It felt, after the initial panic had passed, that his whole world was about to come crashing down around his ears. It was bad enough that he’d left his rucky on the train complete with money, passport and change of clothes, to add to the woe he was in Germany and it was Sunday afternoon but the real issue, the bit that scared him most, was he was dressed as his alter ego, Bianca. What had possessed him to even think it was a remotely good idea to ‘bring’ Bianca on the trip?

Leeds, England, late September

“So we all agreed? Split four ways like he said?”

The last few months hadn’t been great for anyone in the room, the hospital visits, the uncertainty of exactly what ailed the family patriarch and then once a diagnosis was made, the Sword of Damocles hanging over their lives, waiting for the call. When it came it was at least mercifully quick, no lingering on the death bed so they were at least spared that. The weeks since had been difficult, the cremation, sorting out the finances and so on but finally the bank had settled his account depositing the balance into the ‘family’ account.

Andy gave a shrug, “works for me.”
“Sue?” his brother Pete queried of his sister.
“It’s what he wanted.”

The fourth party involved wasn’t of an age to be consulted on the matter, being Sue’s six year old son.

“That’s settled then, four ways,” Pete confirmed.
“exactly how much are we looking at?” Andy asked having not really been in the loop as stuff was sorted out.
Sue fiddled with her phone for a moment, “nineteen thousand five hundred and thirty six pounds twenty.”
“how much?” Andy exclaimed, it wasn’t a fortune but it was far more than he’d been expecting his father to leave them.
“comes out at just over four thousand eight hundred each,” his sister advised.
“well I wasn’t expecting that.”
“who was,” Pete agreed.

Bristol, England, mid October

It wasn’t that the inheritance was burning a hole in his bank account so much as he’d decided that he’d use part of it for a short holiday, a trip to the German Christmas markets, something he’d not done for a few years. He pressed the key to complete the booking, four nights staying in a budget hotel near Düsseldorf railway station, no point wasting money, after all he didn’t anticipate spending much time in the lodgings. He sat back from the keyboard and let out a sigh with an internal ‘thanks Dad’.

His siblings had always been better with their finances, it wasn’t that he was a wastrel more that he was unlucky with money. Each time he’d got himself sorted and on the up he’d been made redundant, three times now. The payouts were paltry and soon swallowed by the periods of job seeking between them. Currently he was just about getting by doing a few odd jobs but at the end of the month the bank balance always looked a bit bleak.

Even so, he was determined to not let the windfall fritter away on daily expenses, no this was a one off opportunity to act sensibly with his money but at the same time not need to scrimp ever penny. Of course being frugal didn’t mean he couldn’t treat himself a little, the choice of destination was heavily influenced by the location nearby of several model railway stores, something the Germans do well, the Brits less so. It wasn’t so much wanting to buy anything specifically but it was nice to know that if he did see something, within reason the money was there.

Bristol, England, early December

For at least the fourth time, Andy emptied his case. It was only a short trip, so whilst he needed fresh socks and underwear, he could get away with one pair of trousers and a couple of shirts. That wasn’t the issue, that was the other stuff. No nothing kinky, no rubber, chains or leather – well apart from the boots, but it was stuff more associated with his sister than his brother.

Yep, Andy, when the opportunity arose, liked dressing as Bianca, a girl about town, a follower of fashion but not a slave to it. He wasn’t sure where he was on the ‘spectrum’, he’d had girlfriends and the over the top ‘trannies’ you see in the media kind of embarrassed him. He wasn’t sure quite what the compulsion was but compulsion it was, he kept his hair long and had acquired some piercings more usually seen on the female of the species.

The issue now, with departure just hours away, was should Bianca make the journey east? Bianca had been out in public before, not often and not for more than a few hours, he thought that he passed okay ish, maybe a bit square of jaw but with a bit of makeup, no beauty queen but how many actual born women are? Clearly the Andy pile had to go in the case, ‘oh what the heck, I’ll take it, doesn’t mean I have to actually dress up does it?’

Decision made, everything went back in the case for a final time, a quick check that money and passport were in his rucksack and it was time for bed.

Düsseldorf, Germany, early December

Nine thirty on a Saturday night, Andy collapsed onto the bed, the mattress was a bit on the firm side, the duvet a bit thin but it was more comfortable than the sole chair in his room.

‘Is it only Saturday? It feels like I’ve been here longer.’

