Journey to the Centre of the Earth

Well someone or other convinced me to go into the tunnels under Paris with a friend whose map had been printed from the internet. We were warned that there could knee-deep water and possible forays off the map, not to mention the fact that you're not really supposed to do it and it's possible one may run into freaks down there.

We passed through a building site, a gypsy camp and through a glass strewn hole in a tunnel of disused railway tracks to gain entry.

Yes, it was wet, there were points of squeezing through gaps or finding caved in tunnels but mostly it felt safe. That is until we saw another light in the distance and one in our group picked up a rock, just in case. The light approached, our group silenced. Boys in front, girls behind. But it was another bunch of intrepid explorers so everything was fine.

We saw a rock formation



in a room filled with carvings some recited poetry







And old telephone cables



before coming out the other side.



Exciting as it was, I don't think I'll be doing that again. And the looks on the metro - when people saw sandstone caked in our hair, wet jeans and spattered clothes along with my general preference for being above ground mean I won't be going down again.

SLAM!

Last night we went to a slam poetry night at a bar in Belleville called Culture Rapide on the corner of rue Belleville and Julien Lacroix. Slam poetry is a competition where poets perform their piece and are given a score by the judges - in this case picked randomly from the audience - then a final follows and a winner is crowned.

My favourite poem of the night, perhaps because I understood it, began with "When I grow up I'll drink whisky, eat peanuts and smoke cigarettes".

Sadly we didn't see the finals due to the impending last Metro but the mojitos were cheap and tasty, the poetry performative and the locale was just what I'd heard about Belleville - cool in the way of an area only just shifting from immigrant to artist, we all know that bobo is not too far behind.

For more details about slam in Paris click here.

Berlin part 2

These are two images of the same street. If we'd had time I'd have returned to get it from the same angle but that's the reality of traveling. Unter den Linden is one of the main boulevards in Berlin which, like everywhere else, is squirming with growth.







We caught up with Brecht and Hegel and this wonderful artist whose name was Fredrich something or other. I've forgotten already and due to aesthetic reasons, cut his name from my framing of this picture.





On a whim we decided to climb the 300 or so steps of the Victory monument, both forgetting we don't much like heights, so there were some quick snaps from the top and a hurried trip back down the steps. At the bottom you can still see bullet-holes in the mural. (Does one call it a mural is the material in question is bronze?)





Melinda was a little befuddled at my fascination with this vending machine but it sold small plastic rappers, bubblegum and knives. I found the combination interesting. And good value, one could get a knife for 10 centimes with luck, unfortunately I ended up with gum.

My final image of Berlin is from the Altes National Galerie. Aside from my general pleasure at the notion of a museum island (as exists in this fine city) the general care being taken with its reparations is an indication of the value placed on the arts and humanities in Germany. When next we return I have no doubt the whole city will look rather different.

Hallo Aus Berlin!

There was hyper-daggy educational series which we were shown in German classes with that name. Luckily Berlin was nothing like.

Aside from being astonishingly cheap after Paris, the other facets which took some getting used to included the architecture. Both its scope - wide streets, buildings set back from the road - and its bedazzling diversity. This shot shows the way any two adjacent buildings can be utterly different in character and style. We did spend most of our time in the former East Berlin and while the Soviet architecture fascinated me, it was really the contrast with previous centuries of buildings which intrigued me most.





As everyone knows graffiti is a part of Berlin. This was one of my favourites. I thought the next day when we went past on the tram they were preparing to paint over it but no, just the other side of the wall.



This was a restaurant recommended by all-knowing Melinda. Anna Blume on the corner Kollwitzstrasse in Prenzlauerberg. The food was just about half the cost of a Paris equivalent and the outside tables had blankets on the chairs so we could sit there for hours, watching the locals on their bikes, with their dogs or kiddies, doing local things. Besides which it is half flower shop to add to the romance. This is certainly the area we'd live in if there was a move to Berlin.





And this was the milliner next door, I was tempted until I saw the 500 euro price tag for a headband.

David and I were particularly impressed by the Tiergarten. From inside one can imagine oneself miles from any city. There were literal molehills, sculpture gardens, trees and ponds and bridges. Was lovely.






Finally for part one, this was a memorial sculpture to represent the Bohemian refugees who fled to Berlin due to religious persecution. On the site was a church which was demolished by the Russians but now the space is mostly kept free with a tiled representation of the church and a minor explanation in German, English and Czech.




Find out next time what happened on days 2 and 3 for David and Alice in Berlin-town.

Exciting development

I am a regular sleep talker. It's true. But last night there was something of a breakthrough. David heard me speak in French! Unfortunately he could not understand what I said.

Hats off to Cultural Diversity - A Guest Post by David Henley

While ma femme was slaving away at work I thought I'd go out for a coffee and working session at our favourite cafe, when low and behold I ran into another festival of some sort. It seemed the perfect antidote for the mood I was in after finishing The Beautiful and the Damned by Fitzgerald. It was some sort of drum-off between various countries, with marching bands, dancing and fancy dress, one guy gave me two hands of bananas for free and after that it was all a blur.









I followed it to its source on Boulevard Richard Lenoir then followed it all the way to Rue Diderot. I think this may have been the Solidays that I'd seen signage for the last few weeks.







Most impressive, while not as rhythmically endowed, was the parade that followed, a line of green garbage trucks and street-sweepers making it all seem like it never happened.