Dateline: 15.45 22 Aug 1996
Location: Germany, Berlin, Schloß Charlottenburg 
Oh mein Gott
it's so Hott
if it don't Schtopp
I will be Tot!

 The sun continues to glare down, uninterrupted since Day 1. At the moment a few cumulus clouds are bopping around up above, but they are only punctuation in the vast sheet of blue. My piss remains insistently dark orange despite me quaffing down liters upon liters of liquids daily. It's hot outside and worse inside. Who needs to buy bed linen at a hostel when it's too hot to even use it? Regulation sleeping gear at the moment: underwear, period, no sheets nor blankets, and I would gladly adopt Marilyn's "Chanel 5" approach if it was up to me. Museums are the worst, with their heavy Teutonic architecture, walls half a meter thick, not a window open anywhere, just sweltering halls and chambers full of tagged, numbered, indexed and archived pot shards in glass cases. Blah. Oy maybe I'm just spoiled by Louisiana...

Well, well. Yesterday I stumbled into the Turkish quarter (sixteenth? hundredth?) of Berlin, today it turns out that Preußenpark is in fact Chinapark. At the moment about half the Asian population of Berlin appears to be camped here, some with tents and all. Perhaps it's just some local "go go Zhongguo" day, but there are no stands or stalls nearby. A shame, I could've dug a nice big bowl of ramen. As people of tropical climes have long known, hot soup is excellent on a hot day, just add the necessary amounts of chili powder and let your internal air-conditioning system kick into overdrive.

I wonder what that tree is called? It's pretty, billions of small thin leaves, collectively weighing so much that the branches are dragged down, producing an oddly flumpy look. Factor in the way the lower leaves are butchered by humans to keep the lower part level and prevent it from reaching the ground, and the overall impression is like a woman in a huge antique dress, standing one foot while the campanulate garment billows around her.

 Editor's note: I later discovered the tree was a willow, a species which does not grow in Finland.

Should I stay or should I go? Tough, tough. There's some kind of mini-rave at Suicide Club, where I could hang out from 00-06 and then hop aboard the train, but six hours of house... yipe. Or, if I get a bed for the night, I could sleep, chill out during the day tomorrow and then go to the Real Thing at E-Werk at night. Decisions, decisions... had I left early today I'd be going to Praha's Radost FX - such a weird thought! - but no. It's odd, a city of over 5 million people, one of Europe's biggest, and yet I'm starting to get a bit bored. Tomorrow will be OK, but I wouldn't want to stay here for longer. And it's not that there's anything wrong with Berlin, it's a clean and, in its own industrial way, beautiful place... but it's not a particularly touristy one, prices remain high (albeit less than København) and poor souls like me who can't speak German run into communication problems too often. The bigger the country, the more insular it is, and splat here - surrounded by former East Germany, too - who needs to speak English anyway? Oh well, too bad for little old me. Dealing with Czech will prove interesting.

One item keeps popping up in the oddest places: ultraviolet (UV) lights. OK, maybe they have a special little place in my heart due to the several odd adventures I had this summer looking for them (too long a story to be told here, I'm afraid) but nevertheless, already I've seen them at...
The day's budget
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