Ich bin Berliner

I'm still reflecting on my trip to Berlin for Gaz's stag-do last week. It was very strange flying on my own for the first time and if I'm honest a little lonely (everywhere you looked there were friends, lovers, families - It felt like the opening scene of Love Actually) but as soon as the rest of the lads had touched down on German soil to join me, all such thoughts were banished.

Berlin is a fantastic city. Maybe it's just my rose-tinted spectacles but there seemed to be an effervescence about the place. I can see now what must have attracted Bowie. Perhaps it's the cathartic escapism of a city shrugging off its past; perhaps it's the juxtaposition of youthful vibrancy against the bleak, cold war architecture.

We were welcomed into the pubs, bars and clubs and glorious times were had by all. Chatting and dancing with the local Berliners, I was surprised at the general bonhomie towards us 'Britishers' but then maybe that says more about me and my hang-ups, brought up as I was on on a diet of Dad's Army and the like. Even the landlord had the good humor to joke when we checked in, "and what ever you do, don't mention the war."

Ultimately it was an excellent send off for the husband-to-be.

I wonder if I'll ever get back to Berlin. Having been to Germany three times in recent years, I feel fondness for the country. Is an Englishmen allowed to say that?