Day 144-146: London to Berlin

Highlights:

• Torsten, EasyJet employee
• New German friend. Age 12 and 1/2
• House Music
• Alt-J at Astra Kulturhaus
• The ultimate Bucket List entry

Day 144
When I packed for 6 weeks around Europe, I wrote a list, set aside several hours and yet somehow came away without headphones, socks and, most importantly, underwear. On Thursday, very hungover after Dodgeball drinks and within 20minutes, I packed absolutely everything I needed. I think there's some sort of lesson there.

I checked in at Gatwick airport (through electronic boarding pass gates and after some chat with the first friendly baggage check assistant I've ever seen at an airport) and headed for some food. I felt adequately ashamed at heading straight for Wetherspoons, so I pretended to read the Cafe Rouge and Frankie and Benny's menus before slinking back to 'The Flying Horse' for some wine and Fish and Chips. The bartender 'warned' me that my food might take up to 10minutes to arrive. That was fine by me. I know if you eat food straight from the microwave it can be HOTTER THAN THE SUN. Better let that top quality cuisine have some resting time.

I'd been sitting for 3 minutes when my food arrived. Fish and Chips within 5 minutes. Hot fish and chips. Thank god for microwaves. I might have starved to death if I'd had to wait that whole 10minutes. 

I boarded my Easyjet flight via a tunnel. None of that walking out in the cold and boarding the plane from the ground for Easyjet anymore. Oh no. I sensed this was going to be a good flight. I picked a random seat on the plane before realising that Easyjet now have allocated seating. What's happened to this airline? It's suddenly become civilised, organised and not unpleasant. I was sitting next to a German woman before her 12/13 year old son swapped so she could sit next to his dad a few rows down. He started speaking to me in perfect English and after a few attempts at responding in German, I resorted to it too. I imagine this sounds patronising, but I'm pretty sure as a 12 year old I was scared of sitting next to strangers and yet this kid not only did that but also started a conversation in his second language. Impressive. If I were 13 years younger...This family were on their way back from London where they'd been visiting his older sister who was studying there for the year. With a twinkle in his eye, he told me he'd had to miss school to visit her...quite a sacrifice on his part. We took off after a funny introduction by Cabin Manager Torsten (Easyjet have started making jokes? This is mental!) and I watched this kid play Temple Run for the majority of the flight. We shook hands as we came into Berlin and I told him English was good. With a smirk he told me mine was too. I headed out from the airport to catch the train to Schonhauser Allee to where Gurk lived. It was snowy in Berlin, and there was a rail replacement service on the line I needed. Berlin; like home from home. 

Day 145
I did very little during the day. Aside from a quick coffee trip out and a visit to Netto, I sat in Gurk's apartment watching the snow fall on the Cuban embassy until she finished work. She came back for dinner and after some wine we caught the tram to Warschauer Strasse to meet my friend Harry who was staying at the Hostel Plus. Wow. What a hostel. It was massive and like some sort of Mediterranean hotel with potted plants everywhere and a 'super cool' (their words, not mine) swimming pool. Gurk and I headed to the bar to find lots of 18 year olds watching MTV videos and drinking sugary cocktails; we crashed back down to earth then. Harry was with a crowd, some of whom I imagine had risked hyperglycemic shocks with those sugary cocktails, though in his defence he only really knew one of the group; he warned us about two of the guys with a description that suggested they were embodying Dick and Dom. Stellar lads. They'd both gone to some sex spa whilst out there, paying €70 for use of the swimming pool, spa and sex workers. Classy. Last night one of them had slept with an insecure teenage blonde who kept coming over to us asking where he was. They appeared with childish energy and giggles and we had our first interaction when the guy leapt over to us having just spoken to the blonde, smacked his hand three times on the table gleefully, yelling 'what do you do when she tells you you've got a big dick!'. We left soon after.

We headed to a club called Prince Charles which was set in an old swimming pool. The bar area was in the sunken pool area which was still tiled over. We ordered a glass of wine and received BEAKERS of wine in return. We spent the next few hours dancing to House Music. Which apparently I love. House. I don't think I knew what that was before. 

When we were housed out, we caught a train back (they run 24h it's amazing!) and got a kebab.

Day 146
Gurk is moving back to London so is selling every single item in her apartment. We were woken around 9am when a guy came to collect a stand-alone clothes rail. Gurk dismantled it and put it in a bin liner. We were about to go back to sleep on her mattress without bed (that got sold last week) when we heard the comic sound of the bag ripping and metal poles bouncing down the stairs. For €3, he wasn't getting any extra assistance. We went back to sleep.

