Don't mention the Wall!

Berlin! I think I'm in love! I ought to start by mentioning my parents never taught me 'stranger danger' and i am so thankful!

I travelled to Berlin by means of carpooling with strangers...it's called mittfahrt and is big business here, and, along the way, met a middle aged photographer who was about to open a Mexican restaurant in Berlin while married to a Bochumer. Not only did this kind fellow keep me entertained the whole way by discussing methods and means of photography and commenting on my shots, when we reached our drop off point in Berlin in the pouring rain and close to freezing temperatures he practically held my hand and guided me through the city's underground, ensuring i knew EXACTLY where i was going and double and triple checking to see if i knew where i was to go when i get off the train. Once i disembarked i never saw our old pal Adan again but his help and generosity was the start of a magical time in the divided metropolis!

I head to a tiny kiosk to pick up keys to someone's apartment who i have never met before. The guy behind the counter looks me up and down but is satisfied that my backpack and beaming smile look like they belong to a 'carol' and hands me the keys in an envelope. The envelope has my name and a welcome note printed in neat little letters and my heart goes all warm already. I ascend slightly delapidated stairs through a graffitied and underlit stairwell not knowing what to expect...i have my sister on the phone the entire time talking me through finding the place as she, too, has crashed on her now husband's school mate's couch. I find the unnamed door...no one in germany really uses numbers but, rather, their names beside the door for the the postie...and open the door into a caramel lit, 1930's deco apartment which i instantly fall for! There is a vase of fresh-cut yellow flowers on the table and clean towels on my made bed. I suddenly am overcome with traveller's guilt. I come to crash and seek city insights and have nothing to offer in return...eek!! So 4pm finds me slopping through the rain trying to find Australian wine and trying to compose a relatively easy meal idea to show my gratitude..(keeping in mind Poles express their love by means of food and the rule is the quality of food is directly proportional to the magnitude of affection) i found wine at Aldi...but then got home...opened it and had to venture out in the rain again...and again when i realised i forgot the canned tomatos....and again for phone credit. So, finally, wet, red faced and giggling i start to prepare what i hope is going to be the best fuck-off spag bol anyone has ever tasted...i was sure it would be after my trip to Bologna...the key is salt! Ha ha! What a wank! Anyway...i am disappointed to find out there is some trick to turning on the gas burners and compose a half cut message to my host asking him to reveal the secret. With the instructions sounding too complicated i decide to wait patiently until he returns from a rough day's work to help out this imbecile who has taken hold of his kitchen. Anyway...upon his return i stand like a fool laughing and trying to cover my shame at failing to follow instructions while he shows me how to work that cooking thing. Meal done and dusted my eyelids are heavy and he suggests heading out. Now, one of the few pieces of advice i was given about this guy was 'if he invites you to go out...GO' being a jazz muso in one of the coolest cities in the world is a big plus! We head to so many bars, tucked away inside apartments blocks, nestled in courtyards, pitch black....i cannot recall any of them in complete detail. Nor do i have any idea what time we returned home...all i remember is my brain fading to black as i lay on the polished floor boards of the warm flat listening to Nina Simone croon on the vinyl. The hangover i do remember...not the film...the real one. But my far too accommodating host, let'S call him Andreas...for that is his name... took me on a walking tour of Berlin to clear my head. Along the river Spree, past fragments of the old wall, through the Tiergarten, which, during the war was used as a huge farming field to grow potatoes and other earthy euro gemüse when times were tough, and through the Brandenburg Tor into East Germany. With evening and the temperature descending it was time to warm the heart and soul with a visit to one of the many Weinachtmarkt's in Berlin! In a twist of fate fellow Aussies Andrew and Stephen were in town and joined us for grünkohl (mushy green cabbage with sausages and vinegar..amazing!) and a steaming Glühwein. With the city buzzing around us and steam rising with our words life was grand. With bellies burning and feet itching it was time to explore the city's famed underground nightlife, with our musician tour guide leading teh pack.

All i know about where we went next is this...semi-legal. Someone's cellar. in a ramlbing courtyard in a quiet deserted street. Crawling over rubble and bricks, down rickety steps and suddenly you are shoulder to shoulder with Berlin's true underground dwellers. Experimental band; 10 handy cams set up playing footage of the lead singer singing/narrating from a broom closet behind the stage and the entire facade of the 'stage' draped in canvas on which was being projected interpretive sketches which were being drawn by a beanie wearing left hander sitting on a stool with a lamp beside me up the back. Amazing! The night follows the lead of many with a crazy hazy hue of beer cigarette smoke and vinyl jazz and finds me wake up the next morning a full hour after my train to Krakow has left Berlin. Just my luck to get an extra day in this crazy melting pot of...everything!!!...no really...i really was lucky.

Leaving Berlin was hard. Even harder though was my ten hour train trip to Krakow...