A Traveller's Tale.

A warning! This article, at over 500 words, is not for the faint-hearted. Please note this blog entry also marks my discovery of the 'strikethrough' tool, which I have utilised at various points to tone down, or up, this tale.

No, not the 'travellers' whose appearance in caravans and motorhomes can strike fear into the heart of any well-to-do middle class gent or dame.

Rather, the weekend traveller I have become since entering the 'serious' world of work 6 months ago. Regular readers will know of my recent jaunt to Berlin, where it occurred to me, not for the first time, that you can take the awkward posture and gait of a lifelong geek, and place it in ultra-cool, bohemian surroundings, but the pretence pretty much ends there.

The star of this piece, of course, 'tis I, the Baker Street Irregular. The setting, East Berlin, home to artists, musicians, 'bohos', punks and, last weekend, myself.

My natural ability to look uncomfortable in any situation is something I have come to grips with over the years, and dealt with accordingly; usually by avoiding trendy places like the plague. Unfortunately, on Saturday night in Berlin, I found myself isolated with two friends who relish any opportunity to immerse themselves in pretentious surroundings - Jin Smoth and Jan McCorthy, anagramise(?). Coming out of a bar at 4am, the rest of the bunch cleared off back to the hostel, leaving me, Jin and Jan to explore the area. Strolling down a street in the bitter cold, a gap was spotted in a wall (vague, I know). Beyond a repetitive banging could be heard that, I was reliably informed by my cronies, represented the strains of 'Techno' music. Jin and Jan, like hounds on the scent, quickened their pace, whilst mine slackened. We entered what was once an industrial estate, and in turn a particularly shabby looking warehouse, in a darkened corner of said estate. A curtain was swept back, we parted with one euro each, and we were in. Jin and Jan made a beeline for the dance floor, where Jin proceeded with his best Ian Brown impression (knees raised as if climbing a staircase, right hand clasped around the very base of a bottle of lager, prodding the air with the bottle's neck), whilst Jan opted for the finger pointing (which I pointed out would be considered very rude back in Blighty), a wiggling of the hips and a shuffling of the feet. Both looked instantly at home.

I stood awkwardly, then deciding to give the old dancing lark a try, adopted my tried and tested 'hands on hips, alternate shoulder thrusts' that may have been subconsciously inspired by Bucks Fizz. After a couple of minutes of quietly committed twisting, Jin McCorthy turned to me, mid-finger points, and looked me up and down. Smiling, I nodded towards him; two dancers appreciating each other's work. "Very noisy!" I bellowed, leaning over to him.

He brushed my comments off, with a look I now recognised as contempt. "Have you never danced non-ironically?" He inquired - ironically, non-ironically, if that makes sense. I drew a sharp intake of breath, and tried to mask the hurt I felt. "What do you call this?" I asked; nodding down at myself: I hadn't ceased my Bucks Fizz tribute, and felt it may have gone unnoticed.

Jin merely raised eyebrows, and fingers a-pointing, made his way through the crowd of rectangular-spectacle wearing, impeccably clad Berlin folk. To quote Joseph (he of the much-vaunted, and many coloured dream enhancing outergear), 'I was left alone'.So what does one do, finding themselves all alone, in a trendy club, a long way from home, with cheap continental lager readily available?

The answer for this intrepid traveller, was settle down in a comfortable sitting chair beside the dance floor, and fall soundly asleep, awaking 2 hours later, at 8:30am, to largely the same scene I was faced with before my nap.

Whilst this did my kudos no help in the eyes of Jin and Jan, and indeed gave rise to a vicious rumour that I slept in every nightspot we entered, I had something of the last laugh, stepping out into Berlin at 9am relatively sober, fully awake and ready for the day.

The End.