Gurk had to go to work (ON A SATURDAY) so I lounged about before going to join her at Zoologischer Garten. It was freezing cold. I was waiting a while outside Burger King before I became fed up with drunk men coming up to me (it was 1pm! There are so many drunks in Berlin) and headed inside to keep warm. The only people who come up to you in Berlin are people looking for ein feuer (a lighter) or drunks who I presume want the same but can't form words properly. Gurk arrived and we went to a really cool homely, unexpectedly spacious cafe called Schwarzes cafe. Apart from the slow service (because it was so busy) and the mammoth menu, it was great. Gurk says it's open 24h so she often comes here for a quick beer after she finishes work at 11pm. There's only one good thing in that habit. She ordered some sort of Kaiser crepes, deliciously crusted with caramelised sugar whilst I had ein Omelette. Gurk had to shoot back to work so I sat with a huge soup bowl of coffee, reading the New Statesmen, learning about the real issue behind the Horse Meat scandal. We're not cashing-in on British agricultural potential apparently. And we feed cows expensive soya, instead of the free grass.

We headed back to Gurk's apartment at 5.30pm to find her Canadian friend Sam waiting for us. Sam's in a band called 'Dear Reader'. We drank a Magnum of champagne and then headed back to Warschauer Strasse to go to Astra Kulturhaus to see Alt-J perform. I've seen the band a few times. I mean, they're constantly touring. Barely a week goes by without another Alt-J tour being announced. And they're not known for amazing live performances. They're alright, but not much is normally added to the music seeing them live. Might as well sit at home listening to the album whilst doing a crossword. The band came on around 8.30pm. Pretty early for a headliner, eh? They started with intro and played their socks off. They'd really kicked it up a notch. Perhaps fuelled by the enthusiastic and upbeat audience, or just having got the hang of it after numerous shows, but either way they killed it. The songs were much more powerful than usual and the formats changed slightly to fit the live setting. Brilliant. I've never seen them smile so much. After an encore of Tarot, the house music came up and rather than some gentle post-gig Led Zeppelin folk number, some sort of house music came on and the crowd went mental. It really was a great show.

Afterwards we tried to break into the backstage area. Sam's in a band right? He just kept saying 'we're from the label'. It wasn't working. We didn't know what label we were supposed to be from*. This guy in the car wasn't having any of it. Undeterred, we went further back and Sam climbed over a metal gate whilst I pelted him with snowballs. He came back defeated a few minutes later and a mega snowball fight ensued. It was 11pm and as we became increasingly soaked and covered in snow, Sam kept yelling 'no really, we're from the label! Seriously!'. I fell and whacked my head and knee but that didn't stop my attacks. Gurk took photos as we finished the battle with some snow angels. Sam used the snowball battle to resume his break-in attempts but some angry English guy saw straight through it. Sam and Gurk went to smoke so I lingered in the snow watching the tour bus try to turn on the ice. Twiddling my thumbs looking for something to do, I had a brainwave. I was on my hands and knees rolling the body of a snowman when a man came and offered me drugs. As a 25year old making a snowman on her own outside a music venue in Berlin, I must have looked like the perfect client. "No thanks", I said. "I'm making a snowman". 

Gurk and Sam came back and politely waited as I finished rolling the head and added some stick arms. I stood back, proudly looking at my knee-high friend. Gurk was about to take a photo when a new item suddenly appeared on my mental bucket list. Without a second thought, I kicked the little snowman's head off.  

We briefly went to a bar called KPTN (Captain). Gurk hadn't even taken her coat off when some guy hit on her (presumably saying in German 'keep your coat on, love, you've pulled'). We left shortly after and got a taxi home. Gurk was worried he was taking us down some dodgy route when the guy announced that there were problems with traffic due to some guy called Mario Barth playing at the O2 venue. 12,000 fans were blocking the roads. He's a German comedian apparently. Gurk commented that she hadn't realised they existed. 

We got home and on thinking the snow had given my hair an exotic damp look, I realised I actually looked like a lion. 

*Infectious Records we later discovered.

Day 7: Berlin to Hamburg

Highlights:

• First dorm hostel experience (with a jogger and someone I think is usually homeless)
• Hamburg's canals at night
• Using German hostel computer. Hello unlauts ü ä ö Ü Ä Ö

So I left the safety of Gurk's apartment and headed for Berlin Hauptbahnhof. I used my finest German on the ticket lady "Ich habe ein interail fahrkarte aber, brache ich ein andere fahrkarte aus hier auch?". I must be convincing enough, as they always respond in German to which my standard response is a slight pause, and then "Sprechen Sie Englisch?"

