When a problem comes along, you must...

...deal with it in a calm and mature manner. Devo are not to be trusted.

This is my first update in…well, a while. I do have a number of reasons for this, but I don’t know if I could really quantify any of them as “good”. The words “flimsy” and “poor” and “worthy of a script by Akiva Goldsman” are probably more apt. But I have reasons, nonetheless.

Following my sojourn to Europe, I returned to my brother’s base of operations in good ol’ London town. At this point I began filling out blog entries again, but having not the mind required to navigate the intricacies of the world-wide-wireless-web, and also wanting to see more of Uk, I neglected to post any. This neglect soon became habitual, and I found more and more of my entries were half-written, egocentric ambling passages discussing my philosophical musings on trivial matters and less travelogues of a more insightful nature

...

I am now hoping that my conception of what I was writing matches yours, otherwise I’ve just pointed out a failing that has been present since day one, and only now realised.

But you have to admit, that a hobby designed to peacefully recreate the strategy and tactics of military maneuvers is serving our masters of irony by casting the same effigy’s out of the metal of war (lead).

So we travelled around, we saw many interesting sights, and sighted many interests. I visited a personal mecca – an amazing museum of lead and acrylic (seriously beautiful stuff, but yes, extraordinarily geeky) We visited long lost family (not really long lost, we knew exactly where they were) and we saw more sights and sounds than the primitive Australian eyes and ears were built for. Still, no complaints.

Exceptforthesubsequentlossofdataduewhichresultedinverylittlerecordofmytrip.

OH WELL.

Home now, back to work. I made a terrifying discovery just last week.

Recently becoming quite enamoured with the animated adventures of the metal band Dethklok, I have been watching their DVD, and listening to their album, The Dethalbum (note a trend?). Being quite familiar with both now, I was watching the intro to an episode, and noticed a distinct guitar solo missing. Initially I figured that, as is often the case, the version heard on the album was a more complex, mastered piece of music, that was both longer than that used in the show and more complete. I ignored it, thinking it was just my lack of knowledge when it comes to the creation of a tv show soundtrack…then I happened to watch the DVD on another setup and my world stopped.

I’ve been living a life of movies, tv and video games, in which I’ve experienced is one channel of sound. The guitar solo was missing, but not because they had altered the recording – my TV isn’t playing it at all!!! I feel almost like I’ve had some kind of grotesque contraption of punishing metal and stifling cotton wool attached to my left ear for the last three years. An unfortunate fate that has left me with the inability to hear sonics in the higher registers, and a crooked neck that forces me to constantly correct myself with a rightward veer.

Almost. It’s definitely the TV’s fault.

Oh, I also rediscovered an old and ill-kept blog of mine that I began more than a few years ago…it’s tremendously insightful reading, and I’d encourage you all to STEER WELL CLEAR OF IT.

No really. Like being able to take a step back and marvel at your finished work, I’ve now gained a glimpse into what people mean when they use the words “Nick” “barking mad” and “worthy of a script by Akiva Goldsman” in the same sentence.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED TWICE.

A Letter To You On A Cassette...

...because I'm using some illicit, pre-WW2 technology.

So to quote the Backstreet Boys, I'm back again...But apparently my gift of verbose stupidity isn't. That's a shame. I'm currently having great issues retrieving the blog posts from the second half of my sojourn, but in the process of hunting for such files, I did find something that was quite amusing, to me at least.

What follows is a conversation held over MSN between my girlfriend at the time, and one of my best friends. What amuses me most, is the huge amount of truthful things he weaves in and out of the complete garbage he feeds her. See if you can pick the truth, and when I arrived...

Never give out your password or credit card number in an instant message conversation.

Starbright says:

hi dos fuera de tres no es malos how are you??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I'm alright

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

how are you?

Starbright says:

thank you for fixing my game!!!

Starbright says:

i am good!! trying to install KID PIX

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I have no idea what that is

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

or why it makes you good

Starbright says:

by the way The Nick didnt get all the credit!!

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

he said he got a hug

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

so I told him that next time he was getting a hug, he had to make you call him Alex

Starbright says:

ha ha i know!! i found it amusing!!

Starbright says:

i brought him spidy on PS2!! he is in my room playing it now!!!

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

so you want the dirt on him or what?

Starbright says:

4 sure

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I me anything

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I can peice togeather most of it

Starbright says:

did you go to school together??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

nah

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

well, I knew him back then

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

but not the same school

Starbright says:

oh i see!!

