A to Nowhere

Returning from their well documented stay in Berlin U2 singer & secular pope, Bono, re-wrote one of their famous hits. "Where the streets have hexasyllabic names" was perhaps surprisingly not a hit, despite the band's reputation at the time for being credible. And real.

How times have changed for U2, but not for the U2 nor the streets and boulevards under which it tirelessly trundles. For they remain as much of a mouthful as Peter Piper Picking Peppers with Dirk Diggler. Still, as long as you've got an A-Z it's not much of a problem, is it?

Berlin has no A-Z. I will retype that, as it is inconceivably unbelievable. Berlin has no A-Z. It has maps. The kind you see in Carry On films - our driver Syd James lost on the way to the seaside, whilst co-pilot Bernard Bresslaw fights to unfold a behemoth Royal Ordinance Survey blocking the windscreen. Crash! How we laugh. Fucking ridiculous maps. Thank god for the neat, practical A-Z. Genius.

Fucking ridiculous maps can be purchased in all good bookshops. There are also city-wide maps at just about every bus stop - brilliant for the lost cyclist with a microscope.

So moving

I am a consumer with green fingers. When I arrived at the end of December I seeded my stay with the miserly 15kg Ryanair baggage allowance. I fed this with 20kg of various "stuff" I sent in advance via Parcels2Go and watered with a few early purchases.

Over the months it grew, and grew and grew until it finally flowered in the middle of summer with the purchase of a iron framed bed. And another bud has appeared, which looks like it will flower a sofa.

Before long, you'll probably require the assistance of a van to move your furniture and belongings around. Certainly the cheap white goods and furnishings come at the cost of having to pick them up yourself (zum abholen). Expensive deal? Not necessarily.

Robben & Wientjes vans are as common a sight on Berlin's roads as the cream Mercedes taxis. And a lot cheaper. Prices start from 2.50 euro per hour for a truck that'll easily take a whole bedroom in its capacious behind. There's usually no need to book, unless there's a public holiday coming up. However, you will need the following to complete your booking:

• 100 euro cash deposit
• Valid driving licence
• Your Anmeldebestätigung (certificate of official registration in Berlin)

Additional insurance is available at 8 euros per hire, and you'll be asked to sign a small form which, in somewhat confusing legalised German, states that you'll have someone help you reverse and you'll inform them of any accident or incident straight away. Happy lifting'n'shifting!

Room The Third

After an miserable month sharing with someone unwilling to share anything but her disapproval, I decided this was the one for me: a flat of my own. Yes, it was a lot more than I'd expected to pay, but it was absolutely worth it.

The area was not far from the first place (Neukölln) although a little further north in what most widely know as Reuterkiez. I later found out when looking for something more permanent that it's one of the most sought after neighbourhood in Berlin, with its clutch of obscure bars and lower than average prices.

What's "help" in German?

No, the answer isn't "helfen" - that won't get you a stretcher or a fireman. The answer is unhelpfully two numbers: 110 (police) and 112 (ambulance & fire services). Post-it. Fridge magnet. And you're safe. 

It was only upon slicing into my finger with a kitchen knife that it suddenly struck me I hadn't a bloody clue what Germany's 999 was. For someone that's pretty savvy with a blade I have to blame this on my romantic interest who'd provoked a blush of embarrassment whilst I was slicing an onion. Blood is so dramatic, but it this case it was just jazz hands and a bit of dancing, no gory Greek tragedy. Still, if I'd gone past the nail bed and hit bone it would have been a different story. A story I hope I won't be recounting here as I've since decided to eat out instead of cooking at home. It's much safer and feeds blog and belly!   

Commitment Costs

Growing up in the aggressive prime of 80s capitalist Britain, the commandments "competition is good for the consumer" and "the consumer is king" rang out from tv screens and radios like a daily call to prayer. It was as monolithic and dogmatic as anything in Orwell's 1984. Over 20 years later, it has left a behind a rail system that's a snake-pit of complexity and spiraling costs and a telecoms sector that just gets cheaper and cheaper. You win some, you loose some.

