Let's take a few steps back. When I moved to Ireland back in 2007, I made friends with a couple of German girls, my first real friends in a new country. In particular, a petite, blonde-haired, blue eyed, slightly stand-offish girl named Franzi and I became after I had a mini breakdown in front of her. During a rather stressful night at a new job, I dropped a tray of glassware, smashing it everywhere. I went outside to be alone for a few minutes, she happened to be heading to the same spot I was, and while she wasn't overly comforting (in fact, not at all at that point, but when I told her I was finding things hard, she gave me some perspective and basically told me to harden up), it was nice to have someone there at that time just listening to what I had to say. The moment I knew she was a friend for life was when, a good 9 months later, I convinced her to quit her job and come on holiday to Turkey for 2 weeks, taking over the booking for someone else who couldn't come. We had an amazing time and it was, and is, so good to have someone in my life that would quit their job in order to make things better for me. In fairness, it was a shit job that I had quit a few months earlier, but still. The gesture meant alot.
Back in October I visited Franzi and her boyfriend Jamie in Berlin. It was the first time we had seen each other in over 2 years. Besides seeing my family for the first time in over a year when I came home from Ireland, it was the most excited I had been to see anyone, ever. She greeted me at the train station in Alexanderplatz and we returned back to her and Jamie's place for some home-made soup her Mum had made for us. The first night was spent catching up on 2 years worth of gossip and drinking excessive amounts of German wine, which I adore. I think its the high sugar content. I was still pretty tired from the previous nights hardcore techno clubbing in Hamburg, so a night in with soup was a much appreciated change of pace.
The next morning we set out as early as physically possible (just after midday) and headed straight for the last remaining stretch of the Berlin wall, known as the East Side Gallery. If I'm being completely honest, my knowledge of history is pretty pathetic. I know about the Nazi's and their involvement in World War II etc, but when it comes to the specifics of German history and particularly the East/West divide in Berlin, I was completely in the dark about what had happened, and why, well into my trip. I put that blame mostly on my poor high school education, but the fact that it was a poor education can't be blamed on anyone in particular. I remember not being interested in German history at high school, but the fact of the matter is I just went to a shit school, that's all.
Despite my lack of historical knowledge, I knew what the wall stood - and fell - for, and the murals and its physical presence make it impossible not to have emotion wash over you. It's hard to believe such a divisive creation was in effect until so recently. It's been 21 years since the wall fell, but in the scope of history that is not long ago at all. It's less time than I have been alive for at any rate.
The proceeding days were spent touring the city, visiting monuments (the amazing glass-lift-shaft-aquarium for one, pictured left for one), important buildings, and generally being hungover. On my second night in Berlin, I had my first official German meal: Bratwurst, with sauerkraut and mashed potatoes. I've said it before, and I will say it again: I am not the worlds biggest fan of sausages. Don't ask my why, they just weird me out. But this was delicious. So delicious that I had seconds, and possibly thirds, I can't remember. Sadly, apart from other wurst and brötchen, I can't remember trying very much authentic German food so my holiday wasn't much of a culinary journey. But to be fair, I am no culinary expert anyway. I do remember eating a lot of cured meat, a lot of nutella for breakfast, and consuming much beer. So very much beer.