Neutrinos in Berlin final day

I miss the sounds. The loud chirping sparrows, the turkish music swirling from car-radios waiting at the traffic lights on the junction at Silbersteinstrasse and Hermannstrasse. I miss the screech of car tyres around that same junction in anticipation of a sugar hit from the Burger King Drive-Thru next door to our block of apartments. I miss the sound of our bare feet on laminate floors padding about making coffee, opening doors and windows, amplifying all the sounds from outside. The shower was good..set by a window which you could open the top half of wide, like a door and stare at the sky and the swifts hurling themselves around in thermal loops. I miss the anticipation of who we will met today. Monday, yesterday was our final day,with our first appointment being at the British Embassy, passports, security checks, gates, air locks.. then waiting in the foyer next to a photograph of the Queen. Banners saying, Shopping is Great Britain, Knowledge is Great Britian, Creative is Great Britian..... shopping?? Hmmm Miriam our contact appears and she is German and small and young, she shows us around the public area. The building is very 1990s in it's appearance. We drink water and share our purpose for meeting. Soon the tiny woman is on fire with ideas of how this weighty institution steeped in history and bureaucratic sheets and blankets can assist. Let's see what happens there. Last task was to deliver a Butcher book to Funkhaus, its place of origin. We knew it would be unceremonious as the manager of the building, our point of contact, Susanne Graef was on leave. We buzzed over on the train, had to memorize a page from the book of an impression of Jon at the correct tram stop. In the summer heat the journey was easy and calm, we had only visited in deepest winter and the memory of the journey is shrouded in effort! There it stood, smaller than I remember. We went in, laughed at the familiarity, gave the book to a red faced man and said goodbye. As we walked around the outside of the building to the exit, we saw an open door, couldn't resist but go in, for one last taste...and found the Milch Bar open. In 2008 it was moth-balled. It has a red sparkly ceiling and genuine 1950s decor, nice to see it back in working order.We drank very milky coffee.

I saw a man from the previous night, he had played at Ausland. We bumped into him again at the tram stop and chatted. He was going to London the following day and Sal was invited to his gig at Cafe Oto. It feels easy to meet people here, you see them again and again, there is a community. We leave Berlin. Thinking about other cities of Germany, Berlin feels like the estranged child of the family, who has had a different upbringing to the rest. Other stuff happened to it and so it remains unique in character, Berlin is unlike anywhere else.