But it was indeed Saturday, of course the last couple of days had been quite hectic. To keep costs down he’d ridden the buses, well Flixbus, to Germany and to further save a few pounds but importantly quite a few hours, he’d only come as far as Aachen where he’d then caught a train for the last hour or so to his destination. As a result he was able to drop his case at the hotel not much after eleven – even if check in wasn’t until three, that saved the cost of a luggage locker at the station!

Whilst monetary matters weren’t his strong point, he could be almost too organised in other areas so he’d already got a plan for the day. A first look at the Düsseldorf markets, grab some food and drink then head back to the hotel to check in. A quick shower, change of socks and it was back out to visit the first model shop before heading out to the market at Ratingen on the tram.

The model shop was much as he’d remembered from the last visit, an organised coach trip with Dad not long after Mum passed away. He didn’t buy much, it was almost on principle, the shop on Saturday was generally a little cheaper. Then, with the daylight fading fast it was the long tram ride to the cosier market at Ratingen, the smaller markets usually have more atmosphere and that’s what Andy liked as much as everything else associated with the festive gatherings.

Saturday had been a whirlwind of public transport and smaller markets along with a visit to the second model railway store in Hilden. That made a bigger hole in his wallet than the day before, tempered a little by available space in his case. How come the stores in Germany manage to stock so much? He was always frustrated by the ‘have to order that’ attitude back home, often you just wanted to look at stuff, something could catch your eye, you see something you didn’t know about.

With a bulging day sack it was then a rail odyssey first to Bergisch Gladbach, then a bus ride to Leverkusen, which was a bit of a flop as markets go. Then it was back on the rails to Mettmann, in the hills east of Düsseldorf. He’d grabbed some food, a third cup of gluhwein for the day then headed back to the city thirty minutes away.

The TV went on for some noise as he contemplated Sundays plans. Bianca was still in the case, if she was going to make an appearance it would have to be the next day. There was only one outfit there, he’d tested it out the previous week for practicality and even had a practice doing hair and makeup.

‘In the morning, I’ll decide in the morning.’

Sunday was to be an ‘easier’ day, a trip out to Wuppertal, a bit of sightseeing, a trip on the monorail then on to a market in the afternoon. It was dry and quite bright by the time he’d eaten breakfast, there was no excuse not to follow through with Bianca other than nerves. Back on the fifth floor becoming his female self took far too few minutes, maybe the skirt was a little short but the thermal tights purchased in Leverkusen felt comfy and made his, no her legs look great at the same time.

She’d brought a handbag but it was a bit small to get much more than a purse in so the day sack was rearranged a bit, extra cash and passport safely inside. It was also going to be useful for carrying any excess hats etc. as well as the powerbank – her ageing Iphone ate power, especially if she took many photos.

Hair and makeup were next followed by a bit of jewellery, nothing flash, a nose stud and some festive studs in her ears. She had a plan to leave the hotel incognito, so it was on with the trousers then the skirt was tucked up under her jacket, a newish ski jacket she shared with Andy. Well its now or never, the trousers were enough of a boost to get her out of the door and after all she didn’t have to take them off as per the plan did she?

Apart from the earrings, it didn’t feel any different to previously as she headed to the station, okay she had women’s ankle boots on but under the trousers you couldn’t really tell. There was a short wait for the train which already was a few minutes late but there were hardly any other passengers and most of those got off at the next station. Time to put the plan into action?

A last quick check around then the trousers came off, the skirt adjusted into place, woolly hat swapped out and surplus clothing stowed. Her heart was going nineteen to the dozen as the train sped on, once she got off the train there would be no turning back. The train eased into Vohwinkel where she’d start her Wupper tour, she made sure she had everything then joined the couple of other passengers leaving the train.

She gave an involuntary shiver as she stepped onto the platform, it was quite chilly after the warmth of the train, the coolness assaulted her legs, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. It was a short walk to the Schwebebahn terminus by which time she’d become used to the air around her legs even if she did feel a bit self conscious of how she was dressed. And so the day started.

The ride on the Schwebebahn was an interesting experience, starting out like some dystopian future world above the streets before joining the river. It was a bit strange to say the least as the carriage swung out around the turns and even more so when it wobbled about at the stations. The plan was to visit the Schwebedrom, essentially a sort of museum telling the story of the monorail but it was a bit early yet so plan b was to get a coffee first.

