Moving Underground

One of the biggest reasons I can never fully settle into this studio is that there’s no Wi-Fi. It gives me this strange feeling—like living in the countryside, yet right in the middle of a lively city. It makes me restless, like I always need to go somewhere, just to escape the disconnection.

In Berlin, public transport tickets come with a fixed price and are valid for unlimited travel within a two-hour window once activated. So whenever I take public transport, I find myself caught in the tension of strategizing. how to stretch the ticket to its fullest, how to fit multiple trips into those two hours, how to make sure every ride counts...

And every time, I can’t stop thinking about skipping the ticket. The temptation is real.

There are no ticket barriers stopping you from simply stepping onto a train or bus. It all comes down to whether you choose to follow the rules and pay or if you’re willing to play a game of hide-and-seek with the inspectors, knowing you risk a fine if you lose.

I heard about a website freifahren.org, where people anonymously report ticket inspections in Berlin, marking stations where an inspector has been spotted.

So, in this offline room, with only a trickle of mobile data to spare, one of my favorite ways to pass the time has become monitoring public transportation inspectors on the site.

I find it kind of fascinating. Strangers, unknowingly collaborating, looking out for each other in this quiet, fleeting way. I wonder how many people actually use it, how trustworthy the reports are. The map keeps shifting. New red dots appearing, disappearing. Signals flickering through the digital ether.

Moving underground, along with an improvised system of trust.

It’s a strange, small thrill, watching the city’s cat-and-mouse game unfold in real time, even as I sit here, disconnected.