In Germany, one look at the contract phones from the big boys has you jabbing the page in disbelief at how miserly they're prepared to reward your loyalty. By UK terms, the contacts are prehistorically expensive and low-value, giving very little in the way of "free" any network minutes and only double digit SMS allowances.

My top tip is to bring a cheap unlocked phone with you (all the PAYG ones from Carphonewarehouse are unlocked as standard) or get your current handset doctored (a friend's cost 8 euro to unlock at a place on Karl Marx Str). Then head to your local Media Markt or Saturn to get a pre-pay SIM. There's a wide choice from about 9 euro, including credit to start you off. Check what they're offering and be sure to pick one that's going to be easy to top up.

Not waiting but driving

Picture it. We're walking through the city on a fine, sunny day and approach a road we need to cross to carry on our way. From the curb's edge we can see that even at the distant horizon there is no vehicular activity to break the profound silence or discord the cadences of singing birds. Yet about us, where this short vertical cuts the unknowably long horizontal, stand automatons. Motionless. As though prevented from advancing by a roaring ghostly grand prix unseen by us. They wait. Waiting. No driving. Waiting.

On average every German spends 417 days each year standing at pedestrian crossings they could safely cross themselves without the brainless direction of green light emitting diodes (or similar). Yet, away from official crossings they are happy to display ocular-led decision making skills as competent as those of any urban adult population. Weird.

Win don't bin

A normal, average human being living in Berlin gets through bottles of beer like a parrot gets through sunflower seeds. Even with a swimming pool sized kitchen, you'll soon be wading through bottles like a moorhen with the misfortune to be born by the Manchester ship canal.

As recycling replaces religion, you'd think a Sunday trip to the bottle bank would be the right move. But how's this for a proposition: stretching this eclesiastical metaphor further, instead of having to chip in to the offertory plate, how about getting cash back on your observance?

You see almost every bottle has a deposit on it. So, if you don't bin it, you can win it. Cents make sense with two carrier bags of glass and cashing in is as simple as going to the supermarket. My first trip liberated almost 5 euros. Guess where that went? Yep. Up the wall.

So take your empties with you when you shop and head for the drinks' aisles. Nearby, if you're unlucky you'll meet a wizened dwarf with the manners of a rusty can-opener who'll snatch your bags from you, make sounds which may or may not be words then disappear before returning with a scrap of paper bearing biroed runes. You can't read this, but checkout ladies can. She'll convert it to coins or knock the total off your shopping bill. But if you're lucky you'll find a new-fangled machine into which you feed your bottles. When you've fed it everything, you hit a button to print a voucher redeemable at the check out.

Note: most supermarkets only take back bottles from brands they sell.

Yellow? Give me brown

More than friends and family, the thing I miss most about the UK is a nice pint of bitter. Everything I'd ever been served in a German bar has either been blond or black, when what I really want is a strong brunette to slip down my throat.

The English shop in Neukolln imports the likes of Old Speckled Hen and Hobgoblin, but at what cost! So I decided to get beer-curious in my best stocked local supermarket. Scanning labels for anything that contained 'Malz' (malt) I stocked up on an assortment of beers in thick brown bottles, the like of which I'd never seen in bars. I walked home heavy with anticipation.

Back in the kitchen I popped my first bottle expecting lager-flavoured (sic) disappointment. As I poured my heart almost burst with joy as my glass-half-empty skepticism was displaced by a distinctively amber-brown bevvy. I sipped. Eureka! I can die here a happy, bitter man.

Brews from left: Altenmünster, Berliner Bürgerbrau Heller Bock, Duckstein

Liquid Plastic

You will frequently find your credit card muted by Germany's unwillingness to speak the language of buy-now-pay-later. If plastic is accepted at all, then it will only be in the form of an EC/Maestro card. It's a chip'n'pin system, exactly the same as the UK's Visa Delta or Switch, but frequently you're still asked for your signature (how retro!).

However you're only able to buy if you have sufficient funds in your account to pay for your trolley of shopping in full. Not enough cash? No dice. Put it back and scrape your dignity off the shop floor.

Note: A UK bank card with the Maestro logo on does not work with the German Maestro system. Baffling I know. And equally embarrassing if you have to jack your shop for lack of hard cash.