She didn’t get a second glance from the few people on Barmen’s main street or at the cafe, maybe everyone was too wrapped up to take notice of just another body bundled up against the morning chill. That changed when she did reach the museum, when they realised she was English they became very attentive to ensure she got the full experience. If they noticed she wasn’t quite what she appeared she saw no indication.

It was now after one so time for the second leg of the days excursion, the train along to Hagen. A quick stop at the small Christmas market then across the river to the railway station, she looked for the line number, great just a five minute wait. Up on the platform, the board had a lot of text scrolling across but it was all, er German to Bianca.

The train eased in to the platform, a few people got off, a few got on and she claimed a seat and made herself comfortable. At the next stop she discovered why so few people had got on, the train was terminating there! The ‘Zug endet hier’ message on the screens she could translate, damn, she hurried to follow everyone else.

It was only when she reached the next platform for the connecting train that she realised that something was missing. Where was her backpack? In a panic she looked across the tracks, the other train was already gone, shit, shit, shit! Find some rail personnel, but there were none at the station the guy in the shop told her, she’d have to go to Wuppertal main station.

On the way she checked to see what she did have, phone, a few euros, her train ticket, debit card and hotel key card – that was it. The few minutes it took to get to the Help centre allowed her to come down from sheer panic to something a bit calmer, there was no doubt that she was screwed, she’d be outed by default besides not having any travel documents or, she realised, any way of charging her phone.

It felt, after the initial panic had passed, that his whole world was about to come crashing down around his ears. It was bad enough that he’d left his rucky on the train complete with money, passport and change of clothes, to add to the woe he was in Germany and it was Sunday afternoon but the real issue, the bit that scared him most, was he was dressed as his alta ego, Bianca. What had possessed him to even think it was a remotely good idea to ‘bring’ Bianca on the trip?

The DB staff were very helpful, checking with the train driver then suggesting she check herself as the train headed back down the line. But to no avail, there was no sign so with a sinking feeling she returned to put in a lost luggage report which would surely out her cross dressing. The staff were very helpful, picking up on her high distress level, filling out the form on her behalf.

Of course, she had to use her real name, Andy Jones, but they’d not batted an eyelid at that and after ten minutes the deed was done and they handed him / her a copy. It was only as she started the journey back to Düsseldorf that she realised that the luggage claim was under ‘Fräulein Andy Jones’, maybe they hadn’t seen past the flubbery after all but would that be a problem later? There was nothing else to do other than report the passport missing and start the process of getting emergency documents to get home.

Back in Düsseldorf she was able to get a charge cable for her phone which at least meant she could ring the Consulate helpline on the number she’d been given by the BahnPolizei. She managed to sneak into the hotel without being questioned and with a sigh, collapsed on the bed.

‘How could I be so stupid?’

I dropped a line to my siblings to let them know the score – well not the Bianca bit obvs, that was my secret, but I thought I should tell them just in case I needed extra help down the line.

An hour later and I’d somehow navigated the online government form, somehow my phone had let me do everything, even supplying a usable photograph. Luckily I had plenty of money in my account so whilst paying out £100 had hurt, it was done. In theory I should be able to collect the document on Tuesday from the consulate which handily was right next to the railway station.

Having not eaten since breakfast, I dressed into Andy mode and headed to the markets to get some supper and maybe cheer myself up.

I’d used an ATM whilst I was getting my food last night so I now had cash on hand and given there was nothing I could do to change things today, decided to carry on as normal. Bianca was back in the case, the only thing I was short of was a hat, well I had Bianca’s but that really wasn’t suitable for Andy wear, that could be addressed whilst I was out. So, after an unenthusiastic breakfast experience, i headed out for a day in Köln.

Maybe if yesterday had gone differently it might’ve been Bianca making the trip but whilst I hadn’t been outed, my confidence had certainly taken a knock. So it was Andy who alighted in Köln a little after nine with a plan that wasn’t all Christmas markets! First stop was to be another model rail store on the opposite side of the city centre so with a little help from Google Maps I set off through the grey morning streets.

The act of exploring the miniature worlds on display did pick the mood up a little, the small purchase made helping on that score. Then it was back to the central zone for a look in a store I’d found on a previous visit to the city, the huge Globetrotter outdoor store. It wasn’t that I was looking for anything in particular, well maybe a hat, but more it’s an opportunity to see stuff that you just don’t see back in the UK.

