Nothing Rhymes with Porridge

So, here is winter in Berlin. Winter is here. No doubt about it.
But where's the snow? At the moment, the weather's pretty much like London - but worse! Cycling through the city, miniscule droplets of freezing water vapor crystalize on my face making me grimace like a confused gargoyle, but at least the pedestrians turn and flee when they see me trundling towards them.

A few weeks ago, a worrying thought occurred to me.
"No porridge in Berlin. I need porridge. Winter come. Need porridge. Must find porridge". Seriously - that's exactly how it occurred, word for word.

And find porridge I did. Except here it's called Kölln Flocken. The bag that I've almost finished is called Kölln Flocken anyway. Not sure if they're all called that, or even exactly what it means. Maybe each bag has a different name. Modern art. That's ok, I'll memorise the colours instead. Maybe it means "flakes of Cologne", in which case I should probably go to a doctor tomorrow.

So yes, it's exactly the same as porridge and exactly as cheap as it should be, it works out at about 7c a bowl, not that I'm trying to save money or anything. Of course not!
Spend! spend! spend!
It's tough to make porridge LOOK attractive though - hence the candles.
Nice huh? I do it every day!

PSYCHEDELIC PSUPERMARKT!

So there I was the other evening cycling up Fehrbelliner Strasse on my way home, remembering that we needed some more bread. Magically a Kaiser's supermarket appeared ahead, its big red sign glowing through the mist, a beacon of grocery shining through the foggy Berlin night.
They had plenty of bread in stock, and I bought some milk too, but the real bonus was they they now have a PSYCHEDELIC LIGHTSHOW instead of a delicatessen counter! Don't ask me why, ask them! Call up Kaiser's headquarters and say "Excuse me, but is there a reason why you're trying to recreate the UFO Club circa 1967?". On second thoughts, don't mention it at all, it's probably some secret thing the employees have - a wednesday after-hours ACID ROCK PARTY.
This week's star guests, The Grateful Bread.

Anti Yuppie Graffiti in Berlin (Yups & Downs)

This is something I've seen a lot in Berlin. On the surface it looks like Anti Yuppie graffiti - anyone can see that. Graffiti by people who hate yuppies.
But I have my suspicions. Could it be that the culprits are the yuppies themselves? Is it possible that this angry brigade wishing to cleanse Berlin of all yuppiness are in fact none other than the yuppies they claim to hate?
My theory then, is that this is nothing more than some sort of urban "exterior design" sport enjoyed by genuine yuppies who are disappointed that the vibrant and slightly dodgy inner city areas they moved to have started to look too tidy and well, normal. Gotta keep up appearances! Gotta keep the place looking "urban"! Undercover urban yuppie activists - that's it.

Here's a favourite of mine. Near a car park in Prenzlauer Berg.
One or two yuppie-type cars there, clearly driven by the yuppies responsible for this very "authentic" urban scrawl.


And the person responsible for this one is clearly someone used to writing a lot of CHEQUES.


Here's rather half-hearted attempt in Kreuzberg, written with Tipp-Ex, from the office dear!


A nice little stencil number with made up language.
So LAST YEAR, so YUPPIE!

I think I'm onto something.

SAME SUN SETS

Do people really visit blogs to look at pets, children, family holidays or kitchens?
I think not. Sunsets fall into the same category. No-one goes on the internet to look at sunsets - why should they? It's just a bloody sunset!

But think of this as an intermission. A little pause. You're here on my blog and while you're on your way to look at something else... "oh look! A lovely sunset!". Ah how nice.

This very bloody sunset took place on Frankfurter Allee two weeks ago. I like Frankfurter Allee a lot, but I think I may be in the minority. What makes this sunset important is that it marked THE END OF SUMMER. I've started wearing gloves.

schmalz? ... SCHMALZ!

Until very recently I had no idea that something actually called SCHMALZ even existed.
It's been lurking in the fridge for weeks. Looked innocent enough, but with huge potential for being hideous. In addition, none of The Germans could adequately describe what it really was, other than"it's Schmalz!".

So what's it like?
Not bad. Nice even.
It tastes like fried onions!
How about that then?

RINTI TIN

A very definite joy about moving abroad is the constant barrage from your new country's advertising agencies. Sometimes the message is clear (in Germany, it's difficult to misinterpret some ads, they're so blatant) and sometimes almost nothing makes sense and the feeling of confusion is hard on the brainbox.