Starbright says:

i had a look at your web page the other day at The Nicks house!

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

ha

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

that can only lead to trouble

Starbright says:

i found it very funny

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

anything catch your eye in particular?

Starbright says:

avril

Starbright says:

wedding

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

ha

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

yes

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I feel that section is largly underappriciated

Starbright says:

i appriciated it!!

Starbright says:

were you at work today??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

yup

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

every day

Starbright says:

get you do any work today??

Starbright says:

The Nick tells me you dont!!

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

well, it's been a bit funny this week

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

does The Nick know you're talking to me?

Starbright says:

no

Starbright says:

why???

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

well, yesterday I was illuding to my conquests, and he was all "Dude, watch what you say, she is in the room"

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

which is making me think maybe he thinks I know something you don't

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

which is why I'm wondering why you're not asking about the bodies he's burried, women he's inpregnated and places he's thrown up on himself

Starbright says:

so tell me!!!

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

Well, I remember once we were at this party, all off our nuts, and The Nick had a bottle of vodka, which was pretty much the last bit of alcohol at the party. This drunk chick was all "just give me one drink" and he wouldn't do it. After a while she pissed off and we didn't hear from her again

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

that is, until the next morning, when we were walking home, there's all these cops and firetrucks and what not at the end of the street; turns out she went to get some more grog, and cleaned herself up on a powerpole at the end of the road

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I think The Nick always felt kind of bad about that

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

that's the only person I know about him killing

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

he's got three women pregnant

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

but only one of them kept it

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

he's throw up pretty much everywhere

Starbright says:

really??? is this all true?

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

we once fell in a river

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

well, you can ask him if you like. He'll probably deny it all, but I mean, hey... who do you trust here?

Starbright says:

omg!!! is there anymore???

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

it was a real good night. one of the guys brought a motorbike inside (we didn't want too many cars and shit in the street), and The Nick tried to ride it down the stairs

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

evidentally, he doesn't know too much about the breaks on bikes, because he punched the biggest fucking hole in the wall at the bottom of the staircase

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

banged up the bike pretty bad

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

and his face too

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I don't have my license, but somehow I got the job of driving him to the hospital

Starbright says:

no way!!! when did that happen???

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

maybe two years ago?

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

that's where that scar on his cheek came from

Starbright says:

omg you not serious??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

yeah

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I remember once we got arrested

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

that was pretty crazy

Starbright says:

what??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

well, we made a bit of a sparkler bomb, and blew it up at this park in box hill

Starbright says:

and the cops came???

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

well, I think they did after we'd left

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

they picked us up a few blocks away

Starbright says:

what am i going to do alex i didnt know any of this!!! i dont know if i can still be with him now that i know he is a killer!!!

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

and we were carrying these wood posts we'd sort of swiped from a nativity scene in front of a church. They said we'd vandalised the church, and they searched us. I had like a pussy little stanley knife, and The Nick had a kind of cool replica pistol

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

they took us in for going equipped

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

The Nick got off with a suspended sentance, I got like seven days community survice and a year good behaviour bond

Starbright says:

does he get violent?? im scared

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

well, he used to beat up on one of his ex's, but she was a total whore. I mean, I had trouble not punching that girl when I was with her for like an hour, and he was there all the time

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I'm sure you'll be fine

Starbright says:

omg what should i do??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I'm sure you'll be cool

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

just don't touch his nose

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

that really gets him going

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I remember once we beat the crap out of these punk kids who tried to mug us

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

he was pretty violent then

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I mean, I was just sort of trying to teach the guy that mugging people isn't nice

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

but I think The Nick wanted to kill the motherfucker

Starbright says:

are you serious i really dont want him in my house now!!!

Starbright says:

i am really worried!!

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

yeah, actually, he's playing Spiderman, right?

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

well, you know that's based on a Marvel comic?

Starbright says:

yeah!!!

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

The Nicks a DC man

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

if that get's him pumped up enought, he's liable to flip out

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

if I were you I'd sneak out a window or something

Starbright says:

your kidding!! where can i go? im so scared

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

don't worry baby, I'm here for you

Starbright says:

what??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

err...

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

nothing

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

just play it cool

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

don't let him know you know

Starbright says:

dont let him know what? and whats this accident he talks about??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

oh shit

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

he mentioned the accident?

