The alarm went off at 2:45am. I climbed out of bed, walked over to the bathroom, and splashed cold water on to my face. I changed into my day clothes, taking care to put on extra layers. At a few minutes after 3am, we left the house and walked to the Bruderholz tram stop in the freezing cold. Thank heavens for the extra layers.
When we got to the tram stop, I couldn’t help but smile. The tram was full. At 3am on a Monday morning. There were no seats left, and people were standing. We got on and squeezed past the standing passengers towards an empty spot by the window. I looked around; parents with their young children, elderly couples, grandparents, teenagers; the entire neighbourhood was here. Some were in costumes, others were in plain clothes. Almost everyone had their Blagette pinned onto the lapel of their jackets. Nobody looked sleepy or drowsy, not even the kids. The lady standing next to me had even taken the effort to make herself up: foundation, mascara, lipstick – the works. Dedication, I think to myself. Or vanity and insecurity? It didn’t matter. Everyone was there for the same reason: Morgenstreich.