Here, there and everywhere

Four walls to call my own

I am gradually moving from nummer 40 to 226, my more permanent home. For €100 a month I will be living in a tiny but beautiful room, complete with its own wood burning stove to keep me warm in winter. I'm terrified. But also enough of a romantic to play the part of the ragged student. If you fancy sending me love by snail mail, e-mail me for the address.

Berghain, Beers and Spytowers

Berghain, the infamous factory of Sound. With one of the biggest soundsytems in Berlin, three floors of booming bass and hour long queues this place will go down in clubbing history. The night here doesn't start till the sun is rising. You are unlikely to get in. What did I think? Yes, it is epic for what it is, but I'm really not sure I quite get it. I mean, clubbing on this scale generally. After two hours I was already feeling old with aching ears and feet. The place seemed a bit too preoccupied with its own elitism, and the hardcore electro can get tiresome to the bones after hours of bass with no twists or turns. Maybe I need to work up to the Berghains of Berlin. Go once.

A beer a day keeps the blues away. Here, it is perfectly acceptable to wander through the streets and onto public transport with a beer in hand. Totally standard prep for a night out. The local Späti are numerous and a half litre of "Sterni" will set you back around 80 cents. But the place isn't staggering with drunks, rather there seems a much healthier relationship with alcohol. You only need to be 16 to buy beer or wine, so I think you get much less abuse of strong spirits.

There is nothing better than spending your evening up an abandoned spytower. This place, Teufelsberg (literally translates as "Devil's Mountain") is contstructed on layers of history. (I really recommend reading the wiki article). A huge edifice of humanity's insanity it was pure magic to sit on the edge and stare out over the City, forests, lakes, and watch that blazing sun melt into a horizontal horizon. Go there. Or if (when) you come visit, insist I take you.

A bit of Britain in Berlin...

I am passportless. Not entirely sure how, but probably happened at the fairly eventful LunaLand festival at Spreepark. And abandoned themepark is a good place to have a party, but copious amounts of gin lead to losses. The week went downhill from there. I got caught without a ticket on the U-bahn (it was in my passport...) so that's another fine, my bike broke, I lost myself in a rainstorm. However, I did get to check out the Embassy. It's not that exciting, after a serious of security checks I was ushered into a dingy office with a crinkled portrait of the queen and a confused looking Oak tree in the yard. It could have tried a bit harder.

I think that's all I have that you'll be interested in. I've had more people coming to stay, every day meeting new people, slowly tuning into this new language, new world.

Speak soon!

Tschussi

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