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I can't tell you about that

Starbright says:

he said ther was an accident

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

that's the one thing that's off limits

Starbright says:

he says he cant tell me about it!! what happened??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

no way baby

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

that just aint worth it

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

we swore a pact to never talk about the accident

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

hell, I don't even want to think about that shit

Starbright says:

tell me!!

Starbright says:

hes in my room you have to tell me

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I wish I could, I really do

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

but there's nothing on earth that could make me talk about the accident

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I'm taking that to the grave

Starbright says:

why did you call me baby before?? what would The Nick think if he sees this??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I call all girls baby

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

or toots

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

The Nick knows this

Starbright says:

omg now he's yelling at the game what will calm him down??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

do you smoke?

Starbright says:

no ne doesn't either

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

well, he used to

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I think he feels kind of guilty about it

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

it's like a constantly raging inner torment

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

if you blow smoke in his face or something though, it kind of relaxs him a bit

Starbright says:

thats odd are you sure??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

yeah

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

well, it's better if you can actually make him smoke

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

but that might be kind of risky for you

Starbright says:

why?

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

well, he gets real defensive about his smoking

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

if you just casually offer him one it might set him off

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I usually find the best way is to smoke a cigar in front of him to get him craving the nicoteen, then offer him one and have another myself

Starbright says:

i dont have any cigarettes is their anything else that calms him down??

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

well, there the coke of corse

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

but that's kind of a two edge swaoard

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

shit

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

sword

Starbright says:

shit i think he is coming what am i going to do???

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

just run

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

he's not very fast

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

make sure you stay off the roads though, or he'll come after you in his car

Starbright says:

i;m leaving. give me your address so i can come over.

Starbright says:

quikly!!

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

387 Barkly St

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

Brunswick

Starbright says:

okay i'll be there in 20 mins

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

cool

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

you can sleep in my bed

Starbright says:

what?

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

err..

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

nothing

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

forget that

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

see you soon

Starbright says:

are u serious?

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

about what?

Starbright says:

the bed thing.

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I dunno...

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I'm game if you arE?

Starbright says:

You really shouldn't say such things where I can read them, Herr Teretz

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

ARGH!

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

HANG IN THERE!

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I'm COMING WITH MY HARPOON GUN!

Dos fuera de tres no es malos. says:

I'LL BE THERE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES!

Starbright says:

387 Barkly St? Who lives there? That's near my primary school, that's about all I know. Actually, I knew a girl from Primary School lived down there. And relax, you can't drive anyway!

...And the rest is, as they say, a series of events that have happened previous to this point, and recorded for posterity in a chronological format...

Q: At which do you most can't the least? What I most can't the least would be do not a bad job, but always a good.
Song For The Day: “Better Metal Snake” by Dethklok

Intermission

I'm still traveling, and still blogging, but my love of technology has ham-strung me. I'm typing the entries up meticulously on my laptop, but due to the limitations of wireless networks (ie: there's none available), I can't upload them.

Good stories are on their way, I promise.

Day 12 – Poland and Propaganda.

We wake around midday, starving and wanting to see more of our new city, but before that, let me wrap up yesterday.

Firstly, our passports were not checked between Berlin and Krakow. Whether this isn't done, they do random spot checks or we successfully avoided a more thorough examination, I don't know, but we did. Secondly, the hostel we are in has a massive thick wooden door. Through this door, you have a broad tiled hallway, leading to a second wooden door. Through this door is a small courtyard, with a door in the opposite side leading to the hostel reception and rooms. Our room is on the fourth floor, and the reception staff are nice. (he looks a bit like a guy I went to high school with) Thirdly, my cold is getting worse, and I'm sick to the back teeth of it.

I wake to find D and J have headed off for food. Only having one key, and not knowing where they are, I send an SMS telling them I'm out and about, and will meet them back shortly. I am yet to get any currency, so my first port of call is an ATM, where I find out quite quickly, I have NO money. NONE. Panic enters, stage left.

Racing back to the hostel I jump on the computer and check my accounts, the resulting information calming me completely, and allowing me to form a new understanding of ATM's overseas. I use a credit card for all my banking, having all my accounts linked through it. My new info now shows that unless you get a choice of account on an ATM, they use the card type as a default (ie: credit), and draw the funds directly from there. So, I'm not out of money, rather my credit card is dead broke. A simple remedy of funds transfer applied once sees me happier with the state. J and D return shortly after, and we talk about what they saw. The exchange rate has really impressed them, and means we'll be eating like kings for our stay (plus, the size of the dishes is GINORMOUS).