So, here's a billboard that was pasted up last night on Behmstrasse.

WHAT HELL IS GOING ON HERE?
At first I assumed it was an Animal Rights charity, with the familiar red/white/black colours and strangely clinical atmosphere. But no, I THINK it's a genuine ad for dog food! It's very very sinister. The white tiled background - what's that, a kitchen? A slaughterhouse? A butcher's? The slaughterhouse/ butcher theme is pushed even harder with meathook device... the dog looks absolutely teased to distraction and you can just imagine the pool of drool on the slaughterhouse. All that's missing is dripping blood. Pretty clever.


I can't recall an ad for dog food that makes such intense use of base canine meat lust! Not cutesy-wutesy at all. The dog doesn't even look like a pet here... he's a predator!

Or is it a completely left-field clever clever postmodernistic parody thing that I'm just not getting?

PAULUS PILLKOPF!

Mind you, on the way to the fleamarket, we saw this shocking and blatantly genius window display in a pharmacy on Apostel Paulus Strasse.
Something in there for everyone!
Would you get this in the UK?
I think not.

The Flohmarkt That Wasn't.

Can you feel the level of excitement in this photograph?
Today we decided to head over to the WEST to check out the flohmarkt outside the Rathaus Schöneberg. Last time I'd been there was back in the meed-90s when the market was on Fehrbelliner Platz, and it was a good solid fleamarket with plenty of odd stuff on offer.
But now... this is a shabby fleamarket! Quite a lot of books, but nothing amazing, and the record situation was dire: only scratchy James Last, Demis Roussos, Culture Club, Leo Sayer - and even then, not the good stuff!

What I'm beginning to suspect is this: Fleamarkets in the West used to be better than the ones in the East, but slowly the whole system has totally reversed and now truly the best stuff has shifted to the East.
Oh well, I guess that's ok then, because that's where I live.
The search continues.
The theories get more tangled.
Will I ever find that elusive "Staff Carpenborg & Electric Corona" LP?
Not at this rate.
(... and I'm beginning to think every Can single ever pressed now lives abroad.)

BADGES IN BERLIN, BUTTONS IN BERLIN, PINS IN BERLIN.

In Britain we call them badges, in Germany they're called buttons, in the USA they call them pins, but they also like to say buttons as well.
Anyway I had a design emergency recently and neeeeded to make some badgebuttonpins here in Berlin. I tried several places but in the end I found the BEST.
His name is Patty, he makes 100% classic trad 25mm metal badges from the designs you give to him.
Wonderful stuff. Not expensive either.
There's something cool about badges that'll probably always be cool, and when you have a bag full of new ones they make a lovely jingling sound.
Here's Patty's website: www.maechtigeshaeuflein.de.vu

... thanks to Nils for the tip!

Wing Commander

To celebrate my arrival back in Berlin, I'm posting a photo of an unusual pigeon that I met at Schlesisches Tor U-Bahn station on my way to work this morning.
There are a lot of pigeons there.
Rumour has it, they have a fake ticket printing scam.
Want a cheap ticket? Ask a pigeon.
But ACT CASUAL (that's the pigeon rule, dontcha know)!

Wash Hands Before Eating.

I took this photo on my last full day in India, in a busy part of Delhi.
The yellow writing on the wall reads "TO BE DEMOLISHED".
Shortly afterwards, my stomach was demolished.
Didn't take any photographs of that happening though, so you'll have to take my word for it.

Now I'm back in Berlin, rebuilding my stomach with German bread and bananas. All bananas sold in Germany are grown in Dusseldorf, where banana farms cover miles and miles of countryside outside the main city, believe it or not!

BEAR BIN IN BUNDI

I encountered this bear-shaped bin in Bundi.
Is this normal?

JANTAR? MANTAR!

In Jaipur now.
Spent a day taking photos, under the scorching sun, but with an (Indian) umbrella, in this place built a couple of hundred years ago, full of giant Hindu sundials and other astronomical/ astrological instruments. They call them Jantar Mantar.

I call them Gigant Antfarm.
The ants here are HUGE.
(Hindi word for ant is "makora").
There, you just learnt something.
Imagine a Makora Pakora.

BERLIN...DIA!

