German women – a dichotomy

The women here never wear a hint of make up and seem to find the idea of appearing in any way glamorous rather distasteful, yet every trip to the gym confirms that they all perform hair removal and general body grooming routines way above and beyond the call of duty.

I am however very glad to report that they don’t have the vile and disgusting British habit of pissing all over the toilet seat and then leaving it for the next unsuspecting person to sit on. It’s a great shame and may even be some kind of conspiracy that they started making the seats white, because at least on the black ones you can see the deposit some filthy dirty pikey has left for you before it’s too late to do anything but swear loudly.

The Berlinale was very exciting, with sightings of George Clooney coming thick and fast. I only got to see one film, due to the extremely complex and effort-involving ticket purchasing system. Luckily it was a stormer – Michael Winterbottom’s The Road to Guantanamo. An exceptional film made even better by the realisation at the end that I was sitting next to the Tipton lads whose story it tells.

Had another enjoyable weekend in London. Went to the Tate to see the Rachel Whiteread and really liked it, like being on a boat in a lake filled with icebergs. Also had an entertaining night in Soho House, which I hadn’t realised was full not of fabulous people but of sleazy rich men in suits. Some doctor moy tried to chat my friend up by spilling a drink over her; luckily he was too drunk to notice that I mopped it up with the tail of his jacket. Ended the night discussing GHB with a cross-dressing wildebeest.

Good to see Ryanair doing their bit to discourage binge drinking by selling ‘hangover kits’ among the overpriced goods on their trolleys.

Attempt at not drinking in the week fails miserably

I cannot reign in my appetites, never have been able to, probably never will.

School discos are not cool

So it turns out that St Pauli play in the division above FC Union. This is good in that I can support them both, but unfortunately means that they won't be playing each other any time soon.

The clubbing crowd here is quite curious. Extremely young, and quite desperate to take someone home for the night. I went to 103 on Saturday and every time I spotted someone checking me out I felt like a pervert (and not in a good way, the way you might at the Kit Kat Club for example). German men are all perverted of course, it's one of the things I like best about them, but with this bunch it felt as though if you did have a moment of weakness you would end up on some sort of register.

Boo to Bayern

Went to see Hertha play Bayern Munich last night. Hertha deserved to win but their finishing was poor and it ended up a nil-nil draw. (This doesn’t mean that I’m going to start supporting Hertha by the way, on the contrary I decided on FC Union a while ago, I just had to see the Olimpiastadion and experience watching top level football for a tenner. In fact I’m seriously torn as to allegiance at the moment, as I’ve developed quite a soft spot for St Pauli and they play in the same division as Union).

As when my friend Gillian and I go to Glastonbury, I started planning my clothing some time in advance. After some deliberation, I decided to leave nothing to chance. Thus I was sporting: fur lined boots, thick socks, thick tights, leg warmers, fleece lined trousers, a t-shirt, a jumper, a cardigan, my duvet/coat, a fur hat and two pairs of gloves. It turned out to be the first (only) mild day we’ve had in 2006 so I was definitely warm enough, in fact one might even have said I was a smidgeon too warm. I was also fairly restricted in even the simplest of movements, and I didn’t quite fit into my seat.

It's amazing what you can see on TV

Today I saw the news on the telly, and happened to catch Rumsfeld making a little speech in which he compared Hugo Chavez to Hitler. The exact comparison was that “yes, Chavez was democratically elected, in the same way that Aydolf Hitler was democratically elected at first” – enigmatically hinting that Chavez has somehow now seized hold of power illegally (rather than actually being somewhat more democratically elected than most world leaders, due to the fact that he’s made to hold a referendum as to his popularity in the middle two years between every general election he wins). So if this sort of comment is permissible why is Ken Livingston, who whether you agree with him or not at least said something that made sense, in such trouble?

I also saw something on the TV while at the gym. I had my iPod on, but I couldn’t help but notice a banner across one screen which stated ‘I’m scared of little people.’ Sure enough there then appeared a woman who for some reason (undoubtedly a deeply disturbing one) had a genuine fear of dwarves. I need hardly add that the programme then made her face one of her nemeses, to the obvious distress of all concerned. It’s at moments like this that you can’t help but wish that Hitchhiker’s Guide had got it right and that at any moment the earth was going to be destroyed by a Vogon constructor ship.

January down, February and March to go

Finally the vengeful arctic god seems to have loosened his grip on Berlin, the thick layer of ice encasing the city has started to go soggy at the edges, and it's possible to be outside without gloves for up to 10 minutes before the onset of frostbite. Last weekend I walked on the frozen canal, though not without some trepidation and mental images of hands clasping at jagged broken ice before sinking forever into black murky depths. In fact it was very Bruegelesque with its parading families complete with bicycles, dogs, prams and sledges, and a few show offs doing pirouettes.

I've been going out more in Prenzlauerberg. It's officially hipper than Kreuzberg, but it seems to me that there's a lot more pretence to it. For example one co-operative type place offers you refills of wine and home-cooked food, and tells you that you should pay what you think it's worth. But then the staff stand in a line to badger you if they don't think that you've paid enough. There's also of course the risk of falling asleep on the U-Bahn back and having to be woken by some nice concerned Berliner at the end of the line.

What's more, I have noticed that everybody looks at you oddly here when you play air guitar.

My favourite Berlin street names to date are, in reverse order:
Schlangengraben
Arnold-Knoblauch-Ring
Christburger Str.
Dickhardt Str.