So it has finally come to an end. In a short time I will be departing for the airport and beyond.

Today I met my fifth (in ten days, not bad!) and final CouchSurfing friend for breakfast and a walk to the ‘John Lennon wall’ – a spot for ‘peace and love’ graffiti. It was a really nice way to end, we had some interesting conversation on the differences between Russia, Czech and England and also talked literature, aspirations and more.

I returned to the coffee shop my host brought me last night. It’s an awesome place which offers such a great variety of choice, so close to the high street yet completely tourist-free. As it’s my last day, I allowed for some over-indulgence (as if I ever stop myself).

An observation from yesterday; “I wonder how I would deal with such immobility. The old woman travels at a snailspace through the park, handbag on one arm, walking stick the other. She eventually makes it to a bench, though in no hurry to sit down. Many fear old age as a curse upon our bodies. I wonder what she thinks. She lowers her walking stick onto the bench and navigates her bag for something. Every task undertaken with a deal of care, almost in slow motion. Finally she is seated, and attempts to cross her leg over the other. With this she is unsuccessful, so she resigns to her current position, constantly fidgeting with her handbag and her coat. She notices me observing and in turn takes to observing me. I return to my book.”

I’ve decided to start appreciating the smaller, slower things in life. To write my observations and facilitate my own understanding and growth.

Like the way people here notice you; making eye contact though not with a smile. London is more hostile, but other places in the UK surprise you with friendliness. How different the experience might be for a potentially intimidating man to an attractive woman. I find it intimidating that people could find me intimidating.

My thoughts are endless and I am restless. I ask for the bill. Time to wander one last time before I find my way out of here.

My last night on this trip has already come. No regrets, I think I’ve definitely achieved what I came out here for – and got a whole lot more than I bargained for. Every person I met has been amazing to me, and each host has given me so much for nothing. Moreover, not one of these people did I know before I left the UK, and few were I even in contact with. This entire trip was arranged within the week of me leaving.

Today I left my first Prague host after he once again offered me breakfast. He also apologised for being busy, as if it was his responsibility to keep me permanently entertained. Admittedly, after the first day things slumped a little, but that was only because the first day was so great. His parting advice directed me to a fancy coffee shop where I spent the morning reflecting back some of the many more personal things I’ve thought about throughout this trip.

Later in the afternoon I met my second host who lives right in the centre of town. He’s a very cool dude and we have a lot of interests in common. With him I visited the old fortress which overlooks the city from a different angle to the castle. This was wonderful, such a beautiful, tranquil place with no tourists. I sat in an archway and watched the sun set over the river – it was perfect.

We then ventured to the other side of town to watch a fountain display, which I found incredibly odd. It was also quite expensive, to watch water dancing with lights, with occasional projections of a film which made very little sense. The most interesting part was probably the fight between some people in the queue and the lack of any order. The fountain is at the back of a mini amusement park which was practically empty, making it quite creepy and reminding me of a zombie film.

Flying back tomorrow evening, still a few things to see before I go. Sad times!

I asked a waiter for directions and was again reminded of the great hospitality of some cultures. Hatem, from Tunisia, happily expanded my map and gave me turn-by-turn directions to my destination. “You’re Iraqi? So you speak Arabic then?” I replied with my usual Arabic phrases for ‘a little’ before passing on my greetings. “If you need anything I am here,” he offered, causing my heart to glow a little as I wandered off.

I found my way across the river to meet another CouchSurfer for a drink. We walked up the steep hill, drinks in hand, until eventually we had a fabulous view of Prague. From here we continued on to the Castle, where the President of Czech Republic apparently resides. My Slovenian acquaintance, meanwhile, told me about an old Czech ‘pagan tradition’ called Velikonoce which is described here; “The official custom is that boys weave the pomlazky from birch or willow branches but now they are bought at shops for the most part. On Easter Monday, boys and men go around to local girls and women and whip/beat/spank them until they give them decorated eggs…” – Basically, men abuse women for eggs or alcohol in the more rural areas of Czech – lovely.

After he departed I explored the castle and then went down to the Franz Kafka museum, which excited me terribly as a fan of his works. I picked out this quote from the museum which I particularly liked: “The war has led us into a labyrinth of distorting mirrors. We stumble from one fictitious vision to another, bewildered victims of false prophets and charlatans who, with their cheap recipes for happiness, merely cover our eyes and ears, so that, because of the mirrors, we fall from one dungeon into another, like through open trapdoors.” With the eerie music and dark corridors, I wondered why Museums are often made to be such oddly frightening places, reminding me of a feeling that has lingered since childhood towards museums and dungeons etc.

Another observation from the day was how vividly distressing some homeless people are in asking for money; on their knees and elbows with their hands cupped, rigid and painful. I remind myself that this is one symptom of deep-rooted problems in our world today, and certainly not unique to this land. Later I pondered on the post-communist hatred for communism, contrasting it in my head with a lack of similar feeling towards colonialism in so-called post-colonial African countries (on the contrary, many fiend for their taste of it).

