Berlin – Boxing Day

I was hoping for a White Christmas while here in Berlin, but the weather decided to be a little premature. It snowed for a solid four days between the 18th and 22nd of December, but by Christmas morning there was none left. Nothing but damp, cold, grey streets to greet me as I awoke on Christmas morning, and the sense that I was on the opposite side of the planet to where I should be.

For Christmas Eve and Christmas night, Paula cooked up a storm, and for someone who had always told me she cant cook, she was spectacular. I got to feel the old Christmas feeling I know so well by eating myself senseless, resulting in a near inability to move for the hours following the feast. But unlike Christmas’s of the past, there was no basketball out the back with my nephews and brothers to wear off the over indulgence, and there was no knowledge that the next day would be spent dancing in a field in 40’C weather with my best friends to work off the excess calories.

Waking up on the morning of Boxing Day to a message from Sara that she was currently dancing to Stanton Warriors and missing me was pretty much my most difficult point here in Berlin. I am finding it increasingly difficult to give myself reasons why I should be here. I don’t want to be a quitter. I don’t want to be one of those people that moves to a place and doesn’t give it a chance, but every day here in Berlin I am starting to feel like I should be somewhere else.

Boxing Day itself was actually a pretty great day here in Berlin. Paula and I woke up at the relatively early time of 1pm and were out of the house by 2pm. The day was cold, but sunny with a sharp wind in the air as we made our way along the longest remaining stretch of the Berlin Wall. It runs along Muhlenstrasse in Friedrichshain, and is called the East Side Gallery as it has been used as an artist space for countless murals by different artists painting about Germany, Peace, Freedon and the fall of the wall. It was great to see, as I’d been meaning to go there since we drove past it on the Busabout bus while leaving Berlin for Dresden nearly six months ago.

After the East Side Gallery we went into Postdamer Platz and had some Gluwein (hot Wine) at a Christmas market there before heading over to the Sony Centre to see Avatar in 3D. That was pretty awesome, and a really fun adventure, although I feel that we will never again see greatness the likes of T2 or Aliens from Cameron again. After walking out of the cinema, we went up a snow slope constructed in the middle of Potsdamer Platz and slid down on tyre tubes. It was ace fun and its always great to do something that I just could never have done in Australia.

That night we went out to the Berghain and Panorama Bar, which are two massive clubs, one on top of the other in an enormous old electrical building. The Berghain level was closed so we hung out in the Panorama bar dancing, talking and watching more than a few displays of public grossness before heading home at around 7am. Unfortunately it seems to be standard practice for me and Paula to have an argument on the way home whenever we go out on the town, which is pretty much always my fault and stems from the fact that I am feeling unfulfilled and unhappy in Berlin due to my own laziness and pick stupid little things and turn them into fights.

I know that I am a little depressed, and I knew that I would miss my friends and family, so don’t expect me on a plane home anytime soon. So much of how I feel at the moment is my own fault. I have done very little writing for the book, which was my main reason for isolating myself away from my UK friends aswell as my Australian ones. This isolation without reward is making me consistently angry with myself and making other problems seem larger that they would otherwise be. I kinda have a job in and Irish Pub. I don’t like it, and I don’t even know if I’m going to get another shift. I know that every time I have ever started a job I hate it until I feel comfortable and I know what I’m doing, and I’m sure that this is the issue here, but knowing that I could be in Perth or Melbourne earning five times as much in a job I dislike an equal amount makes it hard to keep a smile on while pouring endless pints of Guinness.

But more than anything, it’s the winter. I didn’t expect it to hit me the way it has. It’s not the cold. It’s not the rain. Its certainly not the snow. It’s the fact that of all the things in Australia I love to most it was the barbeques at Como, the trips to the beach with Trent, the blasts on Mundaring Weir road with Billy and Nate, the golf days and the pub lunches. It seems like all that is lost. And I constantly wonder why I am choosing to exile myself and miss out on all that. I know why I chose to do it. So I could write. But if I’m not going to write, maybe I should just accept that I am not going to be a writer and go home and suck it up.

I am sure that when the European Summer rolls around, things will change. There is ten times more stuff to do here in Summer, and I cant say that I haven’t enjoyed the differences in the Winter festive period. I started learning German in 2 weeks and I’m hoping that a little bit more knowledge of the language will help me feel less alone. There are reasons to stay. More reasons to stay than there are reasons to leave. I have not given up yet. I still think I can write this novel. I still think I can get a job I will enjoy. I want to be here for the summer. I just needed to vent.