Berlin

Berlin. 6:45 AM. Walk under a subway tunnel for about thirty minutes looking for a train station. Get in a taxi instead and go to the hostel. The canteen is filled with kids and cheese and pieces of ham with sweetcorn and chilies in. Sleep on the sofa for a bit and walk towards the massive tower in the centrum. See an apparition, God walks across the road in front of us and enters a working mens club.

Get approached by a Bosnian asking for money in centrum. Give her a strawberry, and look in all the car dealerships. Look at Bentleys, Ferraris, Mercedes and Volkswagen campers. Walk past the American embassy and a 6 seater bicycle that goes around in a circle. Throw strawberries at the SS police. Make a mockery of the tank memorial and squash a strawberry on the plaque to mourn the bloodshed.

Take a photo for some Polish girls and smell terrible. Get lost in the Holocaust memorial maze and shout stuff in English. Get a KFC and argue with the stupid women who serves me. She gives me a zinger tower meal, but not a wicked zinger tower meal, so although I get a hash brown and cheese in my burger I don't get two hot wings or some gravy. She can hardy speak English the dumb bitch. Walk around for ages and get vaguely lost on the tram back to the Generator Hostel.

Have a wank in the shower and fall asleep panting on the bunk bed. Wake up and a mexican walks into the room shortly followed by a Canadian couple. The fake Americans persuade us to go on the pub crawl so a posh English girl takes us on a train to a bar called Zapatos. The front is a rock club with a metal band blasting away, the back has a ping pong table and sofas and a dog and people smoking spliffs, sniffing coke and drawing graffiti. The back garden has three separate bars; each playing a different genre of Jet Set Radio music. There is a fire in a bucket and a man is offering to sell speed, a small bandstand has benches on the top. Up the four flights of stairs that stink of piss a man with a grey beard is working on a painting. An elegant couple and a bohemian boy are sat with him drinking red wine. His art is all over the walls and its all pretty nice to look at.

I challenge a guy to a ping pong match and I'm drunk. He plays for a while before smooching a sexy sexy girl and passionately kissing his dog. The guy with the joint comes over and lets us play doubles. He's on Dan's team against me and Tom. He's called Lazer. He chucks us the joint and watches the ball go past him with no effort to hit it with the paddle. Because its a pub crawl we have to leave and the graffiti guys look disheartened that we are with the guide.

The next bar is average, underground and expensive. Really stoned now, its hard to talk to these people with weird, Canadian, Spanish and Sweedish accents. Dolled-up blond prostitutes are hanging around outside the bars with skirts. The next bar is all white, with mirrors everywhere. Me and Dan can't get out of the place because every corridor is a dead end. Find some steps and they lead to a dance-floor. Me and Dan start to get into it, dancing and looking around. These girls are all really thin, these guys all have spiked gelled hair, these kids are all underage! Eventually we decide to sort ourselves out and leave. Get lost walking around looking for Tom and the group or food, or a tram. We find a tram and luckily some girl reading a book and a man in a suit tell us we're headed towards the hostel.

Back in the bar with a pint, four pretty, but also obviously underage, girls approach us. "I'm young and dirty, buy me alcohol". We tell them to 'do one' and sit with some English girls. They're Northern, one is ginger and another has lost her voice. They're here in Berlin for the Techno scene but are not raving tonight. They go outside for a fag and come back in with a ten foot german man with greasy black hair and a leather jacket called 'The Generator'. He keeps on pretending to fart and lets me beat him at an arm wrestle. Then when Tom comes back with the Mexican, The Generator starts to do Arnie and Hitler impressions, complete with goose step and finger mustache akin to Basil Fawlty. The girl with no voice keeps on trying to stroke my hair, she's looking at the hole in my jeans and trying to give me presents; a blue tit earring and a white flower. She's telling me dirty things but I'm not avon any of it. Prefer to go to bed and listen to Belle and Sebastian on my phone.