Berlin Berlin Berlin

What a bloody surprise this place was; it's amazing! Never did I think I would love the German capital enough to place it in the same breath as London or Barcelona as somewhere I'd consider moving to , but there it is, I would!
Berlin's a hotpot of bold expression, grand modern architetcture; a forward thinking city steeped in 'living memory history' with explosions of pop art, culture and bags of youthful vibrance. And, reading that back that is exactly the type of travel guide sentence I hate - a set of contextless words that sound impressive but mean nothing. I'll impart a context shall I?

"Steeped in 'living memory history'"
Two tour tango

Our visit was the tale of two tours. This was the ONLY place we had opted for a guided tour. They're incredibly interesting if you know nothing about what you're looking at. If you know something about the subject matter you realise they are essentially a performance above a history lesson, but an entertainment nevertheless.
We signed up because (a) there was a lot to see that we knew nothing about (b) it started from our hostel (c) it was free. Three solid reasons.
Our tour guide Marta was amazing, giving an emotive performance that had the history crowd cooing. There is just one thing I'd flag up to the organisers in future; in a place running Hollocaust Concentration Camps tours alongside free tours surely it is best NOT to ask everyone to line up, wait to be segregated, and take a number. We wondered how authentic a tour we'd opted for...
Our crowd of 'tour goers' made the tour. There was Susie and John; a larger than life Sheila and Bruce, Steve, who'd managed to follow us (by chance or by design? Is he watching me now?) from Vienna, through Prague to Berlin and who could be described as an amicable Canadian legend, and Freddy who'd lived in Spain, London, Italy and had just moved to Berlin that week. He speaks as many languages as I have fingers but is still fundamentally Irish, and therefore a damn good laugh.
We went around all the sights - the Reichstag, the Memorial to the Jews, Hitler's Bunker (pleasingly unmarked and a regular haunt for local dogs to do their business), the Wall (which is much smaller 'in person'), Checkpoint Charlie etc etc. 

"Explosions of pop art, culture."

By the halfway cafe-stop Frddy and I had seen all the bits we wanted to see (cathedrals featured in the second half) and so made a dash from the crowd, leaving Phil and Steve in the lurch. Instead we went for an amazing German poached salmon in rosemary and apple sauce with potatoes in a gem of a Bavarian restaurant Freddy had found earlier and then toured the many pop art galleries charging thousands per piece, and the shops (Freddy needed a new phone) before taking an inspired turn down an unmarked alley of a sidestreet. We were astonished. We were no longer in Berlin walking pavements and roads, but sand. Shops had been replaced with metal shaks blasting out house and electro tunes. Pop art  galleries had been replaced with an open sale of pot. We were in an artists commune and although crazy metalwork pieces littered the landscape for sale, liberalness ruled as artists and visitors wondered about, lighting up, and drinking from the onsite cafe/bar. We spent some time her ebefore moving on.

The 2nd tour
 Phil and I decided on day 2 to attend the Concentration Camp tour. It clearly wasn't meant to be: (a) we didn't have enough money to pay for our tickets in advance like everyone else had (B) we hadn't bought our day train tickets as we were supposed to. So when the troup rushed for the train set to depart in 2 minutes for the other side of Berlin, we were left to the mercy of a ticket machine that had a conscious objection to taking our money. We were forced to wave the train goodbye. To be honest, it wouldn't have been a happy or a fitting end to a tour that has been all about forward thinking over reflection.

"Bags of youthful vibrance"

We DID find ourselves on another tour of sorts, in our attempts to fittingly celebrate our 3 week whirlwind. Freddy, Phil, and I went on another pub crawl. We have become somewhat a set of connoseurs of them over the last few weeks, resorting to them whenever we found a hostel without a pulse. Unfortunately, this one was not good. There was no free T-shirt in sight. The 'free beer' ran out within the allotted free-drinking-time never to be replaced, and of the venues we visited the clientele can be described in one word: us.

Being with an Irishman though it would hav been rude NOT to get drunk. So we did. Then we lost the pub crawl for 5 minutes when searching for food en route only to find when we queued up to our final club (with free entry for the wristbanded) we ordered to pay because we were late. We decided to go elsewhere. But not before Phil thought he'd be opportunist and take a drink for the road. The only problem was it was a bottle, we were in a queue, and it was after a slightly unfriendly exchange with a bouncer. Phil's neck met the vice like grip of the bouncer's hand and was immediately flanked by backup. Only Fredy and mine's immediate protestations got them to let go and back off quickly, we called the boy a massive, massive idiot and headed to an all-German nightclub instead. I'd describe it as a party in an epileptic sauna with the German leg of the 'Sex Pistols' fan club. Bright white lights flashed sporadically at eye level, punk music interspersed indie and the crowd looked the like the alternative section of Topman. Nevertheless we soldiered through, buoyed by the idea of a Kebap at closing time and eventually returned 'home' at 4.30am via the metro that runs 24 hours on Fridays and Saturdays (are you listening Borris?). A suitably messy end to Berlin.

Phil's farewell to Europe

 A brief note deserves to be made on this. We travelled to Shoenfeld airport together, taking the typical Sunday alternative public transport; a replacement bus service instead of the train. We wrapped up the tour with an iconic photo of the 'plane station' instead of a train station. Then there was the manly, manly double hug handshake with extra pat on the back reserved for momentous occassions among all Man-Kind and that was it. We went our seperate ways with heads held high.

Phil, it's been amazing and I'm glad I've shared this leg of the European Adventure with you. With all our individual imperfections aside (yes we DO both have them despite being convinced otherwise) I couldn't have asked for a better friend to go travelling with. See you in the UK and good luck with a certain something...