Anyway, comfortable, smooth 2h train ride into Hamburg. I entertained myself reading the headlines of a German newspaper over a man's shoulder. Seems the Germans have their own equivalent of the page 3 girl in their 'Bild' paper; "Maria Wohnt Wieder Allein" (Maria lives alone again)

I made a complex job of finding my hostel (even with the free map I picked up at the station) and eventually found it right next to the train station I'd just walked away from...I treated myself to a congratulatory beer before heading out into Hamburg. 

So, a few interesting facts for you about Hamburg; 

• The Free and Hanseatic City of Hamburg (mouthful) has more bridges than Amsterdam and Venice (c. 2033)
• It has an overemphasised (if the number of maritime museums and monuments are anything to go by) connection with water and the Elbe
• Hamburg is massive (seven times the size of Paris). Per person, they have the largest living space in the world (c. 30 s/m pp)
• I think it invented the Hamburger

I walked from my hostel over to Jungfernsteig, which is on the edge of the Alster Lake in the centre of Hamburg. I was going to take a boat ride, but some quick research told  me I could save a bomb if I just took the public transport boat a few times back and forth instead...This was right next to the shopping district, so I tried to keep to the edge along the canal, rather than walk through unremarkable Mangoss and H&Ms. 

So, a slight side point, but C&A is well and truly live and kicking in Germany. They can even afford Cindy Crawford in their advertising campaigns. ANOTHER side point is the German obsession with sticking to the green man road crossing rules. There are some completely dead streets, but if the green man isn't showing, Germans will NOT cross the road. Apparently Jade Walking is illegal, and people stick to it. Gurk told me her friend crossed with her bike and was caught and fined €120 and 3 points were added to her drivers license. I'm not German though.

So I spent the afternoon wandering through the canals. There are some really beautiful streets in the city, and it has a nice relaxed feel to it (I think like with Berlin and Amsterdam, this is mainly because of the lack of traffic).

I came back to my hostel to freshen up and met one of my dorm mates. My criteria for booking this hostel was entirely price-based; it cost maybe 8 pounds (no pound sign on this keyboard!) a night. This woman was German and said her name was "Jurdy, it rhymes with Hurdy and Gurdy. Though it's hard to pronounce, so call me Jo". I popped out again to go see the canals again at night and to grab some food. I walked north of my hostel to start, and ended up briefly in the St. Georg's area. A quick bit of research after told me this was the gay part of the red light district, which explains the rainbow flag and the 'Men's Heaven/Erotik Heaven' shop front I saw. I turned back round, and headed to the busier, central part of town.

I came back to the hostel, had another beer, and then headed to bed for an early night. I didn't meet any of the others in my dorm, though heard them come in at various times during the night, and got a sense of their characters from the noises they made:

1: Big guy. This morning, he went out for a run, so I presume he's here slightly longer than most

2: Hurdy Gurdy Jurdy

3: A girl, friends with 4

4: Got undressed in the room, if the zip and belt noises were anything to go by. I thought he was also friends with 7, but I think they just communicated about turning on the ligh

5: Empty

6: Homeless man. He was asleep when I arrived back around 9pm, and I only saw him briefly this morning after he came back from having a cigarette

7: Suit wearing, apple crunching older guy. Seems pleasant

8: Me

It was a slightly restless night, but for 8 squid, I can't complain.

End of Day 7.

Day 6: Berlin

Highlights:

• Bauhaus Archiv
• Lambrusco
• Photomat - best €2 I've spent so far

€€

So Gurk took us to Charlottenburg Schloss in the morning, which is near the West End U-Bahn. I've generally avoided the Charlottenburg part of town since being in Berlin because it reminds me of Kensington/West London, and just feels a little too posh to have any character. When the Berlin Wall was up, it was actually part of the British Quarter, so it's architecture and style makes sense, but like Kensington etc, it just seems a bit bland. But the sun came out as we arrived, and the palace looked pretty cool. You can look at the gardens and the lake for free, so we had a wander through and took some photos. Gurk stopped for a bratwurst at the station, and looking at the horrifically colourful sauces  on top and the sweet sausage smell, I had one of my first meat cravings since giving it up in June. Pretty sure this trip is going to challenge my vegetarian willpower as I go further East.

From the Schloss (Castle) we took a U-Bahn to Zoolischer Garten and then walked to the Bauhaus Archiv. Public transport is really good in Berlin; on the weekends, the U-Bahns run all night and with weekly/monthly travelcards, you can take one guest with you for free after 8pm during the week, and all weekend. So, my U-Bahn costs have been pretty minimal since being here. 

