The Berlin Extravaganza 1

It was a day like any other, until someone asked Nile Rodgers on Twitter if Chic was going to play in Berlin on the 25th February, and he replied "Yes!" Immediately, the dented wheels in my brain started moving and clonking about the prospect of a much awaited meeting with the man behind so many of the great songs that have paved the paths of our lives for the last 35 years or so. And in Berlin of all places, the city I'd longed to see for such a long time.

So off we went, for a long weekend in the capital of Germany and a night of disco and funk, my alternative rock husband tagging stoically along.

It was cold and snowy and the city bustled under grey icy skies, but that didn't stop us from scurrying about the tourist must see, taking it all in, the Brandenburg Tor and the protesters outside the US Embassy, next to the infamous Aldo Hotel, a Starbucks with no seats (the scrooges), off to the ZDF café instead (much better), a gasp getting out of the subway into Check-point Charlie, as though the weight of all that had happened there still lingered in the air, the bits of wall turned into works of art, the beautiful subways stations, the great big modern buildings, the rebuilt monuments, a constant reminder of standing up again after the devastation of war, the man offering to help us when we stood staring clueless into a map (thank you Berliners, you rock!), smiles on people's faces everywhere, delicious brunches hidden in patios or by the lake, the film-like eeriness of the Nikolaikirche in the night, as the foggy mist and black birds softly floated around it, the busy Alexanderplatz, the art, and life, and energy of an unique city.

Everyone I know who's been to Berlin say they love it. Indeed, you can't but.

             Nikolaikirche                       The Berlin Wall                                Mitte

And then, Monday the 25th arrived, the day I'd been waiting for. Chic were playing a sort of festival of funk, and the line-up on the venue's website made me think they would be the ones before last to come on stage. Doors opened at 8pm, so we had time to rest our weary feet after spending the day sightseeing. After all, we were on the guest list. This was Berlin, the capital of the country renowned for its efficiency. There was nothing to be concerned about...

(to be continued)
(The Berlin Extravaganza II)

The ups and downs of a translator's travellings

Travelling alone for work is no piece of cake. It's no holiday. It's no sightseeing frolics. What is is, is airports, hotels and being stuck in the office. It's wondering where to have dinner, alone, and thinking about getting a sandwich and eat it in your hotel room instead. It's missing your sweetheart and your cat. Does that sound pathetic? Well, it isn't. That's the down side, there is always a down side to things and down sides should be dealt with forthwith. Done. 

Travelling alone for work is going to far places. It's trying new foods. It's testing new approaches. It's learning new words. It's being driven by a tram conductor flaunting a great, big, spiky Mohawk (in that tram, yes). It's scrambled eggs for breakfast. It's being surprised by the hotel providing a Portuguese newspaper (even if it is O Jogo). It's buying souvenirs. It's doing things that matter with people who care. It's being stuck in the office with those people who care doing those things that matter. There will be doctors and nurses saving peoples lives with the help of a machine that speaks their language because I translated it, checked it, and gave it the Go Ahead! Does that sound cool? You bet it is. That's the up side. And the up side of things is what makes you go on that trip for work again and again, by yourself, without complaining.

Source: Luk Thys, courtesy of Finland Tourist Board

* I didn't bring my camera this time and I want to post this now. So. That's why.

Source: me. My adorable Lizzy.