The Jetpacker

New Year’s Eve is like a martini of anxiety, excitement and optimism that’s stirred at a feverish pace for the entire day. And come midnight, everyone downs it in one throat-scorching, eye-bulging gulp.

This year, we drank the martini in Berlin… and it was dirty one.

On the morning of December 31st, our last day in Berlin, we woke up before our alarm could annoy us into consciousness, eager for the clock to tick faster. Fireworks were already cracking the airwaves outside our hotel (actually, they started a few days ago, but we’ll tell you more about that in other posts about our time in Berlin). People were flooding into shops and mini-marts until they were drowning in the liquor isles. Dumpsters were filled with bad memories of 2009 until they vomited onto the sidewalk.

There was a palpable energy that coursed through every street as if they were the veins of the city, pulsing with adrenaline.

The epicenter of this party is on Strasse des 17 Juni, the famous stretch of boulevard that extends from the Victory Column to the city’s most famous landmark, Brandenburg Gate.

Over a million people converge on this quarter-mile celebration to dance in tents blasting Euro-pop and techno, drink potentially life-threatening amounts of alcohol in the beer gardens, eat potentially heart-stopping amounts of sausage and fried foods, and mingle with uninhibited partiers from around the world.

But getting there was a challenge.

You know the phrase “Go out with a bang”? Berliners take idea this to a whole new level. The closest we’ve ever been to a war zone is playing a videogame called “Call of Duty 2″, but we think the walk from our hotel to the party may be similar to what it’s like in the crossfire of battle.

We had to duck, dodge and dart past fireworks being launched by drunks into streams of people walking along the streets. Alcohol and fireworks is a combination so dangerous you wouldn’t even find it on a hole-in-the-wall Chinese take-out menu.

But these weren’t your run-of-the-mill flashy, pretty, sparkly fireworks. No, these fireworks were simple flashes of white light that also made the loudest bang we’ve ever heard.

At one point someone threw a firework that looked like a small stick of dynamite into a doorway that Jackie and I were walking by. When that thing exploded, it rumbled through our bones and left our ears ringing.

It was a serious test of courage. And sanity. I mean, it takes a significant lack of rational thinking to continue on the journey and not retreat to the confines of a well-fortified hotel room.

Eventually we merged into a river of people heading for the celebratorion zone. We didn’t exactly know where we were going, but we felt safer in such a large group so we didn’t care.

Of course, aimlessly following people who also don’t know where they’re going leads to foolish mistakes like walking around random buildings in search of an entrance to the party street.

Finally, we passed through a gate patrolled by cops inspecting people’s bags and trudged through three inches of slippery, mushy snow, often hopping over empty champagne bottles and fallen barriers.

Once inside, we walked the street for a bit before staking out a spot to stand in to ring in the New Year. There weren’t any seats or benches, so a short, cold, metal pole to lean on had to suffice. Despite the freezing temperatures, the snow, and our boots being completely soaked through, the view of the Brandenburg Gate embraced by spotlights warming the cold night sky was worth it.

The last few hours of 2009 evaporated faster than the snow beneath our shoes. Seemingly without warning, a clock popped on the screen and the countdown began.

At the stroke of midnight, fireworks rocketed into the sky to herald the New Year. The anticipation had marinated in my mind for so long that I expected an earth-shaking display of exploding color on a scale akin to Sydney or London… and for that reason, I actually felt kinda underwhelmed.

I really shouldn’t though. Last year, we celebrated the New Year in Chicago with this pageant of mediocrity…

And a few years ago we joined the collective groans of a million people in Vegas when the hotels put on this flaccid performance…

So in comparison it really wasn’t that bad. I just anticipated more flair from such a vibrant city.

After the professional fireworks show ended, the locals took over the scene, assembling in front of the Reichstag to launch bottle rockets and set off Roman candles.

Unfortunately, we had to make our way back to the hotel to pack up for a flight a few hours later, so we couldn’t hang around to watch the fireworks sequel.

However, that might have been a good thing. Every time a loud boom made the buildings shiver, an ambulance would scream down the streets a few minutes later.

We got back to the hotel around 2 a.m., packed up, and headed to the airport around 5 a.m. And the party was STILL going in the streets of Berlin. So much so that it took us nearly an hour to find a cab and we feared missing out flight.

In the end, we made our flight, and didn’t lose any appendages to firework explosions or frostbite. I’d say 2010 has started off well.