The Bauhaus Archiv had been recommended by quite a few people/sources and cost €3 entry (Museum costs have been pretty low here so far). The Bauhaus was a German Arts School which covered a range of fine arts (tapestry, painting, etc.) but I think everyone would mainly recognise its architectural style. There were some models of the building designs that had come out of the school, and a few reminded me of 70s style posh pool parties in California. Large houses built on one level, with a lot of glass overlooking a pool area, that you can imagine rock stars owning. There were also some cube houses which aimed at perfecting use of a small amount of space for single occupancy, which looked similar to the cube houses in Rotterdam. It was a cool exhibition, and explained how the core studies of the school were about colour and balance and it sort of made me abandon my idea that art school was a bit pointless. I finished looking at the exhibit before Gurk (she'd paid for an audioguide so was trying to get her extra euros worth of the display) so went for a beer in the cafe.

From here we took a bus and then some U-Bahns to the Neukoeln* area (Gurk - 'It's more Kreuzburg than Kreuzburg'). We got off at Gneisenausstrasse and then wandered through the neighbourhood for a bit before finding an Italian bar/restaurant called Vicolo on Bergmannstrasse. Gurk is looking for a new area to move to, and this might have been my favourite area of Berlin so far. Loads of restaurants and cafes, and yet it seems quiet enough to be a good place to live as well. At the bar, we had Lambrusco, which we didn't really know what it was, but may have been the best drink of the holiday. I mean it clearly is just a red wine version of Lambrini, but somehow being served up in an Italian restaurant gave it some authenticity as a drink? It was amazing. The second best thing about this bar were the signs on the toilet doors; for the men's it had a cartoon stick figure standing up thrusting its hips forward with a line indicating direction of wee, and for the ladies' it had a cartoon figure crouching down, again with the dotted line indicating direction of flow. After a few lambruscos, this really hit the spot. 

I figured a classy way to end my 6 days in Berlin was to have some chips in a place called AraBBelly, and then a little walk from there, Gurk and I both found ourselves looking back at an elaborate looking bar called 'DRAMA'. There was a sort of comedy moment, where we both turned to each other and almost wordlessly agreed that we had to go in. I'm not sure if it was a gay bar (the only other people in there were two men - on a date, we thought - and two ladies, who seemed to get unnecessarily close to sniff each other's perfumes) but the walls were lined with photographs for sale (Nur €50!) that were all of artistic shots of sex. Gender wasn't an issue in these photos, but they were all relatively (give or take) artistically done, with the one exception being the guy wearing a bunny suit, minus the head, and his male partner wearing the bunny head. Weird. Anyway, it was Gurk's 1 year anniversary in Berlin so we celebrated with some final red wine and the Baklava we'd bought in AraBBelly.

From here, we finally got around to going to a Photomat; they're one thing you've GOT to do if you come to Berlin. It's a relatively straightforward old-style photobooth where you can get four different shots of yourselves in black and white, but at €2 it is well worth it. The finest photos that I think will come out of this trip.

End of day 6.

*I just googled Neukoeln, and apparently Bowie and Eno wrote an instrumental piece with this name, so its coolness as pretty much been cemented.

Day 5: Berlin

We headed to the Guggenheim first thing (around 12pm) which was on Unter Den Linden (Under The Linden Trees). Compared to the Eastern Block style that Berlin is mainly known for, this street has a much older style of architecture, and as one end is headed by the Brandenburg Gate (Brandenburger Tor), it's quite a touristy area. Gurk says the area is like the Oxford Street of Berlin, and the only place worth going is the Dussmann das KulturKaufhaus, which is a huge book, music and magazine store that stays open until midnight. It was near Friedrichstrasse, and so we got on the U-Bahn from Bornholmer Strasse. I'd seen some graffiti under the bridge the day before which said 'PENIS' and 'GIGGS'. I joked that this was a display of German anger toward Ryan Giggs but Gurk said these were local tags, and we spent this train ride spotting loads of different 'PENIS's.

I've been to the Guggenheim in New York, and I thought it was overpriced and boring, and the only redeeming feature was the architecture of the building itself. The Berlin Guggenheim was only €3 though, and was showing an exhibition by Gabriel Orozco. This guy had collected things from beaches and the sea over several years, and had photographed every item and categorised them by colour, and groups of 99 photos were framed and hung on the wall, whilst the items themselves (buoys, workman helmets, whole light bulbs etc) were laid out in the middle of the room. The best part was undoubtedly his collection of small items (we're talking the small bits of plastic you pull off bottles of water to release the lid, and tiny bits of foil) which had been laid out in a cabinet, and arranged in a way that made the collection look like a painting. Things were arranged by colour, but not in an obvious rainbow style, but so it almost looked like some sort of landscape. Really cool.