I junked the idea of buying a hat, 35€ starting price is surely taking the micky and my coat has a hood, maybe on the markets. I spent best part of an hour exploring the four levels of everything from scuba gear to camp stoves, tents to guide books. I was literally on my way out of the door when I spotted the rails of ‘second user’ items, jackets for the most part but there with a few pairs of hiking boots and gloves were some hats.

Well, it was worth a look and my mood improved when I spotted a couple of potential head warmers. At 9,99€ each they were much more in the price range I was hoping for. I ruled one out as being, well, obviously for a woman, the others were a bit more gender neutral, a knitted head band and a beanie. I couldn’t decide so ended up purchasing them both.

The beanie got the vote once outside, I hadn’t realised how cold my head had gotten until it was covered. Yep, snug as a bug, time to hit the markets! If you’ve never been to Köln markets you’re missing a trick, whilst there are sites along the river and around the inner ring, there are five separate areas around the shopping zone, Neumarkt, two in the Altstadt and one tiny and one huge one at the Dom. My plan was to do all of these, I had some stuff I wanted to buy gift wise and I’d pick up food and drink along the way.

So that’s what I did, starting at Neumarkt then down through the shopping streets to the ice rinks. After a stop for hot chocolate it was then through the Altstadt before stopping at the Dompyramide for some ‘lunch’ – well a sausage in a bun. The last, busiest and biggest market is by the cathedral, I guess a lot of folk only get to this one.

I was marketed out now, it wasn’t late but I decided to head back to Düsseldorf, I’d go into the city later for a last look around and get some food which is what I did.

I was, to say the least, a bit anxious when Tuesday morning came around. Having not heard from the consulate I hoped there was no issue with my application, I wouldn’t know until I got there. The case was packed, I had everything ready except for a passport. I set off for the short walk across the station to find out my fate.

Half an hour after arriving at the consulate I had my document, once you get past all the security the folks were really very pleasant and helpful. Now you must understand, I was hyper nervous, I would’ve said yes to and signed pretty much anything if it would get me home. And bear in mind I did the application in a state of shock on an Iphone, well you can see how things ended up as they had.

Yes I had a very fetching pale blue single use passport, the picture was undoubtedly me but somehow the name, instead of Andrew was down as Andrea, a single letter, adjacent on my phones keyboard, enough to confuse whoever put the document together. To me the picture looked like me but maybe I should’ve taken more care over my appearance when I took it, I could see how my hair in particular suggested female. Okay, not exactly a raving beauty but certainly I could see how the railway staff had thought female and clearly the passport folks did too. And there where it should say M was an F – according to HM Government I was female!

To be honest, I hadn’t even realised the error until I was outside, the folk in the consulate hadn’t questioned it, its not like I was dressed very manly, plenty of women wear trousers and quilted jackets this time of year. Should I go back in to get things put right? Well of course I should but what’s the harm?

Well I had a legal document to get past immigration at Calais, best collect my case and start that journey.

As on the outward journey, Aachen was to be my coach pick up point, given I was, for today at least, officially female I had thought to change into Bianca, no Andrea mode but thought that I’d stay safe in my androgynous comfort zone. The coach wasn’t leaving until eight in the evening so when I arrived at Aachen a little after lunch, I had time for one last Christmas market. Well market and model shop, look its a weakness, I’ll admit it but I had plenty of time and according to Google it was a matter of yards from the market.

It was decidedly chilly as I explored the first bit of market, the railway store was a warm refuge for thirty minutes, I had to buy something of course, maybe not what I wanted to but my case was bulging as it was. Then it was back to the festive stalls outside, the crowds growing as the afternoon progressed. I did find a last few gifts for my nephew and siblings – I know Sue is partial to Aachen Printen so that was an easy buy – well after I decided what variety from which shop.

As darkness approached I sought succour in the Ratskellerhaus, perching myself at a table for a beer then deciding to get a meal – my next opportunity would be the ferry at silly in the morning. Other than breakfast it was the first proper sit down meal since I arrived in Germany on Friday, whilst I’ve enjoyed the wide variety of German ‘street food’ there is nothing quite like relaxing over a plate of Wiener Schnitzel in a cosy historic bar. I thought I’d best let my family know that everything was okay so I rattled off a quick text message;

‘got temp passport, should arrive London Vic @ 8am Andy’

I’d left the case at the railway station so once sated I headed back there, l still with three hours to get to the coach stop. Of course I had to fit my latest purchases into the case which was already rammed which is when it occurred to me that wearing my Bianca / Andrea outfit would free up a little extra space. There was a disabled loo next to the luggage lockers, I could use that to change et voila, my passport said F so no one had need to question my attire right.

