An art shop, a flea market, both within five minutes walk, a Kaiser food supermarket next door, the tram at the corner, two different U-Bahn underground stations within ten minutes walk or one tram ride, and cafes and restaurants galore, this Milchhof is definitely a des res. The front door lock is a problem though. During the night there was a big crashing sound. It might have been the wind that was so fierce that it picked up chairs and a wooden bar counter in the side yard smashing them down into a heap. Then again it could have been someone trying to get in, or out, because the next day the front door could not be opened. I was standing there facing up to this just as my friend of a friend in London; Tom was arriving on his bicycle. At that moment, as it seems to happen here, a solution appeared in the large masterful German form of the sculptor Mark. Just back from his month away, about to form a band in his ground floor studio he quickly took charge. I was to use the basement entrance, where Marcus, another sculptor, had a studio, down with the central heating plant. So that solved, we went to a café and talked about being in Berlin in English.