From here, we went to Treptower Park, which Gurk had mentioned a few times as being a really cool place where you could take good photos. We'd planned on spending the afternoon exploring Kreuzberg, so this took us in the right direction. It was lovely. Lots of tall trees, and wide paths, and so peaceful (Gurk said despite it being close to the centre, tourists don't often find their way out to it). I think it was built by the Russians and so everything was very symmetrically laid out, and it's definitely worth a visit if you go to Berlin. We'd stopped off for another Fritz Cola (Fritz Lima) on the way, and as there's a 5cent surcharge on bottles that can be redeemed if you take them back to a shop, it's generally a done thing to leave your empty bottles next to bins so the homeless can collect them and make a little money. As you're allowed to drink in the street in Berlin, there are going to be a substantial number of empties left for them to collect.

So Kreuzberg is like the East London, Hipster part of Berlin. There are lots of clubs here (including Club De Visionaire) near the river and Badeschiff, which is a floating public swimming pool. We stumbled by a Flea Market and had a quick look around. Oddest place to hear Carly Rae Jepson playing in the background. German apartments are generally let un-furnished (even doors! Gurk had to pay to buy the inner doors off of the previous owner, and her housemates from her earlier flat actually had taken the doors from their last flat, where the new tenants hadn't wanted to buy them off of them) and Gurk had bought all of her crockery from flea markets. Apparently if you go early enough, you can rummage through the belongings of someone recently dead and get some quality stuff...

We wandered up through town, passing a sort of canal which was lined with party sheds and at 3pm there was some sort of House music pumping out, and got a U-Bahn to Kottbusser Tor to an area which Gurk describes as painfully, PAINFULLY cool. It reminded me slightly of Whitechapel in that it was clearly poor, and as such was a real draw for immigrants and artists. Gurk pointed out a club which seemed to be within an actual block of flats, which was supposed to be the coolest of the cool. I loved the area - it just felt very normal, and had a real sense of liveliness and art. So it was around 3.30pm and I was about to faint with hunger and exhaustion, so we went to an Italian that Gurk knew down the road. It was sort of like Vapianos, where your pizza or pasta are cooked to order, and so aren't necessarily served up at the same time. Best €6 I've ever spent. (Gurk forbids me to mention the name of this restaurant, in case all of the 10 readers of my blog come and start making it all touristy and popular). 

It was a Saturday night. We stopped off some Bubble Tea (ice tea with pods of fruity juice, which you suck up through a straw and then pop in your mouth) and then headed back for a nap at about 5pm. And then we both woke up the next day at 7am....

End of day 5.

* So I'm pretty sure we're allowed to use fisticuffs. Ignore yesterday's comment. We're definitely not allowed to use bomsitit, when meaning 'Bomb's Hit It' though. 

Day 4: Berlin

Highlights:

• Fritz Cola – three varieties
• Learning that it's actually Fist to Cuffs and NOT Fistycuffs (thanks Adam and Joe)
• Fireman Sam is Welsh

After staying up until about 3/4am, I vaguely recall Gurk getting up around 8am to go to work, and then later heard a sort of 'Shit, I'm late. It's 8.30am' as I rolled over to go back to sleep. So not really a travelling story, but something I think is amazing; Gurk has a double bed but has two single duvets instead of a double. They're big enough to be able to cross over if necessary, but it basically means that throughout the night, you're never short of duvet, because you've always got your own? I literally think it's one of the best bed ideas ever. 

Anyway, I went back to sleep and got up around 11am and then headed back to Hackesche Markt station in the early afternoon. I got off at Alexanderplatz and tried to walk to Hackesche Markt, but German directions/maps are really really shit, so even though it should have only been a 10minute walk, I ended up turning around and getting back on the U-Bahn. Highlight here was a hot dog guy outside holding his hot dogs in a shelving system around his neck, and because it was raining, he'd put up his umbrella on some sort of contraption high above his head. It looked like a sort of Inspector Gadget thing that had probably extended at the push of a button.

I brought my Kindle with me on this trip and had bought a European travel guide before coming, so used its suggestions of places to go to in Berlin, starting with Hackesche Hoefe which was supposed to be a touristy shopping area, but worth seeing. It was like a network of streets and alleys hidden away behind the main road. The shops were mainly local brand names and looked pretty expensive, but the architecture looked almost Italian, with pale colours and balconies, and there lots of small trees and plants everywhere, so it was worth going for that. 

I mainly spent the day taking photos. It was pretty rainy in the middle of the day so I stopped off in a cafe called Milch Haus. It was a brilliant find; inside it looked like a collection of five or six different 60s living rooms. I'll add my photos later. It also sold Fritz Cola, and so I had my first (of three that day). Turns out their most brand-defining Cola flavour wasn't actually that nice. I also had some Kasekuchen (cheesecake). So I think there are jokes about Germans and their pastries and cakes, and I have seen quite a few people eating HUMUNGOUS cakes, but was still a bit perplexed when the lady served me this mega piece of cake. It was huge. I polished it off though, no probs. 

