BERLIN - It is noon, but the local bank's cashpoint is ominously stuck at 04:47, and takes no cards.

The streets are deserted, the shops closed; a world has run out of time.

There is no sign of life at the underground station either. The ticket machine set to accept deutschmarks pronounces itself out of order. No money, no ticket.

The Independent's quest for the first sighting of the euro must involve a fare-dodging journey into the heart of the German capital.

The stores there are shut, too, but there is some movement at the Deutsche Bank opposite Europe's biggest shop - KaDeWe.

This time the card works, the door opens. Inside several people are already backing away from a row of machines, examining their wares with suspicious eyes. "It looks rather strange, nothing like what I expected," says one customer.

With trembling hands, I push the card into its slot, punch in the PIN and gingerly touch the screen marked "200 euros" ($428).

The machine produces a satisfied whirr, and a collection of thin paper in different colours appears.

Flushed with success, I try my standard Barclays Connect card and go for 50 euros. Again, there is no protest. You can even get euros for your electronic pounds. Amazing.

Better spend it before those nice people in Brussels or Frankfurt change their minds.

Tiffany's at the Europa Centre near the Ku'damm is open, and does not turn its nose up at the new currency. On the contrary. "We'd like to ask you to pay in euros," says a sign at the entrance to the cafe.

The headwaiter approaches, and instead of the customary greeting, bluntly asks: "How are you paying?"

A discussion ensues, during which it emerges that the cafe will accept both euros and deutschmarks, but not a mixture of the two.

The waiter prefers euros, but then he is French.

We settle on the currency of his choice and order our drinks. When the bill is paid, he whips out his euro-wallet, and gives back euros and cents in change. Most other customers have to be dealt with out of the deutschmarks-wallet.

"There is no panic," he says. "But the first day is always difficult."

The curiosity shop Cultimo next door also takes both, as does the lottery ticket seller out in the street.

He has collected about DM100 ($109) but only two euro coins all morning, and would be embarrassed if a punter actually won something and demanded payment in euros.

But the deutschmark is already fading away. At Cafe Hamlet, Nina the waitress looks grumpy when that musty old money is brought into the conversation. "I'll take it as long as you don't try a large bill," she says reproachfully.

She is not having a good time. "Today is a catastrophe," she declares.

It is late afternoon now, and some people are taking their first tentative steps into the new world.

The underground station is thronged, and the machines are happily dispensing tickets for euros. But not deutschmarks, even though it remains legal tender for two months.

Experts predict that the old money will be washed out of the system within two weeks.

You can take the franc out of France but you cannot take the Frenchness out of the French.

The first day of the euro passed off in Paris - and the rest of France - amid great calm and in widespread indifference to the "rules" laid down by French officialdom.

"All small shopkeepers must try to give change for francs in euros", officialdom said. Why should we do the Government's work, said the shopkeepers.

Every shop, every market stall, every bakery, every bar in my quartier of Paris gave change for francs in francs and for euros in euros.

"All shoppers should try to switch to euros from the first day," officialdom advised.

"Rubbish," said many of the shoppers: "We'll get rid of our francs first and we'll come around to the euro in due course".

Rejection of the euro? No, just a rejection of the rules. French people accept the theoretical necessity for red traffic lights but that does not stop them driving through them often.

But for some the change is too much to bear. "You must remember it [franc] forever. I am an old man. The euro is your future, not mine," said Alain Palud, a retired computer engineer, aged 63.