Having regrouped, we head out for another walk around the city, and dinner. We traipse around the Old Town, and see some of the sights. Krakow as a city, is built around Vavel Castle, in two areas. The first area, is Old Town, which inhabits the space the original city would have (most buildings are fairly new, only a few hundred years old). The middle of Old Town is dominated by an open air market, that seems to run almost all hours of the day. Here you can by crafts, souvenirs, and a wide range of foods. We walk the square, and head down a street to walk by the castle itself. Sitting on the peak of a large hill, Vavel Castle overlooks all of Krakow, in remarkably good condition. After sighting a human sized beer tankard heading our way on it's own two legs, we continue our way out of Old Town.

J noted with some irony, that Old Town looks better and newer than the rest of Krakow, This can only be explained by the cycle of tourist money that is required to make an area more enticing, so as to make more money itself. Krakow itself is quite grey. There are tram lines, running an assortment of models, one that is the spitting image of the current 'new' trams in Melbourne. We head on and finally find a burrito bar for dinner. The burritos we order are massive, and leave us worried that we won't be able to finish the order. We make it through, feeling swollen, and head down the street for a drink. Finding a rather ramshackle looking place called “Propaganda”, we head in to find a liberally decorated bar, full of communist-era relics, posters and very very dim lighting. We drink, enjoy the gloom, and then head into the night again (D says the wine is atrocious). I head back to the hostel, my head feeling heavy and sore with cold symptoms again, the other two hunt down a jazz bar. Sleep shouldn't be a problem, tomorrow it might be as we are aiming to visit Auschwitz.

New Thing Learnt Today – Mexican food outside of Mexico is a varying affair.

Day 11 – Border Hopping and Secret Police.

Our final day in Berlin, we leave the hostel to make arrangements for our next leg. The working plan evolved last night quite quickly, the initial idea being that we head to Belgium to eat all the chocolate. Not a bad plan, but like so many, it did not survive contact with the enemy: ie timetables and expense. We could do Belgium, at a cost of 100 euros each, on a 12 hour train trip...and then not actually have a way back to London. (Ryan Air, the domestic/international european version of Jetstar and Virgin Blue, doesn't leave from Belgium for London!) Or...we could look elsewhere. We settle on Poland, it's new territory for the three of us, and it's also blessed with a way back to the UK. Buying our train tickets, we figure we have enough time to see some more of Berlin.

After learning about the struggles and political strangleholds that have afflicted Berlin, I was really curious to learn more about what was going on within the city itself. By now our knowledge of the Nazi movement, WW2 and the East/West Berlin scenarios are pretty good, but they are quite large-scale. Life within the city during those events was a very interesting, and in many cases terrifying, time. Our map had the “Stasi” museum marked on it, and like many important museums and displays in Berlin, it was totally free. We head there, and find it's not far off the track we've beaten for ourselves.

Supplied with english translations of the important displays, we make our way around. The Stasi started out in a dangerously flexible fashion. Being appointed for security, their charter was quite open and allowed them a lot of lateral flexibility. Over time they gained more and more powers, and became more and more aligned politically. Their role evolved to the point that they were becoming a secret police force tasked with monitoring the general populace for signs of insurgents, anti-party activities and espionage. The department grew and grew, at one time having 91,000 full-time staff, and 170,000 “unofficial collaborators” (snitches, informants, etc). The estimated ratio at it's peak was one Stasi member for every 24 Berliners, a hideous saturation and covert repression of all manner of basic rights.

The Stasi were involved in all kinds of clever and immoral activities – they tapped phone lines with abandon, could censor mail in any manner they deemed appropriate, counter-espionage tactics and equipment were created in meticulous manners. Their spycraft was mostly gained from stolen western technology, but advanced and re-applied in all manner of equipment. On top of that, it wasn't uncommon for someone to be pulled in off the street, made to sit on a special chair, and interrogated about their loyalties and activities. The poor person would be panicking and stressing, and in most cases, let straight back out on to the streets. The catch was that the chair had a piece of cloth attached to it that soaked up the sweat of the prisoner, and was then kept so that if that person ever went rogue, they had a method for tracking them down with their tracker dogs. People lived in fear of the Stasi – they could be anywhere, anytime, and working for the Stasi paid well, so the unofficial collaborators were often living quite good lives (covered by official Stasi legends to explain their wealth.) An oppressing time indeed.

