Wall piece #1

Receipt for Teeshirt, Berlin 2011

After being recommended by every guidebook, blog and website, we followed the advice and headed to Kreuzberg in southern Berlin. A place that was said to have plenty of urban charm, various ethnicities, large markets and still 'underground' enough for it to be considered a cool place to head for the day. It didn't disappoint;but before locating the 'centre' of Kreuzberg, we headed into a beautiful park first, as you have to check out everything that looks remotely interesting when you're travelling, especially if it's in Berlin. I believe the park was called Viktoriapark, and had an exquisite waterfall leading up to a memorial. While we dipped our tired feet in the cold water, the blazing sun kept us warm as we scribbled in our notebooks.

Eventually we found what we were looking for; the markets in Kreuzberg, where we happened upon many little stalls selling literally everything; car stereos, badges, books, jewellery.

This receipt brings back memories of the 2 or 3 bustling streets, with strange scents filling the air, people rushing to and fro and a pleasantly surprising ratio of Kreuzbergers to tourists. I feel that sometimes when tourists outnumber the 'locals' its a strange scenario; an unplanned takeover without consequence.

Feeling as cheapskate as usual I haggled the woman behind the desk of the tiny 2nd hand shop (or vintage shop if you want to be picky) down to 2 Euro's for a t-shirt that suited neither me nor the neighbourhood where it was bought; a 90's 3/4 sleeve Jamaican football shirt.

Pre-Interrail Amsterdam

Despite the red light district and all that it entails, Amsterdam, from what I have seen, can only be described in a similar way to the rest of the Netherlands I have seen; nice. Everything seems to work just a little bit too well, even wierd things that you would expect lure in otherwise. Oh, and clean.


Blurry, hazy contemplations about temptations, whilst dumbing down nicely. There are some snoring French bastards just below my dangerous top bunk bannister clothesline set-up. Looking down onto the indiscernable streets, flanked by fietsen, dappled with trams. Locals, as ever, passionate and (loudly) involved with the football on t.v.

Waiting to get on and underway with the rail adventure, to places with less familiar accents, less talk of skateboarding, more wilderness, debates on trains, sparkling stranger conversations, moments of unseen kindness and hospitality, and plenty of trains.