Thanks for your help, TFL

An Ode to the Fiddlers

Here is a little song I wrote about the MPs expenses scandal.

The sound quality’s not ideal, and the washing machine raging in the background sounds less than professional, but other than that I hope you will enjoy.

I heart complaint letters

Of all the snidey remarks I’ve made in complaint letters over the years, it is this one that makes me the most proud:

To make this process as simple for you as I can, I have enclosed everything. I trust that this will be everything you need, as it is everything. Please read it carefully and refrain from responding with any further apathetic, deferring drivel such as that which I have had to endure so far.

Pa rum pum pum pum

I don’t care what you think of me. I love this and I always will… 

Bleak Berlin

We were off to a bad start. I was tired, irritable and wound up by Ryan Air’s utterly inept online check-in system. At the airport, things went predictably from bad to worse. Shampoo, conditioner and shower gel were all seized – cleanliness clearly a national security threat these days. And once aboard flight FR1317 it became clear how Ryan Air had been able to offer me such a ‘cheap’ flight in the first place.

So it was with pleasure we arrived at our destination Schonefeld International, Berlin. We sat at the neighbouring railway station for little under an hour, scanning our German phrase book and piecing together the following: “two hot dogs and a bottle of coke please?”. Maybe it was my pronunciation but after we had eaten our pizzas, we were finally aboard the train and roughly in the direction of the centre.

Our first day in Berlin was spent attuning to the transport system, admiring the graffiti that covered every grey wall and discussing Germany’s unsettled history. Even in the celebration of a new, undivided Berlin, the grey cloud above us mimicked the depressive aftermath from recent political unrest. The wide streets just seemed so empty for a capital city.

At check-in time we arrive at the Eastern Comfort, a floating hostel on the River Spree. Charming and spacious, and with an amazing view of the Oberbaum bridge, the cabin was more than I had expected. Huddling in the warmth of our cabin bed, we planned our first night out. If only we hadn’t decided to have that nap…

The next morning we awoke – a little irate to discover we had slept through our first night in Berlin. Showered and dressed we ventured into the freezing outdoors. A quick visit to Berlin’s Matalan equivalent ‘Kiks’ to buy the pants we both had forgotten to bring and we were left with yet another day to leisurely explore.

In the evening we went to the Arena to watch world music star Manu Chao and I can honestly say I have never been to a gig as uplifting as this.

On a high from the fantastic concert and on recommendation of a friend in London we headed to the club Watergate at about midnight. And somehow, between midnight and noon the next day, the club transformed in to a dirty squat-like rave. The mainstream rave culture in Berlin seems not too dissimilar from London’s subculture of ravers. The friends we met here reminded us of our friends from back home – worldly, passionate but easygoing.

Around midday fever hit and with a high temperature and a bad case of self-pity I retired back to our cabin for some necessary sweating, moping and, eventually, sleep.

By Monday I was feeling a little better and, with my peculiar craving for fried eggs, we began on a mission to find a German café selling an English breakfast. Successful in our quest we trekked on to soak up as much culture as we could before our flight. One pub, two park benches and a trip to the Sealife Centre later we were back at the Airport and working with ridiculous security laws to return to the UK.

Hidden behind its dreary, uninviting landscape Berlin’s charm is there for anyone willing to dig beneath the surface of this half-finished city. It might take some observing, researching and understanding but the city’s magic is a worthy reward.