Everwhere in life... (II)

It was E.B. Butler.
When I was sitting in front of my computer trying to work out when would be the best time to book my train for I allowed at least an hour from the estimated arrival time of the plane to the departure of my train from the airport. Next time, I won't be so careful.
We arrived 10 minutes early. Not that that should really be a surprise, considering the only time I have ever arrived on time is when we left 10 minutes late, and 25 minutes early and a totally unprepared Gatwick Airport being the record. Through the airport in double-quick time (again, no surprise), and I was on the train and arrived in Central Berlin before I had even planned to be leaving the airport.
So, just get the next train and arrive earlier? No. That is what happens when you book a super-special advanced saver ticket for half-price: you are limited to one train. I could have got on the one before I was booked on, and the one before the one before the one I was booked on, but no. I had to look after 21.2kg of unevenly distributed weight for nigh on two hours. At least it wasn't raining, so I could go outside and make the effort to watch some basketball roadshow. It was more exciting than the departure board.
Still, at least I managed to make Rendsburg on time, not two hours late like the last time I tried. The station is finally undergoing refurbishment (the local paper tells me it should have been done before I arrived last time), two new supermarkets have opened, and a few other minor changes, but other than those (and the weather), it was déjà vu allerseits.