Thursday, 13 October 2016
In Germany we say: "With a tear in the buttonhole". You say "With a tear in the eye" - ours might come from the parsimony of 1 tear in the buttonhole of a suit - a more manly version of showing feelings :-)
This morning a Berlin radio moderator announced the winner of a competition - prize: a voyage to Cuba with the whole team - task: the chef has to come to work stark naked. (No place for a buttonhole or a tear). Winner: a doctor who will come nude to the surgery - and work that way - all day long.
That doctor volunteered - argument: "As a dermatologist my patients have to undress in front of me too - so it's only fair."
I hope that the few doctors I have will be able to pay their travels with the money they earn from us private patients (One handshake: 150 Euros, in combination with a smile: 250 Euros).
Why the tear in my buttonhole (or on the Gaura on my balcony - took a photgraph yesterday - it is still raining - but isn't it lovely?)
Well - at the moment I have lots of work to do. That's why I'll change the style of my posts - at least for a while - to shorter impressions.
As the sign on German phone boxes in the Sixties urged:
"Make it brief!" (Haha - I :-) - anybody knocking at the glass door?)
Wednesday, 12 October 2016
Fire on the roof of the Europa Center in Berlin yesterday - thank God nobody of the 1500 people who work there was hurt.
The building is 103 meters high and was built between 1963 - 1965. As a pupil visiting Berlin with my classmates we all thought it the highest fashionable store we'd ever seen.
Yesterday I came from the Museum für Fotografie, where they show an excellent exhibition by Bernard Larsson: "Leaving is Entering" - with photos from 1961 - 1968. Then I saw the smoke and grabbed my smartphone (NO, not the Galaxy Note 7 :-) and took some pictures.
What people bemoan most: the huge Mercedes-Star on the "Icon of City West" doesn't turn around anymore (if you try hard you might see it middle-left) - it is ten meter high and turns around 1,9 times in a minute, never stopped since 1965, when the Center was built.
PS: But today all is fine: it turns again.
Saturday, 1 October 2016
L' été c'est fini ...
... and I feel thankful for such a lovely, lovely solitary summer!
Here a part from George Herbert's poem 'The Flower'
...And now in age I bud again,
After so many deaths I live and write;
I once more smell the dew and rain,
And relish versing: O my only light,
It cannot be
That I am he
On whom thy tempests fell all right.
Monday, 26 September 2016
No, I don't want to bore you.
So these photos will be the last ones from my visit to London I'll show you, promised.
They are more traditional, because Rachel complained that the others "could be everywhere"-
These ones NOT:
Ha, you might think: now I've got you! These could be from Paris!
Maybe they could - but they are from Battersea Park.
And can you believe that the father of my friend Trish accompanied Mr.Churchill to the Wannsee-Konferenz?
And that I saw a letter to her father, written by him:
PS: "And what do you think of Britta's Dream Aga, Sweetie?"
... and VERY British
And this I found - I swear - in London - Street Art you could find anywhere?
Anyway: I will return. Again. And again.
(Promise to myself)
Monday, 19 September 2016
I visited museums for old and modern Art
e.g. Tate Britain
and Tate Modern
revelled in Street Art
and felt refreshed by Nature
saw Things battling hard to survive
or having lost the fight against time already
dreaming seclusively of times bygone
while others, overhauled, look somehow like fakes:
As it is Monday evening (but I promised to write, so discipline wins) I was a bit in a hurry, sorry - in a few days I will show you the last (condensed) part of my impressions of lovely London.
Saturday, 17 September 2016
while I want to tell you about my stay in London, I feel like her, above - trying to play this:
yes: all those titles in the shop "The Duke of Uke" are adapted for ukulele - I ask you: can you imagine AC/DC on ukulele???
My friends could, evidently...
(While they plunked they still had enough power to withhold me from entering the pub of the legendary Kray-Twins in East End - on the other side of the Duke - from where they schemed their criminal activities in London - the twins, I mean).
They didn't know that I have a special guardian angel - you can find him in Tate Britain (where my journey started, after meeting my wonderful friend Trish.
When I had enough from ukulele chirping, I went to get some real music: the Saatchi Gallery exhibited the Rolling Stones (and kindly gave me a special solo (!!) concert of Mick - wearing the offered 3-D-specs - gosh! was I happy that nobody else saw me with them - only Mick - looking quite wintery but vivid, and very tiny ("Hi, Mick - love your latest! - but I also love my High Heels!)
You say that my impressions of "London - Part I" seem a bit hazy?
That has nothing to do with the huge Craft Beer Festival in The Oval (Space) (which was a bit difficult to find - because there is another "Oval" near Vauxhall station - but I just followed those guys whose body-type seemed to indicate that they do love beer - real ale..).
Now, sweety, I'll give you a short rest.
After the weekend we'll meet again in wonderful, wonderful London. "Nice to meet you, hope you guess my name... uh, uh..."
In case you should have forgotten - due to my long absence from blog-land - it's:
Sunday, 4 September 2016
"Not commenting makes me feel guilt-stricken and nervy. I am prone to that." - this I found on Mise's blog.
Yes! Yes! Yes! - or: Same! Same! Same! (Dropped the "H" nonchalantly after meeting some real Londoners).
Because my guilty secret is:
I am back from LONDON - and VIENNA - and have neither written nor read posts for almost 2 weeks after coming home.
Though actually I had such a sensational heading: "SUNBURN in LONDON!" (And never in my life I had a sunburn before - but at the Craft Beer Festival in The Oval Space it (almost) happened).
Outside of course - above you see the inside - at the beginning - later you couldn't put a foot into it -- too many people, too much beer on the floor. But: fun.
I will tell you of my adventures soon.
But before that I have to negotiate a contract with London's tourist advertisement:
at last (thanks, Google, tracing every step of mine!) they noticed that every time I come to England -
the weather is exceptionally HOT.
They want to book me now.