Black is the new bad

Immigrants of any background are vulnerable to both illegal exploitation, and ignorance of their new country's laws. From public transport to taxation, there are myriad ways to get caught with your pants down by Big Brother, creeping up behind you with a hard, dry truncheon. Avoiding the bugger is a game many feel forced into (for lack of money) or actively enjoy playing (an "up yours!" to bourgeois authority).

Schwarz is the adjective that describes illegal shenanigans of many shades. From riding 'schwarz' on the U Bahn, to not registering, to working 'schwarzarbeit' (cash in hand, no tax, no health insurance). In 2006 it was estimated that up half of Berlin's construction workers were not playing by the book, so is it any wonder the city's coffers are light.

Most people weigh up the the chance of getting caught against the consequences before deciding to take a risk. When you're foreign the problem is an understandable ignorance of all the possible consequences coupled with a lack of reliable advice. Ex-pat forum toytown.com is a great place to pose those 'what would happen if...' questions. Even then, a little knowledge from the collective can be a dangerous thing. In the end, everyone plays at their own risk.

Kiss kiss bank bank

Greedy boggy men of the nascent post-capitalist society, loath or really loath them, banks are generally a necessary evil, even if you're living the life schwarz. In Germany if you want to bank, then you'll have to put your hands in your pockets - they all charge you for the pleasure (with very limited exceptions). 

I had lots of misgivings about opening an account. I was without a fixed address, I hadn't registered with the authorities, and I was unsure what proof they would need that I was solvent. Little did I know all I needed was my passport and an address where I could safely have my card sent (it only takes about 10 days).

Sparkasse welcomed me with a smile and fixed me up with an account in 20 minutes. I had an internet banking account into which I could instantly transfer money in (and out), an EC card in the post, and a branch where I could make withdrawals whilst I was waiting for the plastic. This for 2 euro per month automatically deduct from your account.

I sorted my account out in German, but I hear that Sparkasse are very happy to pair you up with an English speaker if you need it. Central branches are your best bet I expect (Hackescher Markt, Friedrichstrasse...)

Ich bin ein Berliner

When you move to or around Germany you are required to register your address with Big Brother. In Berlin you're given 4 weeks to wave the official hello at the beauraucrats. Not everyone abides by the rules of course, but should you require proof of where you live for a contract etc., this is unfailingly want they'll want to see. And as far as Germany's compulsory health insurance goes, it also marks your card as officially resident here - if you intend to live the 'schwarz' life you need to know the rules before ignoring them.

Registration has all excitement of pairing socks, but at least you can do that from home. Set aside a morning to visit a Bürgeramt which administers the area in which you live. Here's a link to help you find yours. Download this form, fill out as much as you can and take it with you along with your passport and the details of your landlord.

When I turned up I showed my form at reception and they bossily pointed out the bits I'd missed as well as giving me 2 other forms I needed to complete in order to have the registration processed. DO NOT declare a Christian religion unless you want to pay an extra 10% tax. 

My trip began in the scrum of people waiting for the office to open. In darkness anyone would have thought it was Berlin's hottest new club night. It's actually a cross between a meat counter and waiting to see the headmaster: you take a ticket and wait to be called into a erry office.

Despite my early arrival I was 37th in line and even well oiled bureaucratic wheels turn slowly. It was 1 1/2 hours before I eventually reached my Kafkaesque destination. Expect no pleasantries, just a 5 minute concerto of keyboard clatter before your Anmeldebestätigung is printed off and stamped. You are now a Berlin resident and can authoritatively say 'Ich bin ein Berliner'.

Tip: If your paperwork isn't in order but you can sort it out the same day, you can return to the official without having to queue again. Just knock and enter.

Room the Second

This was an all-inclusive place I got from craigslists. 350 for the month, with 350 deposit. Looks lovely, I think you'll find. But it taught me that the most important thing in your home environment is not a large bedroom, high ceilings and wooden floor - but the person/miserable thief that you share with. I was refunded only 120 of my deposit "for leaving the radiator on". Stuffed.  

Top tip: when you move in, get the terms for the return of your deposit in writing. That 120 took almost 3 months to return to my wallet, sobbing at the loss of its 230 friends. 

