Not the smoothest start to my Berlin adventure – stood in East Midlands airport with 15kgs of additional baggage as I’d mistakenly though paying for additional baggage would include extra weight allowance, apparently it doesn’t. I decided to risk it, clearly in a Dr. Pepper frame of mind, as I figured it was nobodies actual job to spot people with 2 pieces of hand luggage (even if one is pushing the weight limit on its own), seems I figured correctly, with a few funny looks from fellow passengers and a few deft manoeuvres to hide my extra bag from view and I was there, somehow. The whole airport experience is a little stressful at the best of times, however if you are a bit of an adrenaline junky try getting 2 pieces of hand luggage through onto the plane with you, certainly sets the heart-a-racing let me assure you. It was late when I landed so dumped my stuff in the basic but clean hostel in the West of Berlin, and went for a walk – didn’t really have an aim, just wandering, but thought I might find a bar of some description. I didn’t, well not one that looked very inviting anyway – just lots of large plush embassy buildings, time for bed me thinks, tomorrow is a new day.

Rose early and was all ready for my first day in Berlin. Not sure what type exactly but bought a ticket for the U-bahn and jumped on, heading for the centre (if it has one?). About 5 stops in, some plain-clothes ticket inspectors whipped out their badges and asked to see our tickets. Clearly my ticket was not what I thought it was, as my new German brothers didn’t seem too happy about it. I attempted to explain, they just looked at me with stern faces and ushered me onto the platform at the next stop. I apologised and explained that my German isn’t good and I couldn’t see any explanation in English at the ticket machine. Apparently this is not good enough, they proceeded to ask for my id, name and address, when I asked why? I wish I hadn’t as it turns out they were issuing me with a €40 spot fine. For an honest mistake, on my first day in Berlin! No, I wasn’t too chuffed, I refused the option of paying it immediately and asked where I could make a complaint. This really seemed to grease the wheels of our relationship and after a brief discussion, they saw me off into the Berlin sun, with a sarcastic “God Save the Queen”, just to put the icing on our lovely little friendship cake. First day of my honeymoon and it was in danger of ending in tears.

I’m usually very good at remaining positive in the worst situation, but I was struggling with this one. The shock of how I’d been treated and their apparent anti-British sentiments had made me shake, and I wondered if I’d made a big mistake coming here. I found a café and sat reading a copy of ‘Zitty’ (listings magazine) with a coffee, which helped, as I studied the staggering array of dj’s and artists playing over the next 2 weeks – ah now I remember why I came here.

Perhaps Portugal had given me a bit too much confidence about throwing myself into these situations, but it wasn’t proving so easy. The big difference was the language, I was so determined to make the Portugal thing work that I’d been learning Portuguese for almost a year when I finally went out there. I had tried to pick up the broken fragments of my GCSE German skills in my last few weeks in Lisbon, but an English man learning German in Portugal, just didn’t seem right to me. I was a bit unsure where to start in looking for jobs and a place to live and feeling a little high and dry. I came up with a cunning plan and decided to search on Facebook for English speakers living in Berlin, and focused on those that said they were teachers or similar and wrote them a letter requesting help and advice. At times I find my faith in human nature is severely tested these days, but this experience did a lot to restore it as the majority of the people I wrote to responded and were tremendously helpful. I thanked them profusely and continued my quest with renewed confidence and feeling a little less lost and lonely. A few drinks helped too, I had met one of  the guys from my dorm, a French guy called Idir, who said he was heading to a club later if I fancied it. Why not, no job, no place to live, all this progress, I deserve it? The club was a bit commercial for my tastes, but it was kinda fun and the crowd seemed really friendly, possibly linked to the 2 for 1 offer on Becks Gold. I lost Idir late on and after a few laps round the club decided he must have left, so headed back. Woke up on the S-bahn at 6am in Spandau, at the end of the line, so had to get off and wait for the next train back I’m sure a review of some earlier entries would confirm this is not the first time something like this has happened. I figure I have a slight case of narcolepsy, which is a wonderful bed-fellow for my insomnia. You got hand it to the big fella, he has a sense of humour – When I want to sleep, I can’t and when I shouldn’t sleep, I can’t stay awake. A flashback of various incidents of falling asleep at inopportune moments seems to confirm my theory. I mean, How many people have fallen asleep stood up on a nightclub dancefloor before, I have. Amusing though it seems, my girlfriend at the time didn’t think so, and I was rather rudely awoken by the flat of her hand, I guess I could see her point. However, it was a little harder to find the time I fell asleep on Barcelona’s underground and woke up without my wallet, amusing.

It was proving harder than I’d imagined finding somewhere to live and after 10 days of hostel life I was finally moving to place I could call my own for a couple of weeks – I’d arranged a temporary stay in a one-bedroom flat while the owner returned to her native Israel (Oh yeah, think I may have mentioned this in the last quick update entry). Hostel are fine and can even be fun places to stay when you’re travelling or on your jollies, but when you’re flat and job hunting, they’re a little less ideal. It had been fun, but I was more than ready to get out of there.   

