First Class!

The train from Berlin to Hamburg arrived thirty minutes late. Being an InterCityExpress train, I was considering the possibility of its 300km/h speeds making up the shortfall in no time. I was to be sorely disappointed, considering we somehow managed to arrive in Hamburg no less than 50 minutes late. I sat with my gemusenudeln, and read Mark Twain for 90 minutes until I was able to catch the late connecting train.

When I boarded the EuroCity train from Hamburg to Kobenhavn, I noticed that all the seats were huge, each with its own full-sized table. I thought I might be in first class, or at least in the reserved section. I walked the entire length of the train looking for something dingier, but alas, it all looked rather egalitarian. I asked the blonde-haired guy next to me whether the seat I had stumbled upon was reserved. He said no, and that he was intending to take the aisle seat. It was five minutes later that he told me that, in the course of my travels, I had in fact stumbled upon first class.

The difference? Nothing at all, at that point.

The German conductor began to check our tickets. I was sure I would be discovered. Fear crept upon me, but I kept my cool. I showed him my second-class Eurail Pass, and admitted, 'I might have gotten this wrong. Can you help me?' He told me,

'You need to have a reservation to be on this train. It will cost you €5,50.'

So, with less than $AUD10, I was bumped into first class. This meant nothing, of course. Until we were offerred free coffee in special DSB' 1 mugs, and special DSB' 1 bottles of spring water.

My companion was a Berliner named Michael. Despite being a student of art history and literature, he comes from a first class family. Apparently, he grew up with the understanding that travelling first class separated him from the common people. When I asked, he even admitted to flying business class. I then had the nouse to ask what would happen when he finishes university, and becomes the lowly-paid curator of an art gallery or museum. His response:

'Well, I hope the family money keeps going for at least another generation.'

He left just before we entered the ferry, which takes the train across the Nordic Sea into Denmark. At this point the Danish conductor entered the train. He took one look at my Eurail pass, and pointed me in the direction of second class, to an equally-comfortable seat ten metres away, with splendid ocean views. Sure, it was just as nice - but he made sure I was as far away from the free coffee as possible.