From here I walked North, taking photos along the way, and found Bernauer Strasse station which had been shut during the Berlin Wall period as it fell completely on the line of the wall. There are some places where the Berlin wall is in tact, though in most places it's crumpled/quite thin because so many people have taken pieces of wall as a souvenir. Here there was no wall, but the Iron poles which the wall was built around were still in place, so I followed the route for a while and read some of the information boards along the way. Next, stopped at a cafe called Ost West Berlin and had my second Fritz cola of the day - Melon Lemonade - delicious. Keep an eye out for it. I bought my third flavour - Cherry and Apple - and took that home to drink in the evening (it was alright, but the Melon Lemonade is hands down the best).

Gurk works pretty long hours, but she came home around 8 with dinner (pasta and pesto. Standard), and we spent the evening drinking German dry red wine (Trucken?), listening to Adam and Joe song wars, and reminiscing over podcasts we'd listened to. She mentioned a Text The Nation they'd done where people sent in sayings they'd been getting wrong for years. She mentioned how one idiot thought Fist to Cuffs was actually Fistycuffs. I had a brief inner battle of shame vs. honesty, before revealing that I'd always thought it was Fistycuffs as well. Apparently not. Adam and Joe, pretty educational. We also watched an episode of Fireman Sam. Apparently Sam, Elvis, Sarah and James, Norman and Dilys are all Welsh. I DON'T REMEMBER THEM BEING WELSH. But they definitely are. And all voiced by the same man. As a kid, I didn't question Sarah and James' pretty grown up, masculine voices. 

The evening ended with Gurk playing me some German rap (Fettes Brot Jein), and me trying to download Bjork's Hyperballad on her dying internet. 

End of day 4.

Day 3: Berlin

Highlights:

• 5ft German male bartender wearing denim hotpants
• Trying to sell stamps to a post office
• German jazz singing of Frank Sinatra - "Let me see what spring is like on yupiter und mars"

So as I've been to Berlin a few times before, there are no real tourist sights I still need to see, so I'm going on Gurk's recommendations of things to do whilst she's at work. I'm trying to use this opening stint in Berlin to plan my route for the month so I want to mix her museum recommendations with thoughtful, cafe sessions. I'm going to be honest; I figured the easiest thing to do was to google 'cool cafes in Berlin' and found a list of various places, including somewhere called 'Mein Haus am See' on Brunnenstrasse, which was about a 40m walk from Gurk's, so I headed there first. I asked Gurk for a map and she gave me her copy of "111 alternative things to do in Berlin" guide and map. Not 100% useful, as the book was in German...and the map at the back also helpfully only had a smattering of street names in it. 

After the sun and completely clear skies yesterday (on the two European Bank Holidays I've experienced this year - Queen's Day in Amsterdam and Reunification Day in Berlin - both have had unbelievable weather, in between a month of rain. In the UK, we had the Queen's Jubilee...), it had got quite rainy and cold (regenisch und kalt?), but I wanted to walk to get my bearings. Mein Haus am See was really cool. It was a large, long room with high ceilings, and the back area had cinema/arena style, tiered seating overlooking the rest of the cafe. The best thing undoubtedly about this place was the bartender/barista. When he was stood behind the bar, he just seemed like a grumpy, short German guy, but only when he stepped out to make my coffee did I notice his RIDICULOUSLY short denim shorts. We're talking bottom-grazing hotpants. He was wearing army style boots, and had really tanned, muscular legs and just looked incredible. And as he was so short, it felt like most of his body was on show. No matter how miserable he was, despite my best German attempts and smiling, it really made my day. I creepily took a photo of him on my phone.

Gurk had mentioned the C/O Berlin on Oranienburger Strasse, where she'd seen some photography exhibition by a guy called Larry King which she said was completely shocking and eye-opening, so I headed there next (stopping off to buy some SOCKS from H&M). I did a €10 walking tour of Berlin with my sister on my first visit and realised they'd actually pointed out the c/o building on that route, because it used to be a post sorting office, and has only been a gallery relatively recently. I'm presuming the C/O name of the gallery relates to the postal term 'care of (c/o)'. I've still got a student card from my OU, so it was €5 entry, which I think's about the most I'd pay given that they were mid-exhibition change and so there was less on show. Larry King had gone but there was a cool exhibition on fashion photography, which I'd never really given much credit to before this year when I watched the David Bailey biopic on the BBC with Karen Gillen as Jean Shrimpton. There was some really cool photography, including Bailey, and later Gurk had a good chat about fashion (she knows a lot more than I do) and the differences between male and female designers and photographers (there's apparently significantly increased wear- and suitability of women's clothes if designed by females, rather than males, who view fashion more commonly as just a form of art). 