An interesting quote from Kafka to conclude with; “The Messiah will only arrive when we no longer need him.”

Like the moment yesterday with the (crazy) old woman who came over with a scowl, manhandling my host. I shot her a look of bemusement, completely normal for me, only to leave some fellow Czechs in fits of laugher. “Nice one! Haha.” I didn’t even know what I’d done..

Or the many incidents where a language barrier created a new term of hilarity, or the slightly less amusing times when my ‘British’ sarcasm wasn’t understood as such. I write this all with a smile on my face, for it’s amazing how stepping out of one’s comfort zone for a brief time can pack in so many unique and unforgettable incidents.

I also reflected yesterday on travelling, near or far: ‘ If travelling teaches us so much, why do we ever stop? I guess at some point we’d stop learning? At some point we have to stop and implement what we’ve learnt.’

Today, after a (very) late night, I eventually rolled out into the cold spring Prague. Nearby there is a beautiful Church and beyond that the not so beautiful TV tower – Prague’s highest building. The tower is quite unique in that a Czech artist contributed ‘babies’ crawling up and down the tower. It also gives a fantastic view of the entire city.

I then meandered through the streets and parks, speculating on the wonderful variants in architecture, design and completely apolitical (compared to Berlin) graffiti. As my host pointed out, unlike Berlin, Prague boasts some nice relief (hills for you common people) which makes it quite different. Living so close to the centre, I found myself in town before long.

“I’ve got my coffee in hand,” a woman says as she walks past with her phone in one hand, and, indeed, her coffee in the other. I laugh to myself as I observe tourists and passers by. After making it to the river the cold got the best of me. Two full days left here, I’ll make it back to see the rest.

The contrast between staying with this host, in his room, to the previous, in their flat, is as stark as the differences between these countries themselves. I celebrate the difference

This is my first time actually staying with someone from CouchSurfing, though definitely a long time coming. “You’re so lucky, you couldn’t find a better person to stay with in Prague,” said one of his friends later. I’m pretty sure they’re right. My first impression from his profile was that he was quite the extroverted character, and he is. What I didn’t realise was how much I’d be able to learn from a person with a permanent smile and the ability to engage with pretty much anyone.

Within minutes of meeting we were off for dinner with his friends (great food!) followed by night of endless activity – like above photo of this old woman who insisted on taking the stage at this punk performance.

I was constantly writing my observations as I watched him find a way to spark animated exchanges with the nearest soul. I vowed never again to travel to a place and not, at the very least, meet local people – the difference is phenomenal.

Unlike my previous host, this one won’t be reading this. “You’re still writing your blog? Are you writing a book or something?” True say, time to venture out into the cold, a city is awaiting my eyes!

My last day in Berlin has already come, just when I was getting used to it! I had a relaxed day, hanging out with my host until the next time we cross paths. We went to Humboldthain which is essentially a park with a big hill. What makes it interesting is the knowledge that the entire place is  built on rubble from the war. The hill is actually a large air-raid bunker, on top of which there are platforms that were used for anti-aircraft weapons, one of three Hitler had constructed to defend Berlin. Now, families and kids hang out up there as a great spot to admire the city, whilst rockclimbers scale the sheer outside wall of the bunker.

More conversation, reflection and reading. With the clock ticking down, we discussed everything from the effectiveness of party politics, the horrors of war and evil video games to technology, love and all things left of abstract!

This evening I was shown the bunker for this building, which was really quite amazing. You go down there and it’s like a normal cellar (perhaps reinforced), but after a few minutes the lights automatically switch off. There’s an incredible erieeness in the air as ‘glow in the dark’ (I didn’t know it existed back then!) paint dully illuminates the walls, outlining black arrows for orderly movement. In one room there is text, in old German type, which says ‘Stay calm’ and ‘Listen to the police’. Whilst wandering around in the cold dark, we discussed the terrible feelings that people would have experienced down there, listening to the sound of bombs screeching down to wreak havoc on the world above.

Berlin has been a humbling experience, aided by reflecting on its advancements in thought and outlook whilst understanding better the history that lies beneath our feet. One conversation which kept occurring was the question of whether these people have truly learnt from the experiences that happened here. Do we learn from our pasts, or is it as the quote goes; “History repeats itself and blood is always spilled.”

One last person to meet in the morning before I board a train to Prague. I can safely say I’ll be sad to leave.

It’s funny when you get used to meeting people you don’t know. Those minutes where every lingering face is potentially theirs. The first time you hear their voice is usually when you call asking where they’re standing, only to find they’re within meters of you. Yesterday I met up with someone from CouchSurfing for a coffee. I guess the only real difference to meeting someone off the street is that you’ve essentially reserved some of their time, perhaps scanning their profile for potential discrepancies (such as the person who expressly said they don’t denounce Israel, or the guy obsessed with sex). Otherwise, the formalities are quickly dropped.