I'm not in Berlin at the moment.
I'm wandering around deepest Rajasthan in India, shooting an album cover for Shpongle.
Here I am in Alwar two days ago helping a pigeon that my our friend Niranjan rescued from crazed and hungry dogs. Photo clicked by lensmaster Rupert Truman.

People actually like pigeons here - food is left in places all over towns so our featherbrained heroes get enough to eat. Amazing.
The pigeon didn't give me rabies either. Amazing No.2.
I constantly have the feeling that I'm hallucinating here.
INDIA!

Joy To The World

I've just changed the settings on this blog so anyone can post stupid (or not) comments without having to be registerizederized first. Now you have no excuse... apart from the fact that a) you're not reading this blog, and b) you have nothing to say!
Or?

Genius.

Having spent half my life living in London, I'd become totally accustomed to the fact that stuff costs way more than it should and when it arrives (stuff) it's usually a bit disappointing. Money moves very fast... in the opposite direction. That's how it is.
Stuff is cheap in Berlin! I've said it before and I'll probably keep saying it until all my friends move here to be with me and bathe in the glow of genius bargains each and every day.
Not only is it cheap but it's GOOD.
As proof, here's a photo of this morning's breakfast, cost about three quid.
How do they do it?????

Oh, and breakfast was at Cafe Marx, near Görlitzer Bahnhof.
(Wasn't very Marxist though... unless "Seal's Greatest Hits" contains subliminal communist messages - it was playing rather audibly).

Bike! You like?

I've bought a bicycle.
It's shiny and blue and a good deal too: 200 Euros from a shop on Lychener Strasse, not bad for a bike like this. It's a Dutch Sparta and feels like it's made of IRON, and the price includes a year's guarantee. Even better, it has two handbrakes, rather than the annoying "rucktritt" (back-pedal brake) so I don't fall off every time I re-adjust my footing. Now I only fall off when I drink too much.

I slice down the streets like a hot knife through German butter!
Sparta, I love you.

Water... from the SKY!

For weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks now, it's been hot and sunny or even very hot and sunny almost every day. Almost like summer! Yesterday night it rained though and luckily I was there on Shönhauser Allee with my camera so you won't think I'm lying.
I can truthfully say I miss the rain.
But I won't.

A Not Too Far Bridge

The least I can do is post another thrilling photo of my new surroundings as another month rolls past without me really posting anything.

This is Bornholmer Brücke (Brücke = bridge), just around the corner from where I live, photographed exactly eight days ago.

Until 1989, this was an important checkpoint where only a carefully screened select few could pass into the West. On the night of November 9th 1989, this was where the wall first "fell" and East Germans surged through into new dimension of freedom, uncertainty and Coca-Cola. Dramatic and historical stuff. Bends the mind! (Foto: Wolfgang Sünderhauf/Umbruch-Bildarchiv)

Last time I crossed this bridge I was probably too busy checking my phone to think about any of this. How times change.
I don't drink Coke either.

Don't Fret, Friends.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I haven't given up on this blog.
I do though, think it likely that the only one reading this posting is myself!
Back soon, lots to tell, lots to look at!

And probably a special report about the sparrows of Berlin.

(More than) Three Steps To Heaven

A lot of flats in East Berlin are in recently refurbished and converted buildings. These typical old Berlin apartment houses are usually enormous (by London standards anyway) and four or five floors high. Some have nice little lifts newly installed, some don't. Ours doesn't.
Stairs and heavy boxes can be such a fun combination: Oh! How we laughed and sang!

Here is photographic evidence of our long and winding staircase. Feel the pain.

Homeland Extraction - Phase One - COMPLETE!

Well, would you believe it? Absolutely everything went according to plan - and according to MY plan at that! What relief. I'll write more later (I've been lying on the floor for two and-a-half days) but for now here's a photograph of the view from our balcony:
In just a couple of months this panorama will be a lot greener. It's rare to get a wide-open view like this in Berlin, usually one sees the other side of the street. Here though, right in front of our house, is the old no-mans-land between East and West.
Before reunification, our strasse had buildings on one side and THE WALL on the other.
Exclamation marks are appropriate.

Now I've gone and done it.

It's done!
I finished packing (amazing what you can achieve if you forgo sleep) just as the big white van arrived. 45 minutes later I watched all my worldly goods trundling off down the street, wondering if I'd ever see them again. And now I'm off to Gatwick.

