Sunday, May 30, 2010

Back from Berlin

I really should write something

I really should

So my knees are buggered from walking for hours and hours around museums, galleries and other places of quizzical interest. Oddly, it turned into a quasi-WQC revision jaunt, spliced with several near fights with my brother caused by nothing more than absolutely diddly squat (on reflection). There were at least four occasions where I stood on the street (mostly on Frankfurter Allee) growling like a rabid, mean dog, ready to let the bony, knuckled and shoed ends of my limbs fly in my bro's mushy face and thoroughly hittable body.

But that's just us. And suddenly I remembered why I gave him a black eye when he was 12 and I was 14 and why he chucked a Henry Hoover at my head in retaliation.

Ah, the sweet, painful joy of fraternal understanding/misunderstanding. As is our custom, in less than a second, we forget all about the aggro because that's just the way it is and always will be. And the funny thing is I have absolutely no bloody idea what propelled me into extreme annoyance. Not an inkling. I never do. It's just us and 29 years, methinks.

So, the German capital was brilliant and fed my unnerving habit of buying 9.95 euro museum guidebooks. I even bought a Nefertiti head bookmark. Oh. Buying. Shoot. I spent way too much money. Before I even got to Berlin, there were the damn "cut price" Oakleys. What compelled me to splurge a sum of money I am too ashamed to type up, I'm not so sure. The basic urge for sunglasses could have been better sated by a visit to Amazon and buying some £15 Vans shades. But noooo... The buying of useless crap and appalling food escalated.

This little holiday was meant to rejuvenate me after the long long haul of work that I have been undertaking all year, and it did the trick ... mental health-wise ... physically, I was a broken wreck, rubbing Voltarol cream into the back of my knees every four hours. My lack of bodily fitness - he says as he chain-smokes the fags he bought back by the tax-paid carton - is a total disgrace. Getting back a few hours ago, I felt like too much of a flimsy, cracked husk to do anything but dribble and gurgle in bed and in front of the computer.

But, incredibly, I didn't write a quiz question for a whole week; thus it truly was a holiday.

Anyway, must look through quiz stuff in these wee early hours. Cos there's that thing coming up very soon, and I have no idea whether I'm match fit. Must look at Olympic champs, must look at foreign hat manufacturers and famous Koreans and Middle Eastern figures. Ciao.


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