It's not possible.

Perhaps one day I'll get to Prague but not this summer it seems.

I had a ticket, I had spent over an hour queuing for the ticket. I arrived at the station in good time all prepared and when eventually the platform was announced I was one of the first there. Clutching the clutch of tickets (2 train and the bike one in triplicate) I located the cycle carriage only to be told, "it's not possible."

I dare say I looked confused. I showed my tickets, reservations, everything but the lady continued to point at a map and say "it's not possible" you must take this later train instead. After a while we established that an accident on the line meant rail replacement buses and so no bikes. Being a Brit this scenario was familiar and insurmountable but the German lady with three kids and four connections didn't see it that way.

I left her arguing and made my way back to the ticket office. I had been told the ticket would be refunded or exchanged and that the afternoon train would be available.

I took my number in the crowded ticket office and waited. And waited. And waited. 2 hours later I got to the cashier. I asked to go to Prague today, with a bike. And exchange the ticket. Guess what, "it's not possible". Hmm, in that case I'll have to aim for Berlin tomorrow cause, god knows I'm beginning to see that leaving it until rendezvous day to travel will not be a good plan. Guess what? "it's not possible." I was a little frustrated by now. And it was loud and hard to hear the unsmiling woman behind the glass.

I could get to Prague by getting the train at 5am but after that I'd have to hope luck was on my side cause she couldn't help me more. Not a chance.

At this point I confess I gave up hope. I asked if I could carry my bike in a bag on the night train to Berlin. Of course. Even a smile. Couchettes were ... but a seat? This, at last was possible. So that's what I did.

I went to tescos and got some (more) duct tape (never travel without it. It's a touring rule) a 16mm spanner and a hold-all. I had some food and arrived back at the station ready for my mission. I arranged myself in the left luggage station. I packed the contents of my panniers into the hold-all and the panniers themselves into each other. Then I got to work on Nordie. Peddles and wheels off, racks off, seat down, handlebars down and turned. Let the wrapping begin. Using the handy ground sheet, my sleeping mat and a whole roll of tape I now had a big black parcel. I attached handles and sat down to wait.

I got on the train with some difficulty and the help as ever, of a passer by. I put my bags in the compartment but lack of space meant the bike remained in the corridor. I chatted to the German and Hungarian girls I shared the carriage with and at last, off we went.

The Hungarian ticket conductor managed to live up to stereotype. "What is this?" he asked the Hungarian girl. She explained and I defended my baggage as she translated. I had been told it was ok. I had not known of a luggage allowance. No of course I didn't have a ticket for it.

Eventually he gave me a cryptic look and went away to 'think about it'. I'm not sure how long he pondered the person with luggage problem but he did pass the carriage every now and then to attempt a look of intimidation. He might have done more but I fell asleep. At two in the morning our tickets were checked again by the Czech conductor. This time no mention of the bag (to be fair, people were sleeping in the corridor so I don't think the complaint that it blocked the way was valid by now). At 7am a final (German) ticket check again produced no complaints and at 10 (almost an hour late) I arrived here in Berlin.

I got all my acceptable and unacceptable luggage off the train and set up a work station there on the platform. It took a while and Greasemonkeys are right, those front panniers are a bugger to fit but eventually, Nordie was saddled up and ready to go.

Breakfast had, I took myself and my downloaded google maps to the hotel Only google maps got me lost - they sent me down the wrong street for 3km. Luckily I had booked the hotel and I had been here before and I was fairly sure the instructions were dodgy. So I followed - as one is told to with waking instructions - with caution and located the Lonely Planet phone map instead.

After 24 hours of stations and trains I arrived at the hotel. I checked in, washed away the travel grime and settled down with a glass of wine and my first Olympic coverage of the games.