As it turns out, this over-saturation appears to be also part of the death-knell of the Stasi's power. Having so heavily infiltrated communities and groups, if that group (such as a church congregation) decided they were going to march in protest, the Stasi spies had no choice but to join in – to step out would blow their cover. Eventually the department was disbanded, and their thousands and thousands of dossiers, reports and profiles were made available. The amount of paperwork they had generated is mountainous, and yet even more documentation was destroyed so as to keep the contents secret. Good riddance to them.

We retreat to the train station, and experience our final Berlin bar. The system here is quite high-tech, with the waitress wearing a mobile order device that allows her to type our request in, and then go serve the next table. The order has been transmitted to the bar/kitchen, and so she can just go pick it up once it's ready – genius!

Boarding the train, we have a cabin to ourselves, but as the tickets read 21, 22, 24 we think that's too good to be true. The train takes off and we start our voyage hurtling north through Germany. We stop at various places along the way, and pass through a barrelling storm that rocks the train ever so ungently. I slip in and out of sleep, mostly as we approach stations, fearing our cabin being invaded – and yes, it happens. A pair of german men join us, but keep fairly to themselves. I doze, and finally we pull screechingly into Warsaw Centralna.

Warsaw Centralna is a dark, concrete cavern. We shuffle up the escalators and find ourselves in concrete corridors, lined with small fluro tube-lit shops. to one side is a roped-off area containing a massive TV camera and crates of gear. We find an ATM, determine the exchange rate is highly in our favour (1 zloty is worth about 50c, or 22p), and get some cash. Further exploration of the station finds us a small smoke-filled bar, where we drink some much needed caffeine before heading out again. Not wanting to get trapped by choice as we were in Berlin, we decide to book our flights home now. A smart move, as we manage to find one at half-price. After wandering the station for another 20-odd minutes, we make our way down to the platform that we earlier determined as sort of being where we need to be (they don't mark the departures and arrivals by platforms, but rather by the group of platforms, ie: platforms 1 and 2 are back-to-back, you get the number of the entire area)

We wait patiently, as a train pulled in a few platforms away steams itself ready. Out of the window hangs 30-odd soccer hooligans waving scarfs, banging windows and chanting various soccer songs. I distinctly recognise the tune to “When The Saints Go Marching In.” Their train begins to pull out, backwards, and the chanting continues...then the train comes roaring back in, the chanting getting louder and more excited, before the train grinds to a halt. Chanting continues, and then abruptly stops. We hear a voice on a megaphone, and finally put two and two together – that camera from earlier is filming them. The director doesn't seem quite happy with that take, and so runs everyone back to their starting positions – train and all.

Ten minutes after our train was due to leave, we start getting a bit anxious. Not being able to speak Polish, our choices are limited. Suddenly, an announcement comes over, and everyone starts moving towards escalators. Figuring that they were waiting for the same trian, and that whatever affects them affects us, we follow. J bumps into someone who does speak english, and gets the gist of what's going on – due to our unruly actor friends, trains are being redirected to different platforms. We follow, happier in this knowledge.

The train backs in and out at least four more times that we see, the scarves waving more and more limply, the chanting becoming more discordant. Our train finally arrives, and I get my first truly eastern European experience. Everyone rushes to board, not caring on the carriage they got on, rather that they are on before it leaves. The train pulls out and we have to battle our way through four over-full carriages before we get to the sleepers. Thankfully we had paid additionally to have a sleeper, and it's well worth it. The beds are not brilliant, but they are mattresses, they have pillows and blankets, and I fall asleep in minutes.

We are woken at 6am by the helpful guard, who repeats “Krakow” as a mantra. We get ready and spend the last 20 minutes of our journey watching the Polish countryside trail by. Arriving at Krakow Glowny, (a much nicer station) we stumble off through a town that has an air about that says to me “Ballarat”, and find our hostel. We get in, we crash.

New Thing Learnt Today – Second Class travel is really not a great idea in Eastern Europe. Pay the premium.

Day 10 – Reichstag and Memories.

Today we have a day of wandering, armed with Tour Guide Mike's stories and knowledge. He very thoughtfully graffiti'd our map with an assortment of circles, acronyms and arrows to indicate places of interest that we really should see, but wouldn't on his tour. We deciphered the hieroglyphs, and recalling our newly gained geographic knowledge, decided to hit the Reichstag as a primary goal.

