leave it like that. You can't ride it anymore, but we also don't know how to repair it. Now, I am, as I have described multiple times here, not a technical expert, but with a little patience, I managed to fix the wheelchair so that I could drive with it again and put it in the car, which would have been difficult in its original state as one wheel couldn't even be removed properly anymore. So, never mind, let's just quickly get away, we want to go home.

By the way, the customs officers also shook their heads repeatedly about the conditions at the airport and repeatedly pointed out the lack of staff. But that really can't be the explanation for everything in Germany. It must be something inherent. Okay, this blog won't change anything about it, but the BER airport will be one to avoid as much as possible for me in the future. I also want to mention here that my wheelchair obviously suffered irreversible damage, maybe one should attach a dashcam to such a wheelchair before a flight to document exactly what happens to wheelchairs.

Well, we made it, now we just had to get on the highway and go home. After some searching (our own fault), we also found the car. Nadine also got some fresh air, which is always very helpful in stressful situations. Nadine was already packing, and I quickly fetched the parking exit ticket from parking garage 2.

AND NOW PAY ATTENTION!

The parking garages at BER Airport are advertised as the most modern in Europe, you no longer need to take a ticket, the license plates are automatically registered by cameras, and you pay at the machine by entering your license plate number. As a wheelchair user, I had the privilege of getting a 50% discount. I was supposed to clarify this at the machine via a call function with an employee. And behold, it worked excellently. Someone answered immediately, I held my disability card up to the camera, paid with my credit card, received my exit ticket, and was €139 poorer. Still a reasonably decent price for 3 weeks of parking at the airport. Maybe I could have become skeptical when the friendly gentleman didn't ask for a ticket, which I didn't have, and didn't ask for the license plate or where the car was parked or anything like that, but I only noticed that later.

I happily went back to the car and Nadine, who had already packed everything - did I mention that she's amazing?

You know parking garages? There's an entrance with a barrier, here the most modern camera system in Europe, everything automatic, great. And then there's an exit. We quickly found that, went up half a floor, and there it was, the way out. Nadine had our precious ticket in her hand and was ready to insert it somewhere. But before we knew it, we were on the highway, and there was no barrier, no camera, no machine... nothing...

We could have simply exited without paying, and for those who say that it would be recorded by the most modern camera system, how? I didn't provide my license plate when paying...

I always preach that I like to follow the rules and that I don't think about how to trick systems, but this really is like a comic incident.

Quite obviously, they forgot to create the technical conditions at the exit of the parking garage, and of course, almost all casual travelers will dutifully pay their ticket before leaving. And now, dear readers, your loyalty should be rewarded... If you park at parking garage 2 at Berlin Airport BER, just save the ticket, I wish you a safe journey. Otherwise - does anyone still need a ticket? I have a prepaid one.

About 2 hours later, we arrived in Rostock, Nadine joyfully embraced her Tim, and I'm sure Loki still hasn't recovered from having his 'Mama' back. I started this report by thanking Tim, Loki, and of course, Nadine, for making this trip with me. It is not self-evident that I was able to experience this. Perhaps before the trip, we were very good colleagues. I hope that we will remain friends forever, whether we work together or not.

This was my final word, maybe there will be a summary in the future, but for now, this is it for Pearls and Pyramids. We brought the pearls with us, and the pyramid can still be found in Memphis.

Thank you for reading along, always stay curious, if anyone has questions about the trip or the USA in general, feel free to write us anytime.

Best regards,

Daniel & Nadine