My initial doubts about making the right decision were gradually being eroded as Berlin revealed more of itself to me, the more I saw the more I liked. And moving into this new place made a huge difference, not only did I have my own space, but  it was also in a pretty cool, laid back neighbourhood to the north of the centre, Prenzlauer Berg. Not only that but the weekend I moved in was also the weekend of a music conference/festival thing by the name of Popkomm, the line-up was staggering and harsh decisions had to be made, but made they were.

It started on the Thursday night, I’d stayed in touch with Idir from the first hostel I was staying in and he decided to come along. A few drinks round mine before we head out. Idir brought a bottle of vodka and was keen for us to finish it before leaving, oh dear! I was feeling a little merry as we rode the tram to Warschauer Strasse, Idir was feeling a little lass than perky and decided he needed food. The Studio !K7 party I’d opted for wasn’t open yet anyway, so Kebab stop it was. I just settled for a beer. Unfortunately, the Kebab hadn’t had the desired effect and my new French friend decided he wouldn’t make the club, so I headed there myself. Maybe I was a bit more drunk than I had imagined as I had managed to lose my bearings, I headed back to where I though the club was but it seemed to have moved. We’d only gone over the street hadn’t we? After 30 mins of staggering around lost, I finally resorted to asking someone I heard with an English accent, he pointed over my shoulder and over the road, “Just there” he said. Hmmmm, curious. The party had started well but became amazing the minute Henrik Schwarz took over the selections which ushered me into a frenzy of vodka-fuelled dancing! Managed to stumble out of there about 6ish, only to get a U-bahn the wrong way, get one back, get a tram, that I thought would head towards home, but took a sharp right and started heading east out of the city!! Aaargh, ran back from the first stop and finally get the correct tram! Hit my bed around 7.30ish. Good preparation for the following night, Sonar Kollektiv’s 10 year celebration night at a place called Tape.

That night I arrived at a big industrial building that looked like a paper factory type place after following my map, with no evidence that it was the right place apart from a gathering outside it. It was though, and like Charlie Bucket clutching my golden ticket, I headed in. I think the place is pretty new - nice space though, 2 rooms, lots of modern loungey type wooden furnishings and high warehouse ceilings with a serious sound-system. The bigger room was all set up for the bands, and the smaller one had djs playing. I kept switching not wanting to miss the action, but Dixon n Alex Jazzanova were playing in the smaller room, so it was all good. Then the band action started so switched again, checking out Eva Be and the B’s, nice mellow vocal stuff, followed by a bit of Wahoo, before Christian Prommer's Drum Lessons, with no less than three drum kits on stage, the class was set.

I met a nice group of British bods in there - well I say British, English living in Scotland, Scottish living in England and Half German, half Scottish living in London or something like that - was really enjoying their company ‘til they happened to mention they'd been to a place called Tresor last night and then like an icy dagger through the heart, they said Osunlade had played there (Bit of a personal hero, I’d so love to see this guy play - Ouch, this one's gonna bruise!!) Luckily there was a suitable array of distractions to take my mind off it.

A real highlight was Mr Prommer's Ensemble doing a live version of 'Strings of Life' which (to steal a wonderful phrase from Amanda) totally rocked my face off. I could only imagine how could it must have felt to be the keyboard player playing those classic synth chords. After they’d finished,  I dipped into the other room for a while as they started setting up for the Sonar Kollektiv orchestra, a World premiere no less, and it was going off in there - hit the dance floor and seemed to be surrounded by stunning girls wherever I looked. If this was heaven I had well and truly arrived.

Unfortunately heaven had to wait a while, there was no way I was missing this. SKO were just about set up, a few band introductions and we were almost there, bit of a stellar line up too - vocals alone, Lisa Bessange (Micatone), Georg Levin, and the jaw droppingly gorgeous Clara Hill. A string section down the front, brass section to the left, drum kits and keyboards at the hands of various people I should probably have recognised from Jazzanova and the other Sonar Kollektiv groups. Talk about anticipation. Over the next 40 - 60 minutes or so I kinda lost time and got a bit emotional, just reflecting on how I'd first heard of Jazzanova through the Hill brothers and it kinda stuck (see what you’re responsible for Mikey, Peter hmmm – cheers guys!!) Then go full circle and being one of the main reasons for me moving to Berlin, and here I was at the label’s 10th B'day party, with a live group playing Jazzanova's classic tracks, and a smattering of other SK releases, throw in a bit of Deyampert, Levin's "Got Somebody New" and to top it all off one of my desert Island discs "Let your Heart Be Free" to finish on. Thought I was gonna die. But just before I did, it was time to hit the other room, for more music and a bit more shakin’ to finish on - bit hazy by this stage but must have crawled out of there around 5.30 - 6, got on the right tram this time. What could go wrong? Must have nodded off on the tram, as I woke to the announcement that this was the end of the line and I had to "Einsteig Bitte", stepped out into the bright rays of sunlight to discover, I was back exactly where I'd got on in the first place! Aaargh!! This Insomnia - Narcolepsy thing’s a real bitch at times! Forced myself to stay awake by remaining standing on the next tram, and hit the sack at around 7.30am again.