Sometime in the last few weeks, I reached the mid point in my trip and became almost compulsively reflective. Like every little detail of my day to day life demanded writing home about. For example, the fact the you can buy 'dick milch' (a kind of thin, runny cream, or 'thick milk') in the supermarket just had to be shared with all the vile and juvenile friends I left at home. This is as suprising to me as it must be to you, given that in 4 months the only communication I've had with home has been via banal facebook status updates (“amy isst vegane curry wurst,” “amy raucht zu viel gras”) a few photos early on and more commonly, “I love you, I miss you but I'm never coming back” emails, text messages and phonecalls.
Spending a lot of time with Alicia in the past two months definitely fed this nostalgia for home and made the memory of Melbourne burn brighter in my heart. Recently I've even found myself listening to Architecture in Helsinki by choice. I guess it only takes a few months away to be overcome by the kind of sickening patriotism that has you in tears over the kind of twee indie pop that would usually have you reaching for a bucket (sorry AiH fans!).
Last Wednesday was bittersweet – saying goodbye at the airport to one old friend and one new one, both headed for Australia in the space of an hour. I had totally underestimated how benificial it would be for my mental health to have Alicia in Berlin. People talk about how liberating it is to be in a city where no one knows you. Like you can totally reinvent yourself or finally find your 'true, authentic self' or some hippie shit. I personally found the process of reconstructing my identity and personality for everyone I met boring, draining and in short, a total drag. I was sick of the sound of my own voice, telling the same stories in answer to the old question, “Where are you from and what are you doing here?” I know I sound completely bitter and cynical but what I'm trying to emphasise is this: In a place that's otherwise totally unfamiliar, having someone around who knows your history along with all your insecurities and mild neurosies, who's seen you in the morning in your oldest undies and Frenzal Rhomb hoodie, who's smelled your farts and sat around with you all day in the lounge room that you share - coming down, eating soy dogs and watching the Mighty Boosh on youtube, can be your saviour. Sitting in my kitchen, drinking tea and catching up on gossip with Alicia was the first time in the two months I'd been in Berlin that I actually felt grounded and...I dunno...human. There I go – from jaded old cynic to fluffy hippy in the space of a paragraph.
The same has to be said for the dear Jimmy Cliff who, happily, has not left Berlin. It was also pretty affirming that these two friends from home got along so well with my lovely new friends here. I remember reflecting when we were all fuck-eyed at KitKat club how pleased I was with my ability to seek out and befriend all the rudest nerds on every continent!
Alicia's last week in Berlin was pretty amazingly trashy, culminating in her last Saturday night here dancing to Ramstein in a goth club with a stoner lesbian vampire we'd met earlier in the evening. It also brought about a lot of reminiscing about home. At the airport I wished I was also getting on a plane. Not to Melbourne. Not yet. But somewhere. I hoped that traveling back into Berlin on the TXL bus I would see the city like I'd just got off the plane. Like somehow just visiting the airport would be like hitting 'restart' on my trip. Instead I came home to find it all comfortingly familiar. Of course. What did I expect? You can't just erase all your experiences of a place and start again. It was a pleasant realisation. But I'm worried that this and my reflective mood might be indicative of my complacency towards actually DOING stuff here. So next week I'm on the move again – hitchhiking to France with Jimmy to see the final stages of Le Tour. Then to Edinburgh for Fringe and to see the the Sisters and their entourage.
I'm curious to see how long this contemplative mood will last. I'm not promising anything. This might be my first and only blog post. But for now, subscribe and enjoy. Thanks for reading.