Ting Tings

Even before you hit the roads and pavements of Berlin with your two wheels, you ought to ensure your steel (stolen?) steed is "fahrbereit", ie legally roadworthy. For this you need the following:

• a bell
• lights front and rear powered by a dynamo

...otherwise you're in breach of traffic laws. I don't think any copper is going to throw the book at you for having battery lights instead of dynamo ones, and possibly most won't even know about this legal nicety. Still, now you know.

Once you're on the roads, you have to cycle in the same direction as the traffic unless you're riding through a contra-flow thingy.

Keep to the cycle side of any split cycle/pedestrian paths, which are very common here. This is where your little ding-a-ling is absolutely invaluable: a quick ring and the errant wanderer sharply jumps out of your rightful path. They are wrong, and you are right. 

As any one who can't fly/hover/isn't carried about in a sedan chair will tell you, cycling on pavements is very common here. Technically only allowed if traffic makes it dangerous to cycle on the road, two-wheelers torpedo amongst pedestrians like sharks in a shoal. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. 

This subject is covered in a bit more detail here.

Go Buy Bike

So you want to fit in, save money on transport, keep fit and add a splash of risk to your safe Berlin life? Then you need a bike. Whether you've got money to burn, or want something for the price of a box of matches, there are 2 options if you want a set of wheels in a hurry: online ads or a trip to one of the weekend markets. 

Kijiji is certainly the busiest site for bike ads I've come across, with several new ones appearing every hour. Prices range from 25euro to silly money for daft racing bikes with emaciated frames. Less costs more. Many, you suspect, are stolen, due to the low price and brief description. It's a conscience over pocket decision only you can make. Also, there seems to be an oversupply of women's bikes. ? I'm told there's no stigma attached to transgendered bike ownership.  More likely that there's a certain caché that goes with bucking societal norms (not that anyone would admit it as that wouldn't be cool at all).   

You can also try the ex-pat sites toytown and berlin.craigslist - although ads are seldom, you can occasionally pick up a bargain from folk shipping out of the country.

The other way is to head to the flea markets for a bit of trawl'n'haggle. Clearly time consuming, unpredictable but for some, also good fun. Mauerpark in P'berg on Sunday is the surest bet (U8 Bernauer Str and follow the crowds). Cheap but sturdy-looking bike locks are in also in abundance. 

In a darkened room someone whispered a third way to me which involves applying an advanced set of recycling principals and deft pair of bolt cutters. This is illegal and under no circumstances should anyone attempt to recycle a bike with a flat tyre that has been standing in their neighbourhood for several weeks. I mean, have you seen the price of a decent pair of bolt cutters?

  

Phew!per market

Germany's respect for God's day-off can be tough on heathen Brits, most of whom can't remember or never knew a time when shops weren't open 363/365 (we only shut Xmas Day and New Year's Day now). Although there are certain times of year when these anti-commercial shackles come off, for the best part of the year you have to deal with barren Sundays. 

The exception to this is often main stations. Berlin's Friedrichstrasse H-Bahnhof is a life-saving emergency shopping spot. E City-Mart was open on New Year's Day this year, and despite being tight on floor space - if they don't sell it, you probably shouldn't be putting it in your mouth anyway. Not a rip off either (unlike Kaisers at the Hauptbahnhof). They stock plenty, plenty booze and fags are available at every till. 

MacCafe

Dear, dear Oberholz. You walk in and it's though you've stumbled into the intensive care ward of a mac store. Unplug someone and watch as their battery life drains away and the light dims in their eyes: hip euthanasia. These people cannot breath without a widget reminding them to inhale/exhale. You think I'm joking? I went in today for a cup of coffee and a slice of cake (both of which were delicious) and with no laptop I felt like a rabbi in a mosque. 

Some inconsiderate swine from Pregnancy Hill (P'berg) had brought a child, yes a CHILD in, which dared let out a few cries (it probably didn't like the colour of its new Birkenstocks). Dirty looks instantly flew around the room like bullets. Bullets etched with the words: die in pain.

If you can't swallow the cyborg-chic cliental, you'll certainly be able to swallow the great hot food (chunky soups and piping hot gratanis) and their roast is definitely a cut above. If downstairs is full of battery chickens pecking at their screen, then there's more seating in the upstairs barn. Free wi-fi (obviously).

