I almost didn’t make it
I almost didn’t make it. We got five people before the front of the check-in line at the airport before I realised “this is my old passport”. I didn’t even say anything to Sofia, I just ran, bolting downstairs, out to the cab rank, and the first cabbie who locked eyes with me realised that we needed to go fast. God bless that man.
We flew through the Berlin streets, heading all the way from the south to the north (and back). My heart was 110 the entire way. We had a hard deadline at 12 before check-in closed, and the online check-in was borked. I haven’t felt that sick to my stomach in a long, long time. I was sure I wasn’t going to meet my beautiful new nephew this year. Sofia could be our envoy, but so badly did I want this trip to happen with me taking part.
Somehow, we hit green light after green light. I’ve never been so lucky. My cabbie was sure, “wir schaffen das!” (We’re going to do it!), and he drove like Satan, beeping at other drivers, swerving like we were being chased by the FSB. Every minute that was reduced on Google Maps was celebrated.
Entering the house was like a scene from a horror movie: keys shaking in my hand, desperate to save every millisecond. The key jammed in the lock, but it ualways does. I slid into our living room, threw open the drawer, tossed everything aside (I’m horrified to think of the mess I left) before spotting my prize.
The wonderful man downstairs had turned the cab around and we fly back to the airport. He gets me there with 15 minutes to spare. When we left, I was likely to miss the check-in window, according to Google Maps. God bless that man.
My nephew is incredible. It’s hard to believe a baby can be so adorable, but maybe I’m biased. I told my sister he’s objectively beautiful, but I realised as an uncle that objectivity goes out the window.
We’re heading back. I’m just happy we made it, that the I was so lucky to find the best cab driver in all of Berlin, and that maybe Christmas miracles are a thing.