The past few days have been a bit flat due
to an incredibly dumb error by myself, a thunderstorm and the adjustment of
inner city living. I have enjoyed Berlin no end, It’s a great place with heaps
to offer, but I think I speak for the three of us when I say “it’s time we
freshened up the scenery”. Our last few days were spent in the Friedschrian
district, which is the arty, alternative side of Berlin. The starving artists
get by around here by living cheapl, giving them a relaxed no strings attached
lifestyle. I really envy this lifestyle, although the Australian standard is to
work hard, tuck away some money and start a family, these people live by a
different motto and I the
feeling that this bohemian mind set is as permanent as the tattoos that so many
bear. So many seem to enjoy living free, creatively and day by day. You could
consider this unproductive depending on you background, but I think it’s real cool and commend them
for being different. This hipster community sees most of it’s residents with
arms bound with tattoos, ear stretchers and R rated haircuts, interacting
within the various coffee shops and small restaurants, drinking beer and
smoking weed. I made these observations as I walked through the packed streets
of East Berlin getting to God is an Astronaut in town. The venue was obviously
planned by these lazy dope fiends as I couldn’t find the fuckin’ place
anywhere, I asked people, argued with my map and the street signs, but ended up at
the station every time. After half an hour of searching (missed my favourite
song) I located the venue. It was situated directly under the station.
Ridiculous! This is the point in which I can truly say that my music is you
know kind of underground. I mean you can feel a train pass overhead your between
songs. The gig was great, although being late, I managed to worm my way to the
front where I had perfect view of the guitarist, which is the spot that I
always want to be at a post rock gig. They played most of my favourites and
ending with the song all is violent, all is bright (a rarity), was an excellent
note to start my return trip. I enjoyed having the night to myself, I felt very
perceptive walking the streets of a foreign city alone. The place despite being
of lower rent is not dangerous in anyway, I guess everyone is too happily drunk
or stoned to cause any trouble. Being eastern Berlin the Russian architecture
is most evident on the bridge, where brick towers with pointy bulb roofs create
moonlit shadows over the street light performers. Crowds of people sit on the
pavement and watch the performers on the bridge, one girl with a hollow
electric managed to gather about 50 or 60 people enjoying her talents. She was
brilliant but the traffic and the constant sirens of ambulance and police
seemed to frustrate her. Was an interesting night, not a drop of alcohol
consumed and it has been my highlight so far.
The no alcohol side of things is contrary
to the previous night. We grabbed a bottle of Captain morgans Rum (equivalent
of $15) and some ginger ale to enjoy and afternoon of drinking in the hostels
sun soaked beer garden. Drinking with the Captain is not an unusual thing for
me but at the $35 bucks a pop I drink it only when financial and in moderation.
The night was off to a good start and before too long we had met a couple from
Canada and some girls from Holland. The Canadian dude was a mass stoner and I
enjoyed talking sports with him, his knowledge of basically everything was
outstanding and I felt our conversation on WWII was interesting for the both of
us. He loved talking about spinning one up, which I could only partially
relate. The Dutch girls were good fun and the taller one was very attractive. I
thought finch was in for all money, but she sprung the dreaded boyfriend card
on him. Unlucky finch! We were getting pretty sauced by this point and the
conclusion of happy hour saw us with nothing but a drop of morgans left. I
walked down to the supermarket to see the last bottle being purchased by some
aussies. Shattered. I asked a security guard who looked like he knew his liquor
(probably because he was drinking a beer on the job) what similar tasting
bottle was still available. He handed me Barcardi gold. I hate Bacardi but I
bought it any way. I had a block to walk so I bought myself a beer for 50 cents
for my journey home (drinking on the street here is legal and fuckin’ awesome).
I got back to some happy faces, but unveiling the Bacardi soon changed their
delight. How bad could it be a few ice cubes, some dry we’ll be laughing. This
shit was not worthy to be on shelves especially next to the captian. I let the
team down and I had to turn the empty bottle of the captains away as I felt
ashamed to look into the captains eyes. Although it tasted like the captains
pantaloon sweat after a heated sword fight, we soon knocked over the whole
bottle. I enjoyed talking to the small dutch girl, she was a shadow of the
physical beauty of the taller girl but she possesed an amazing personality. She
joked with us, sculled beers (put trent to shame) and was great company. The
most interesting thing about her was a permanent lump on her head from being
sconed by a hockey ball. Without bringing attention I would have never noticed,
but now I couldn’t look anywhere else for the remainder of the night. She was
real cool. After the drinking I was feeling pretty solid and I thought I was
going to be fine the next day. I lay down and my bed and before long my head
began to spin out of control. The captain was at the helm of my brain and was leading
it into some rough seas. I ran to the bathroom feeling ill. I remained here for most
of the night. Even so I still look forward to partying with the captain again.
We are now in a town called Leipzig,
stopping over for a few nights on our way to Munich. The hostels great but the nightlife here is
like clubbing on the main strip of Poweltown. We found only restaurants (packed,
but not what we were after). It’s the sort of place that would be ideal for
taking a long time girlfriend or partner. Although Trent and Finch are
basically that I figured they didn’t eat strawberries and kiss under the
moonlight, as it would have been awkward now that I was on the scene (they
would have done plenty of that in their previous month away). Tomorrow we plan
on hiring some bikes and visiting the oldest coffee house in the world, which
as a coffee lover am excited as hell to go to. The coffee over here is shit.
Starbucks is the only place that you can get a decent cup and I hate that as
you get that anywhere. Where are the European blends I imagined? Surely I can
get a decent cup tomorrow. I’m tired good night.