Where: Corner of Rosenthaler Str. and Tor Str, U-Bahn Rosenthaler Platz

  

Wee Hans

We all get caught short. In Berlin, just make sure you've got a bit of loose change to jingle before you pinkle. In most department stores, smaller railway stations and some restaurant (including McDonalds) you'll cross the path of Klofrau (and occasionally Klomann). 

Like the troll beneath the bridge in the Billy Goats Gruff, she guards her post with a steely eye. Invariably positioned in front of plastic covered table, you'll be expected to pitch a few cents into her plate to pay for your relief. No one knows what happens to those who don't...no survivors have ever been found. 

The good news is that the loos are normally breath-takingly clean and fresh smelling. But don't be surprised if the old crow blusters in with a mop whilst you're mid flow. I doubt the sight of your flaccidity is something she'll be wheezing about with her cronies down the Steglizt Weights & Shot-Put Club, do you? 

Asia Markt

Need fish sauce for that authentic Thai touch? Or a 12 inch bamboo steamer for, well steaming 12 inch things? This is probably Berlin's most central asian supermarket, being just behind Alexanderplatz Bahnhof. Their selection of fresh stuff isn't extensive, but as specialist asian ingredients in supermarkets are both limited and darn expensive, it's worth dropping in for store cupboard stalwarts.  They also stock indian curry pastes and condiments, along with the usual Thai, Chinese, Vietnamese and Japanese products.  

Where: corner of Karl-Liebknecht-Str and Dircksenstr.   

Constant Kebab Craving

I don't know where to begin with my love of Berlin's döner kebabs. Donners in the UK resemble those here in the way sparkling water resembles champagne. I won't entertain the idea of putting my intestines through the miserable work of digesting a donner in Manchester or London. Whereas here, they fill me with a joy that's the closest I'll ever come to religious ecstasy. Crisp, freshly toasted Turkish flat-bread, spread with garlic sauce and filled with delicious strips of meat, red and white cabbage, lettuce, tomatoes and onions. It's the most crunchy, garlicy, comforting, spicy, generous, fresh, warm protein'n'carb fest you'll experience. And all for 1.80-3 euro. Here are some of my favourites...

Dada: the kebab meat here is actually schwama, which we think is beef. They're also served in small pitta pockets, making it a altogether different kebab experience. And there's more to this place than its kebabs. Full review here.

Where: Linienstrasse 132, opposite Tachles on Oranienburger Tor

Pergamon: it's straight opposite the main entrance to Friedrichstrasse Bahnhof, making it perfect for a 5am grease pit-stop if you're staying nearby. Straight down the line classic döner - always super fresh salad. There's a bar in the shop too, and seating at the rear.

Where: Friedrichstrasse, opposite the Bahnhof

Köftechi: On new year's eve/day I was walking home from a club when I was waved into this place by one of the staff who could obviously spot a drunken man in need of grease at 50 paces. They didn't have a regular donner, so I just asked for something tasty. What I was given blew my tiny mind: they were like mini-shish kebabs (4 I think) served in a soft baguette-style bread with salad. I'm groaning with pleasure at the memory. 10 out of 10

Where: Kottbusser Damm, U-Bahn Schönleinstrasse then head down towards Hermannplatz, on the left hand side.

Chicken Döner: Really easy to over-look this one despite being right by one of the busiest junctions on the tourist trail, near the Hackescherhöfe. They do a fairly common variation on a donner called, Dürüm Döner - which is a bit like a wrap. The one I had the other day was as thick as my upper arm, which isn't that big for an arm, but it's hugely generous for a wrap. A finger-licking feast that set my eyes rolling with delight.

Where: Top of Rosenthaler Strasse, just across from U-Bahn Hackerscherhof

The green man blues

We're all taught from moment we begin to walk unaided that crossing the road means waiting for the green man, because mummy says the cars stop and allow us to cross safely, right? You liar woman! Not here in Germany they don't. The green man means that motorists only get half-points for knocking you down, so do they really want to bother with the hassle of blood and broken teeth on their windscreen?

