Straight away we were ready to go on the Fat Tire Berlin Bike tour. Already it was raining but we were not deterred. First we had breakfast at the top of the Galleria department store with its great view looking out at Alexanderplatz, then we joined the three other cyclists with Tom the guide, and off we went. Just to trap us the skies cleared as we set off and so I didn't put on waterproof trousers or top. Big mistake. Once we were far enough away from the Fernsehturm the huge television tower where Fat Tire's office is, that it was too far to go back, it started pouring. Undaunted we pressed on and occasionally the rain even stopped for a few minutes. The rain did not put a damper on the joy of cycling around Berlin even if one might wince at the word, but a lunch break for Bratwurst and hot drinks came just in time to thaw out my hands and feet. With us on the tour was an artist from South Carolina and her doctor husband. As they turned up to go bicycling, they introduced themselves as "Joseph and Mary, we've left the Kid at home". After the tour they invited us for afternoon tea at their hotel so that they could introduce me to a Berlin artist whose sister, lives in South Carolina. They were such very warm and friendly people. She is small, sweet, fair curly-haired, blue eyed, with a lilting Southern voice and an open nature. Her paintings use her experiences such as when she worked in the Philippines with the street prostitutes. Their friend turned out to be French but has lived as an artist in Berlin for more than twenty years. It was such a pleasure, by unlikely chance, to meet up with these artists and lanky humorous Joseph. We did have a short rest and a bite to eat before going out in the evening, my friend's first day in Berlin, a full one. In fact we cut it so fine we took a taxi so that we wouldn't be late. That is extravagant but the performance written and acted by Lindsay Annis was certainly worth it. It was spectacular. My Ulysses taken from and adapted James Joyce's Ulysses. It was sharp and funny, the performance ribboned through with personal references about finding a flat in Berlin through an ad, and then another, and also references to the production. The sound effects exactly, austerely, creatively imaginative. As was the sparse choreography. It was as I remembered off Broadway used to be before it got into being boring clichéd Fringe. Now here in Berlin I felt the same intense excitement. And you know what? She's got a studio at the Milchhof. That is so great. The elation of the performance buoyed us up and we went to Gorky Park at one thirty in the morning for bowls of Borsht. No problem. Welcome to friendly-to-artists Berlin.
A friend from London arrives today. She's coming by overnight train and will arrive at 8:30 am. My plan is to take her on a bicycle tour of Berlin too, but this time with a regular city tour that Tom guides so that she gets orientated. What is the weather going to do? After I had sent her the directions how to get from the Hauptbahnhof station by the S-bahn to Alexanderplatz she texted me that her guide book said that she would be arriving at Ostbahnhof, which threw me, and I had to stop and laboriously text her, (I'm crap at texting), that she definitely was not etc. until finally the penny dropped-she had a very old guide book. My goodness why didn't she look at her ticket? Guide Book perils are something to add to the list of travelling warnings. Soon I'm either going to be fit or dead. Especially since I felt I had to do some housekeeping today, (steps back in amazement), and cleaned the floor in the anteroom which will be the guest bedroom for her. Even Tom from the office was amazed when he passed by. Now it looks quite cosy but how comfortable that inflatable bed really is, I'm not sure.
As soon as we got our bikes from the Fat Tire Bike Company it began to rain. After some dithering and then putting on both rain trousers and those clear plastic tops that all Americans seem to carry, off Sarah and I sped in a light drizzle, Tom leading the way. Our first destination was to go further into the Eastern Zone to Friedrichshain where a mile of the Wall still remains, known as the East Gallery. After that we cycled up Karl Marx Allee. Sarah is a speeder while I hang back a little and look around, even sometimes taking photographs So she set the pace with Tom asking him questions and I kept up but liked cycling at not quite such a ferocious pace. We got back to Alexanderplatz just as the light was failing, much exhilarated.
Funnily enough I woke with a sore throat. It may be all the people smoking in the restaurant. Berliners sure do smoke a lot. The last gasp before it becomes illegal. Manfred came to change my light bulb with his tall ladder and a cool white bulb. I had mentioned that the one he had put in before was a yellow tungsten one and as a colourist it was driving me mental. I was still in my navy terrycloth dressing gown and slippers, wet hair wrapped in a red towel, so I felt a bit like either a slut or a housewife. Never mind my unprofessional appearance, the light is a great improvement.
Once actually up and about I felt I needed some fresh air so decided to walk about taking photographs. Starting out in brilliant sunshine, soon it turned into driving rain, then sleet, snow and all of a sudden back to sunshine again. Talk about changeable, but I got some good shots even if some were in the pouring rain, like the one of a girl walking by the gigantic Di Suvero sculpture carrying a plaster nude figure. At one point I found another tiny Heimat shop and bought some cute postcards, one with silly little photos saying in German the admonition: ‘Avoid mentioning domestic difficulties-we all have them. Suitable topics are children, dogs, and travel-Many thanks!' now whom am I going to send that to?
Meeting up with Sarah Kent in the evening again, we went to Tom's studio so that she could see his work and then went out to dinner at the November restaurant near Kathe Köllwitz Platz, and afterwards walked up to Kakao the fabulous hot chocolate place and bar. One dark bitter 100% hot chocolate like that has probably got the serotonin content of three orgasms. We're going cycling tomorrow.
Finally, I think I'm making some progress on the paintings, but it all takes so much time that it is hard to fit everything in. Sarah Kent the art critic is in Berlin writing about UK artists who have moved here to work. Mona Hatoum is one and Susan Hiller, Tacita Dean are others. Sarah came to my studio here to look at what I'm doing and then we went to dinner. What a pleasure to be able to talk freely and be understood. Apart from a few like the quicksilver landscape architect and the jazz singer who has lived in London for a time, the isolation here is the language. It is as if one lives behind a sheet of glass prevented from being a real part. Not that they aren't nice – Berliners are so very friendly and well mannered that I am astonished how very obliging and caring everyone is. Everyone smiles and says ‘Hallo' and ‘Chuss' as we pass in the halls. Any time I need to find out or get something done they are so helpful, but it is the chats and free conversations, to really get to know them, that can't happen without my speaking German, that I miss. Sarah and I went to a wonderful laid-back place on Oderberger Strasse, which we both said reminded us of London in the late seventies. A lot of Berlin is like that as if brimming with nostalgia. All bare wood and hand decorated loos, no hassle, sweet people and what is more, delicious food. A girl at the next table was doing her studies, writing in a book.