We ended up talking for a few hours in a cool artsy place near the market (everywhere in Berlin is artsy). And it is these conversations, exchanges and realisations which will define my trip. I’m not sure I’ve ever so easily discussed my insecurities and fears; all with the knowledge that I have nothing to lose and so much to gain.

The rest of the day followed in a similar vein, ultimately helping me to realise why I embarked on this random adventure at all: to learn more about myself. We met with the friends I made the previous day and, upon returning home, continued conversing into the night. Sharing ones thoughts and ideas openly, to find a space to discuss them and to learn: this will epitomise my trip to Berlin.

Now to buy some souvenirs to satisfy the people back home!

This city makes me question (even more) the excesses we’ve come to accept in London life. There are no barriers to the train stations here. Graffiti is pretty much ignored if not accepted as part of the cityscape. Even the police, despite being weaponised, appear quite feeble*. It will feel odd to go back to the garishly clean(ed) walls that our cities bear with such pride, as if concrete grey wasn’t meant to be a canvas for colour.
* I usually find myself thinking this about non-UK police, I think it’s just because I haven’t had any real interactions with them. No doubt they’re probably as brutal as each other..

Today started off pretty slow, with a sniffly nose and a biting wind, I didn’t see the day improving as I trudged through the ‘Topographie de Terror’, the remainder of the Berlin wall and the Jewish Museum. In all honestly, I found them a little boring. I was pertubed at how the Jewish Museum has countless Sennheiser DJ headphones (~£130 each) attached to ineffective exhibition displays, some of which have no obvious output of audio. They clearly had money left over..

In the evening I met a new friend, courtsey of the same awesome person in the UK who put me in touch with my host. I think I need to get someone to do that for me back home because I’ve never met so many like & open-minded people so easily before. It almost feels like Berlin has a prerequisite for progressiveness. Great conversation with lovely people will always make you feel at home.

Looking forward to meeting a CS person tomorrow, goodnight world.

This morning I took a trip with my host and friends to a remote village some two hours from Berlin. They’re part of a group which aims to help asylum seekers and refugees in Berlins surrounding areas. One of their projects is teaching German to the residents of a refugee centre which is a temporary home for up to fifty.

Happening upon this village made me feel like I actually was in a different country, much like venturing into one of the many exclusively white villages in the UK. Coupled with its remoteness, that makes it a very strange place to be home to a centre which hosts an incredibly diverse set of people. The number of languages being spoken in one room was phenomenal; Pashtu, Arabic, Farsi, Dutch, German, English, Russian, Vietnamese and more.

I worked through my first ever German lesson with the other fifteen or so attendees, enjoying the humerous, almost surreal, nature of a group attempting to learn a common language with no common language between them.

Looking for water, I entered the bare kitchen and asked one of the women present where to find a glass. This led to an exchange which started as a confused dialogue between my English and their broken German, so I attempted a different route: Arabic. As soon as the woman heared a word she shoved a half-opened tin of tomatoes and a knife in my hand and said “Iftah hatha”. I dutifully obeyed whilst water was fetched for me. Success. Moral of the story? I need to learn Arabic (and then Spanish and Urdu).

There’s more, but I’m tired. This place is cool yet steeped in history, making everything just a bit more real. Like the glass window in the ground which shows into a white room of empty bookshelves: symbolising the Nazi book-burning that took place there.

On the plus side, I got a picture with Marx and Engels.

Today has been interesting. It was much like any first day in a new city – lot’s of pretty clueless exploration. But let’s trace back a bit. Here are my very initial thoughts penned on the underground (S-Bahn) yesterday:

“First impressions are important, even when it comes to cities. So what of Berlin? Nothing negative, yet. The train system seems relatively straightforward. I feel like I could fit in, but I’m pretty sure I don’t.

A young Arabic speaking guy sits next to me to avoid sitting near his family. A Bengali-looking man to my left. Just like any city, it’s cosmpolitan enough for me not to look completely out of place. I wish I spoke Arabic, at least i’d be able to engage with those who look most like me…”

Well, after a full day in Berlin I’d say that impression is pretty close to the reality. If I don’t open my mouth, I’m assumed to be German-speaking.

Exploring a new city usually involves battling off tourists (en mass) whilst trying not to be pawned off as one of the drones. Today I did a pretty big circuit of the ‘standard’ sights and museums (from afar). Berlin has some fantastic architecture, and whilst it isn’t sprawling, things are nicely spread out.

Summarising the day in few words, I’d say ‘Stylised artistic dissonance.’ Berlin seems to have some pretty openly radical elements so I can see why people said I’d like it, but at the same time I’m reminded of ‘occupy’: more curiosity than sympathy, all with their cameras ready.

“You want Hasish? No thanks “Cocaine?” No “Majuana?” No, Nada, Khalas!

There are lots of Spanish speakers here, I wasn’t just switching to the nearest non-English term!

Will see what tomorrow has in store, I might be venturing out of Berlin to a refugee centre. What night can end without a conversation to save the world?