Yep, the green man's on but cars are still allowed to turn, and frequently do whilst you're on the crossing (albeit you've only just started making your way across the road). I'm a paranoid crosser, and find this law most unnerving. Especially at night, when I'm inevitably in a dark-coloured coat and wonder how on earth motorists can see me to make the decision whether it's safe for them (!) to turn the corner or not. So watch out!

[And when I lived in Weimar they used to switch off all the traffic lights at 9pm!! Not my idea of "fun with the lights off". ]     

Set-up costs

So how much do you think it costs to set yourself up in Berlin? Well, I have no idea either, so let's let this run and see how it adds up. Clearly some people are more frugal than others, and there are those jammy sods who always get given stuff for free or who are amazing bargain hunters. I'm neither of those two things, and although I shop around, it's generally just high street stores for ease. The more adventurous and savvy might be able to get cheaper. 

19.99      quilt from Ikea

5.98       2 x small desk lamps

12.00     frying pan

34.21     various other kitchen bits'n'bobs

10.00     SIM card inc. 10 euro credit (callmobile.de)

140.00   Temporary accommodation whilst looking for somewhere permanent (2o per night)

Total so far: 222.18

Cardiac Detest

Oh just forget it! You don't want my money, eh? You don't want to sell it to me, make "profit"? What you only take EC card and cash? What d'you mean a Visa card isn't my money? YOU CALLIN ME A LIAR?!?

Really. Save it. Just leave the bloody thing at home. It's about as much use as buttered chop-sticks in a noodle bar. For all Visa and Master Card boast that their card is accepted in 3 billion shops & restaurants across the globe, none of them are in Germany. Truefact. Not even Ikea take visa cards. How else am I expected to pay for all those things I can't afford??! Go figure. 

Ask flat out

Save on anxiety, disappointment, unexpected expense not to mention stress by asking a few leading questions upfront when you inquire about a room/flat.

• Is it WARM (all inclusive)? If it's not you're going to want to know exactly what the Nebenkosten are going to be (that's everything else minus the rent). 

• Does it have central heating (Zentralheizung)? Categorically don't go near anything that doesn't if you're renting over the winter. Unrenovated places may seem attractively cheap but it's likely that the heating is via what's called an Ofen. It looks like a ceramic wardrobe and is about as much use. Nuff said. You need to feed it coal, which could mean going down several flights of stairs and outside, to hump said coal back up the stairs, in the vain hope that within a couple of hours your room temperature might push double digits. For 20 minutes. 

• Does it have a proper over-bath shower? Many bathrooms do not. You end up squatting in the bath like a dog, shuffling about trying to soap and rinse a hard-to-reach undercarriage.

• Are there local shops, and how local is “local”? Many areas here are pretty poor for near-by conveniences. If it doesn’t pass the FBB test (fags, booze & bread), be careful. For me at least, it’s a big irritant if I can’t get basics on my doorstep.

• Obviously, good transport links are vital for a successful social life. Check these carefully.

• Does it have a living room? Many WGs forego this to keep the rent low, as in some UK student houses. Will not having somewhere other than your own room do your head in?

• What do you mean by “kein Zweck-WG”? This is frequently stated, and means something like “it’s not a ships-in-the-night kinda place”, ie they want an environment where members of the WG interact. But does that mean a chat over a beer at the kitchen table or back-rubs over the kitchen table and naked Twister every Sunday 6-9?

• Finally, if you can, check the price with a Berliner – they’ll let you know if you’re being taken for a ride. Give them the area, the room size, and if it’s Warm or Kalt. Be sure to thank them with an invitation to Twister on Sunday. 

Bärefoot Natives: at home with Berliners

I'm sure when I was growing up we always had to take our shoes off when we went round to a friend's house. That was likely because of the propensity for a child's shoe to find dog shit like a Exocet missile. Anyway, I don't remember when, but at some point we never bothered any more. It was some mystical, unspoken part of becoming an adult: the right to wear shoes around the house.

Well, guess what? Regression time! The flooring of choice for Berliners is varnished natural wood, and it doesn't do too well under constant attack from stilettos and jackboots. So, it's off with your shoes, and pray you're not wearing those socks with the hole at the heel.