Okay, I probably hadn’t thought it through very well, it was damn cold waiting for that coach turn up. Indeed dressed in a skirt and tights, bra and knickers, jewellery affixed and ankle boots on, it was less than ideal and as a lone ‘woman’, I felt a bit, well I guess you could call it anxious. It was with a sigh of relief that I took my seat, delight when I realised I had the two seats to myself for the trip back to London.

I awoke with a start, I’d managed to get a bit of sleep between stops as we transited the Netherlands, Belgium and France to reach the Channel but now we were slowing amongst the well lit roadways on the approach to Calais Port. I hadn’t bothered doing a full makeup job back in Aachen so, as we waited to check in I pulled out my meagre supplies from my hand bag. I’m not exactly expert at it but the basics, mascara, a sweep of eye shadow and a coat of lipstick I can manage, I’d just finished when we pulled up at the Border control.

If you’ve not travelled by coach through Calais in recent years, its all changed since Brexit. First off you have to do a rather pointless airport style security check, you could leave anything on the bus after all. Then its queue up to get your passport stamped, I nervously waited my turn clutching my unusual paperwork which of course caused some delay as they apparently hadn’t seen a temporary document before.

Anyway it got stamped and I followed my fellow passengers through to the UK Border Control. This is it, I’m dressed in a skirt, wearing makeup with a document that states I’m Andrea Jones, will I pass muster or be hauled off to some dark dungeon? At least the chap here recognised the pale blue cover for what it was.

“That’s fine miss, we hang on to this now.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep welcome back to England.”
“Er thanks.”

I must admit that I felt quite a few emotions as I walked out to await the bus, elation that I’d got through without any issues but at the same time bereft that my £100 passport had been in my possession for something less than eighteen hours and I now had no ID whatsoever. Maybe I hadn’t needed to gild the lily by dressing up and putting on the slap, or maybe it had helped. Oh well, guess I’ll never know.

The coach was cleared and we all piled back on, we were about to depart when one of the Border Control people stopped us and came to the door.

“Andrea Jones?”

Sugar. I raised my arm, “here.”

The chap actually smiled as he climbed on board.

“You’d best have this,” he offered a couple of sheets of A4, “a copy of your passport and a cover note in case you get stopped on the other side.”
“Er thanks,” I managed.
“You’re welcome miss, safe journey home.”
“Thanks.”

I’m sure the rest of the bus wondered what was going on but I’m sure I was soon forgotten as we set off for the loading lanes.

It was only as the coach approached London some four hours later that I thought about how I was dressed. For much of the crossing and most of the journey up from Dover I’d been asleep or at least dozing and my attire hadn’t crossed my mind but now as we arrived in the capital I had no need, if there ever was one, to appear as Andrea. I formulated a plan, I had a couple of hours before my onward connection so I’d do the reverse of Aachen, slip into a disabled loo, return to Andrew, Andy mode, my secret would be safe, no one should ever know about Andrea.

It seemed to take an age to cover the last few miles, I must admit to savouring my last few minutes dressed as my alter ego but all good things must end. Okay, it wouldn’t have been my first choice scenario but it was what it was. The coach reached the terminus and I joined the exodus to collect my case and look for a suitable changing room.

To be honest, I nearly jumped out of my skin when a familiar voice called my name.

“Andy?”

And there, not ten feet away stood both my siblings and nephew, I guess I have more than a little explaining to do.

Leeds, England, 25th December

I fiddled with the hem of my skirt, as we waited for young Harry to return from the bathroom so we could do the presents.

“You know the other week, at the coach station, how did you guys know it was me?”
“Simple sis,” Sue started, “who else would be pulling a lime green case with ‘I love Yorkshire’ stickers all over it?”
Pete chimed in, “and you could be Sue’s twin, well if we could get her in a dress.”
“Hey!” my sister swatted at Pete’s arm.
“Get who in a dress?” Harry asked as only six year olds can.
"your mother,"Pete told him.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “she’d be as pretty as Aunty Andrea then.”

Maddy Bell © 18.12.2024