There was also an exhibition about the reporting of Osama Bin Laden's death in media around the world. Completely shamefully, the most ridiculous report was in the Sun with their headline 'Bin Bagged'. From what I remember the gist of other papers was:

• Guardian - good that he's dead, but isn't it suspicious how he hid for so long...?
• Telegraph - died 'cowering' behind his wife
• Sun - ....Bin Bagged...
• Independent - died using wife as human shield

A few US papers used the opportunity to emphasise how similar Obama and Osama's names are.

From the C/O Berlin, I went to try take a few photos. I've set myself a target of taking three good photos a day (I'm already falling behind) so I just wandered through the streets a bit, seeing what I could find. I was also looking out for supermarkets to buy this product Gurk mentioned. It's a local German soft drink made by a company called Fritz-Cola. Like Reggae Reggae sauce and cola, they've got a secret recipe, so it can't be copied. I've tried some of their melon-lemonade and it's really good, but apparently still not really sold in many places outside of Northern Germany. I also love European supermarkets. I spent about an hour in a Rewe, just having a bit of an exploration. 

I had a conversation with Gurk yesterday about some German language nuances. There are different words for renting to and renting from someone. She'd once gone into a ski resort and asked if she could rent them some Skis...I came back to Prenzlauerber and found a Lotto, and had a similar experience where I tried to ask a guy in German if he sold stamps, but actually ended up asking him if he'd buy some stamps. He worked in a post office, so presumably wondered if I was some sort of travelling stamp sales person? Sorted it eventually, and then chilled for a bit before going to meet Gurk after work to go listen to some jazz. I got pretty lost trying to find the Metro so Gurk had to come find me and walk me to the place. We had a cool evening drinking Mojitos, red wine and Berliner Pils with Gurk telling me about her experiences as an Au Pair in Bavaria with a divorcing couple. The jazz was downstairs in this bar just off of Oranienburger Strasse where I'd been earlier, and was not the sort of experimental, German jazz I was expecting. It definitely fell in the Bill Bailey category of hotel lobby/elevator jazz, and consisted of three old guys wearing fleeces. Highlight was the trumpeter stopping to sing Frank's 'Fly Me to the Moon' in a German accent, not being able to pronounce the J in Jupiter. Gurk was able to fully impress with her knowledge of German (teaching me lots of words and translating the band banter) and of Berlin (telling a young Danish guy called Sebastian the coolest places to go in Berlin. Apparently always stay away from Bergheim and Watergate and head to Warschauer Strasse - where we were last night - and further East).

Got a U-Bahn back to Schonhauser Allee and stopped off for a Halloumi Kebab.

End of day 3.

Day 1: London to Berlin

Highlights:

• Helpful shop assistant at Stansted's Curry's Digital
• Prosecco in Stansted's Frankie and Benny's
• Gurk's creepy padded, Josef Fritzl-style sound-proofed door
• Ikea, meatball eating Swedes named Abba

I'd intended on packing the night before, but spent that day doing a mega room clearout in preparation and then having an evening with my housemates eating Thai curry lasagne (weird but not unpleasant) and then watching a Michael Jackson live DVD. So I did some last minute packing, and then headed to the bus stop, realising on route that I'd forgotten to pack more than one pair of socks and my headphones. I fortunately checked my boarding pass last minute, and realised I was flying from Stansted and NOT Gatwick, as I'd been telling everyone.

I LOVE being at airports alone. No-one knows you, and as far as they're concerned, you could be going anywhere - to visit family abroad, going on a spy mission, or starting a new life somewhere. I went to Curry's to buy some earphones and was advised by the nice shop guy that the ones I'd been about to go for were awful, and he set me up with some equally-priced better options. I included myself in the banter he was having with his colleague about how it sucked to be at work, and he said it was even worse being at Stansted airport, knowing that everyone you served was about to go on a trip or holiday of some sort, while you just slogged away. 

I'd given myself a bit of spare time to really enjoy the airport experience, and had time to have dinner at Frankie and Benny's and treated myself to a glass of prosecco with the tenner my Dad gave me towards the trip (I got a note of love and concern from Mum, and a tenner from Dad with the statement "If I had more in my pocket right now, I'd still only give you a tenner"). 

I arrived in Berlin at around 9.30pm on Tuesday. A pretty unpleasant RyanAir flight (awful), littered with non-stop, loud, Irish advertising of RyanAir sponsored products (I don't want a bloody scratchcard or smoke free cigarettes), but that's a small price to pay for a £26 flight.

From the airport I headed to the train station to get to my friend Gurkirpal's, near Schonhauser Allee. I jumped on a train but without a tube map couldn't tell if it was the right one. I think Germans must be pretty tall, as their inner-carriage tube map was about a metre above my head, so after a few failed, embarrassing attempts at jumping up to see it, that didn't help at all. I slunked back to my seat and hoped for some familiar, east to north sounding u-bahn stations.

