Post-christmas euphoria

Hast du Etwas Zeit fur mich?
Dann singe ich ein Lied fur dich
Von 99 Luftballons,
Auf ihrem Weg zum Horizant ..

It's been a while since I updated this, and have recently been facing criticism on many fronts concerning my poor punctuality. Thus, this entry will try and encapsulate the major things that are/have been going on that you've had the misfortune of missing. This blog also has PICTURES. That's one for you, Daniel; I shan't be outdone on the internet.

As you can see the mood is appropriately German after my short break in Berlin, a trip that can only have affected my liver, kidneys and cholesterol levels over my language skills. The thing to say first and foremost is that it was FUCKING AWESOME. The whole mini-holiday can only have been heightened by the distinct lack of being searched at every public building, airport, and train station that we went into; vast improvements from Russia 2008. Apparently I no longer have that "Chechen Rebel" look that I was described as having a year ago. So - heres a mini breakdown of 4 days with the Germans.

It should be noted at this point that it was ruddy freezing the whole week, though inevitably the snow only really kicked in once it was too late to really appreciate. Some of us still enjoyed it when it first started though. Well done, Kellie. Well done indeed.


Its also worth me passing on an important piece of advice that I failed to heed this time round - no matter how many pairs of socks you're wearing, do not wear converse in the snow. Jazz, I'm sorry mate. You even texted me to tell me that. I'm sorry I didn't listen.

It seems the Germans have come across ingenious ways of doing food, ones that seem to take conventional European light snacks and say "fuck that, lets try it this way". Ladies and gents, I give you the coveted Bratwurst. Like a hotdog, but epic and half a foot long. Damn I miss those things. The other culinary wonder was deep fried potato, in a pancake shape .. with sugar? It sounds weird, but they were oh so tasty. I forget what the Germans call them.

One of the more general things that struck me was the similarity between Berlin and St. Petersburg and Moscow. Us being in East Berlin, crappy former communist haven of the Gods, a lot of the architecture was very similar. The main difference was that it had the vibrancy of a city like London, which makes for a strange combination, a very subtle contrast of European dynamism in depressing Commie surroundings. Having said that, some places we went look like the shit bits of Huddersfield or Wakefield except with more tram lines.

See, its a very very nice place.

The photos show a gradual change from 'British students on cultural journey around Berlin' to 'generic group of British tourists'.

Us storming the Bahnhof at Alexanderplatz. Note Dora (right) failing at the "East side" hand gesture and looking more like a mong than anything else.

Undoubtedly one of the coolest parts was the East side gallery; a preserved part of the Berlin wall where all the old artwork has been repainted. Its a fantastic thing to see.

The wall stretches away on the left hand side.

One of the crapper aspects of the trip was the journey back. It took the Germans 2 hours to realise that lots of snow makes a plane all icy and unflyable and shit. So we waited another half an hour to taxi about and be de-iced, and played 20 questions with a south african bloke, which was nice. The flight was spent mainly avoiding Pippa and Dora flailing, before we got woken up by earache coming to land at Stansted. Stansted reminded us of the reasons that Ryanair is cheap; it seems you don't get one of those fancy extending tunnels going from the door of the plane into the terminal. No, you taxi to about 100 metres from the terminal entrance, so we had to run through the sideways flying snow, past those diddy little trucks that carry all your luggage into passport control, flanked as ever by a pair of psychotic bastards with the rifles. There would be another picture, but experience has taught me that men with guns don't like this.

The return from Berlin heralded the return to long hours at work, where the hours are long and the tips can be shit. Christmas Eve was one of the most balls nights of the year. We worked flat to the boards, the place absolutely rammed for 6 hours and we had £3.50 in tips to show for it at the end. Having said that, most pints are in excess of £3 themselves, so a tip on top of a round of drinks at the Woodman Inn would probably put you out of pocket for the next 6 months. The monetary problems will no doubt be rectified with hours of Modern Warfare 2 or Nazi Zombies, geek that I can be, as they are the most frustrating and fun filled hours outside being back in Leeds without uni. Speaking of which, I have impending exams which I really ought to be working towards.