Marching down the Unter den Linden, we were stopped and asked for directions to a good restaurant. We had to laugh, as the question was asked in the vain hope that we were locals – see? A day here and already we've blended in! We're good. We sent them back the way we came, as we had seen eateries, value and quality being unknown.

The walk continued and took us past the main embassies. The british embassy is a modern design, with street blockades of silver vertical cylinders topped with bright red LED's. We saw a car approach, stop, and two of the cylinders retract into the ground to allow egress. Very slick! In contrast, the current American embassy has a 100ft danger zone surrounding it, with concrete emplacements, armed guards patrolling and checkpoint booths. I can't quite convey the feeling this evokes, but it's a mixture of sadness, irritation and being slightly bemused. They are so paranoid of terrorist attacks, they are exuding aggression in all directions. It's disappointing.

We reach the Reichstag, and are glad to find the oft-murmured tales of day-long queues are not true at this particular time. We do have to line up, but the line moves fairly fast, the doors opening and accepting approximately 30 people at a time. When the queue moves up sufficiently to allow us in, we see that there's an airlock setup, followed by a rather rigorous security check. The gruff german guard is directing people to put jackets, bags, etc on his x-ray conveyor, and not understanding a word of it, I watch closely to see what other people to, so as to be able to follow his instructions, language barrier withstanding. He must have overheard J, D and I talking, and switches to fluent english – these guys are good! We pass the muster, and head for a large lift, which takes the 30 of us directly to the top of the Reichstag.

The Reichstag was suspiciously burnt to the ground just after Hitler gained the power as Chancellor and just before Parliament could elect a new majority, and remained in a state of ruin for a long, long time. After the politics and breakdown of Berlin was resolved, the Reichstag was reinstated as the house of parliament, and a new glass and steel dome has been built to replace the original domed ceiling. A walkway corkscrews up through the dome to a viewing deck at the top, allowing panoramic views of the city. To be blunt, a lot of the view is quite unspectacular: roofs of buildings, grey smoke-stacks, lots of boring looking industrial emplacements. This is quite mundane, until you think about what this view represents – 17 years ago, a lot of this area was poorly built, and a great deal of what can be seen just wasn't there. Thinking in this frame of mind throws the view into perspective, and makes me appreciate it a whole lot more: I'm not just looking at Berlin, I'm looking at Berlin that wasn't here less than two decades ago. After walking the rooftop, braving the freezing rain and taking photos, we head back down the super-lifts.

From here, we're on the out-skirts of West Berlin, to our right is the new Government Quarter (shiny buildings of square and circle designs), and to the left is the Tiergarten. We decide to head left, and walk through a section of the garten as we head back towards the Brandenburger Tor. Something I noticed on the train ride into Berlin from their airport was the extremely common tall leafless trees. Tour Guide Mike had told us these trees were Linden trees, and that they are everywhere – he's right, they truly are everywhere. We stop at a Wurst stand, and eat some genuine german wursts (one wurst, many wurst?), which are truly some of the most delicious sausages I've ever had. The walk continues past the Tor, and takes us the grey expanse that is the Jewish Memorial.

Lining up, we are met by a multi-lingual guide (I love these people, yet am simultaneously hideously jealous) who informs us of a 15 minute wait, and a security check. The Memorial is a lot more than meets the eye – above ground it is the symbolic city of grey blocks, and all that may be represented by this, yet below ground is a startlingly in-depth Memorial that adds gravity and stark realism to what happened. A quote that Mike used was that “a death is a tragedy, one million deaths is a statistic” is fairly true – we cannot truly comprehend the horror and wickedness of such an act, as it's too enormous. The Memorial has stories of individuals who died during the Nazi regime, telling of their lives before, during and ultimately their ends. There are displays dedicated to families, again telling of their lives and the events they suffered, and ultimately where they are now, or how they died during the war. The atrocity is astounding. An organisation based in Israel is trying to gather a list of all those who died during this time, as records are incomplete, and entire families disappeared – Hitler's evil goals were almost achieved in some areas.

We leave the Memorial in a sober state, a much greater understanding of just how important this Memorial is, and what it represents. Now knowing this part of Berlin quite well, we guide ourselves back to Hackse Markt, and find a fantastic Turkish restaurant, it's décor a mish-mash of various mediterreanean styles (we spot greek plates on the walls), before retiring for the night to plan tomorrow's journey – that's right, off again!

New Thing Learnt Today – "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." George Santayana