Fortunately arriving at Schonhauser Allee, I headed to the bus stop to wait for Gurk to collect me. Again, I tried looking at the local area map to see if I could head to Gurk's myself to cut down waiting time, but the map was so bloody small I couldn't even find her street. Gurk said she'd be about 15minutes, but on the phone she sounded a bit drunk and like she was still in a bar. I spent the next 30minutes or so, dodging the local drunks by hiding behind the bus stop and various lampposts before Gurk arrived with a slow-motion movie hug.

We headed to Gurk's apartment, opposite the Cuban Embassy. She lives alone in what she called 'the smallest flat imaginable'. But seriously, the airbnb apartment I stayed in whilst in Paris would have fit into this apartment about three times. It's really cool - it's semi-studio, in that the living room is also the bedroom, but she's got enough space to have a double bed, a dining table, a sofa and a sort of high bunk bed where she has a rail for clothing with plenty of space below. The best part is undoubtedly the creepy, CREEPY brown leather padded front door, complete with studs around the edge and a small peep whole. I made a Josef Fritzl comment and Gurk said she'd made the same to the family she Au-paired with for a while in Bavaria, when they showed her to her room in their basement. They'd looked slightly blank in response.

I'm told Berlin nightlife only really begins around 12pm, so after an hour chilling at Gurk's, we headed to a bar to meet her friends, stopping off for a syprupy weiss beer to drink on the way. It's weird, and tastes a little of cream soda. On this trip, I'm planning on absorbing myself in as much local cuisines/drinks/traditions as possible, so am going to say yes to (pretty much) all local recommendations. We went to a bar in the only part of Berlin I ever seem to go out in when I'm there - I recognised a few of the local kebaberies from 5am post-night snacks. Since moving to Berlin last year, Gurk seems to have found all possible ex-Durham students living in the city. We briefly hung out with an English-born, but raised-in-France guy called Rory and his Swedish friends. No lie, but one of the group was a Swedish girl named Abba, who'd spent the day eating Meatballs at Ikea (and shopping in Primark, though I don't think this belongs to any Swedish stereotype). We got a taxi home, and drunkenly attempted to put Gurk's sheets on her bed. An awful idea.

End of day 1.

Day 2: Berlin

Highlights: 

• Frozen Yoghurt near Mauerpark
• Grunewald, a forest in Zone 2 of Berlin
• Sweet Turkish lady, who kept her cafe open to feed us Brotchen und Kase

I awoke at a shocking 12.30pm on Wednesday. It was a Bank Holiday in Berlin (mid-week?! Mental Europeans). We'd had loads of plans for the day but those were clearly abandoned as we slowly got ready (made even slower by my complete and utter flooding of Gurk's flat - we're talking entire bathroom, hall, and parts of the kitchen - the only benefit of this being that it gave Gurk her first ever opportunity in life to use a mop). But we eventually left, heading into a really nice warm and sunny day. 

Gurk took me to Mauerpark (translation Wall Park), stopping off for some frozen yoghurt nearby. We walked through Mauerpark, past parts of the Berlin Wall, a tantric sex couple (it looked like this anyway) and some swings. Gurk mentioned that an Irish guy often holds Karaoke in this park. It has gotten so successful that people around the world put in requests and come to sing. From here we walked to the place where the Berlin wall first fell. This is in Prenzlauerberg, which is now considered a pretty gentrified part of Berlin; a lot of the Eastern block style buildings now have Parisian/Hausmann facades making it look a much nicer area than the rest of Berlin. 

From here we took a few U-Bahns to head to Grunewald. Gurk had heard about this old American spy tower called Teufelsberg, in the middle of Grunewald (translation is Green Wood, I think?) where you were on slightly higher ground than the rest of Berlin, and could watch a sunset. We headed into the woods using Gurk's iPhone map, but spent the next few hours, and about 10km (according to my iPod) getting completely lost, and never actually finding the tower. It was still a really cool afternoon, and the woods were beautiful and really peaceful. Slightly dehydrated and exhausted, as it got dark we eventually escaped the woods and found our way back to the U-Bahn. We saw a cafe which was closing, but the owner kept it open to make us some cheese sandwiches. I'd been about to pass out, so this was such a relief. Gurk speaks decent enough German, but when she went to the loo, I tried my half English/German sentences on the owner. She was a nice, grey-haired Turkish lady, who said she loved England and the English, but disliked Germany and Germans. She liked Grunewald and the piggies (her word), but only from a distance. We paid up, and this sweet lady gave us some free mini-croissants and pain-au-chocolat. 

End of day 2.