I'm actually leaving!
Hang on, does it still feel like I'm doing the right thing here?
Hmmm...
Yes, yes it does. Good to keep checking though.
Now where on Earth did I put my passport?
Huh?

Boxing Records

I have quite a lot of VINYL.
Somehow the amount of records I have in my possession seems to double every couple of years. I have no idea how that happens.
A single LP is light and easy to deal with, you could easily slide it between your teeth and walk up and down the stairs for hours, if you wanted to.
A couple of thousand of LPs are a different matter.

For a while I used those gingham zip-up laundry bags made from shiny nylon that seem to exist absolutely everywhere in the world - that was a mistake. They get too heavy and slice through your palms (even more so if you're a gentle artist only used to carrying fine pencils and the occasional teacup).

It's hard to find the right boxes... wrong shape and the corners of your precious rekkids get all mangled, too big and you can't lift them. Luckily this time around I managed to find some grrrreat boxes - bought them from Access storage. Taped up and glued, they're strong and do the job rather well. Look how neat they are... and what's that? It's a copy of rare Texan acid guitar LP "Where Are We Going?" by ID from 1976. I bought it three years ago and may even get around to actually listening to it once I live in beautiful Berlin.
You never know.

Old House

This is where I live in London.
No, I'm not a millionaire, I share it with four other (nice) people.
Goodbye house!

Removal Illogistics!

So, some months ago I decided on a rough date to move to Berlin.
Time passed, and continued to pass and it was easy to put off having to plan such a big move. And then "suddenly" it was just one month away and I had NO idea how I would do it - hire a magician perhaps?
Panic!

I'm a non-driver, so already that ruled me out for driving duties. My initial plan was to hire a van and then nicely ask (beg) or BRIBE ("I'll buy you dinner!") a couple of friends to drive it all the way there from London. I figured that all the big international hire firms would let me hire a van and let me drop it off at one of their depots in Berlin. I figured wrongly. Hertz were the only one who offered this service, and at £1000 I had no problem turning them down.
Panic!

So, then I managed to convince said driving pals to drive the van all the way there and all the way back again. One agreed to drive it out and the other agreed to drive it back, but neither felt they could do both, so I suggested that I'd buy them both cheap one-way flights (they were both based in London).
All seemed like it might work out ok, until I started to add up the numbers: van-hire (around £400-£500 for a good one including various taxes, insurance and papers), Eurotunnel tickets both ways, petrol, maybe somewhere to sleep halfway through the long journey, "cheap" flights (fingers crossed) and maybe throw in another £100 for surprise expenses along the way. Hmmm, not so cheap.
Panic!

I decided to check out proper removals companies. I requested quotes from a good handful of different companies. Most of them quoted me an average of £1200 (before other weird charges) for a PART LOAD of a large van. In return my own quote was "you must be joking". You can quote me on that.
Panic!

But then, desperately asking around (friends, relatives work colleagues, taxi drivers, checkout girls, etc) two friends of my boss, known here as "Trudie and Del", mentioned that they'd used a small company to ferry large items of furniture, anvils and stuffed rhinos between London and their holiday home in France. They put in a good word for me, I called up the guy and he agreed to do it. Nice large van driven all the way there in around 24 hours plus a bit of enjoyable lifting at both ends, £900. Not bad at all. If it all works I'll probably post the company's details here. Thanks Trudie! Thanks Del!
Relief.

So, now it's all set up, the van arrives on Easter sunday and with a sprinkle of luck, it won't collapse under the weight of the garbage that I'm dragging over to Germany with me. However, I promise to take a photograph if it does.

The Adventure Begins?

My name is Dan.
I am about to move my life, pencils and HEAVY record collection all the way from south London to east Berlin.
WHY?
I'm moving there to be with my wonderful, highly talented, glamorous and German girlfriend. My secondary motive is that Berlin may be just the place for my "career" (cough splutter choke) as a freelance illustrator-stroke-designer to blossom beyond all control.

Am I a complete idiot?
Is this the start of a wondrous new and exciting chapter in my life?

Hopefully this blog will go some way to answering those questions...
... and along the way act as a source of useful how-to/ how-NOT-to tips for me and others also embarking on the same heroic odyssey.