Part 7 - The End

Nine months ago I was on a one-way flight from Stansted to Cologne, terrified at the prospect of what lay ahead. Surviving in a foreign country, doing something I'd never even considered doing before on a professional level and having to communicate full time in a language in which I felt confident but not fluent. I didn't even have a place to live. A week ago, I made the same journey in reverse, leaving behind everything that had become so much a part of my life for what had seemed like forever.

Germany is undoubtedly a ridiculous country at times, one where shops never open on Sunday but prostitution is legal, where the system of social benefits can afford to support everyone but there are still homeless people wandering the streets and stations during the day, where everyone who wants a job is required to have official training in that area but language assistants are taken on off the back of about 12 hours of being told vaguely what we should be doing.

Ultimately though, the good outweighs the confusing. All I can say is thank you; thank you to the country that I found so easy to call my home so quickly. Thank you to Deutscher Bahn for (generally) getting me where I needed to be when I needed to be there. Thank you to Telekom for providing decent enough internet that I could stay in touch with my loved ones at home and not get too lonely out in the sticks.

Thank you to Bayern München for providing some of the most brilliant football I've ever witnessed. Thank you to German TV in general for giving me something to do at night. Thank you to Olivia Jones for making my evening viewing that much more entertaining.

And FABULOUS.

Thank you to whichever geniuses at Super RTL and Nickelodeon Austria decided the two channels should show some of the best cartoons ever made and thus allowing me to switch my brain off once in a while. Not to mention all those hours spent watching Phineas and Ferb have raised my listening skills to native speaker level - among the words that are now burned permanently into my German vocabulary are der Schnabeltier (platypus) der Drachenflieger (microlight) and so was von fällig (so busted).

Also the lyrics to this song.

But really it's the people who make the place, and my year would have been nothing without them. Thank you to the English faculty at Silverberg Gymnasium for integrating me into school life and trusting me to take care of several pupils at a time without killing them or myself. Thank you to the Wednesday night football crew for letting me come along, even though I was very much an Emile Heskey in a sea of Bastian Schweinsteigers. 

Albeit slightly more skillful.

Thank you to the pupils themselves - without you, I wouldn't have had nearly as much fun. My favourite quote from the year sums it up:

Me: which holiday do Americans celebrate on July the 4th? Maybe you've seen the film, where Will Smith fights some aliens?

Year 9 Pupil: Men In Black?

Last but by no means least, thank you to my awesome host family, without whom I would have surely lost myself in a bottle and ended up living on the street in Bedburg (probably). Thank you to Sylvia for so much food and the help negotiating the notorious German bureaucratic system, to Giuseppe for taking me to the gym and the cinema (Fast and Furious 6 being the cultural highlight of the year), to the twins Cassandra and Patricia for the McDonald's and Primark trips, and to Victoria for being someone to talk to about Star Wars and watch cartoons with. I know there will be a home for me in Bedburg if I need one.

And thank you to everyone for reading - it's not exactly world-beating but I have surpassed 1000 views.

So now life goes on. One chapter ends, and another begins. Just one more year until the world opens its doors to me. Year abroad - it's been real. Germany - this is not goodbye. It's auf wiedersehen.

Cue The Doors...

TJGreenwood.

Part 6 - What Am I Doing Here?

Yesterday, in the second week of March, I woke up to this:

Now, I appreciate that something similar is going on back home right now, and that's it's not really fair to judge a place based on its weather, but I had hoped that Bedburg would have warmed up a bit by now. Indeed, there are times when I wish I'd chosen to spend my year abroad in Nice or St. Tropez or Martinique or French Guiana or Tahiti or pretty much anywhere that isn't quite so relentlessly, achingly cold as the Rhineland can be at times. Or somewhere that's more sympathetic to my rugby-watching needs, has more choice in terms of cuisine than Turkish or Italian and doesn't force everyone to turn up to school when the world looks like the above picture. It must be said that France would fulfill all of those criteria.

Having thought it over, however, I'm fairly certain I made the right choice. And in true German fashion, I will now proceed to make an ordered list explaining why:

The Way of Life

The Germans seem to have this one figured out pretty well. Beginning at a grass roots level this can be seen in the fact that their workers don't go on strike at every conceivable opportunity, instead actually choosing to work ridiculous amounts of overtime in order to keep the world's biggest export nation producing at full speed. It pays off: some of the electricity from the Rheinenergie towers behind me that churn out power 365 days a year will ultimately find its way to Belgium, the Netherlands, France and even the UK. Further up the chain, Frau Merkel has basically ensured the country will never go bankrupt, thanks to some slightly dodgy economic scheme involving selling shares in the actual government. Yes, Germany is basically funding the whole of the EU right now, but no-one really cares or even notices.

99% of the final-year students I teach have something already set up for when they leave school: from university places to training schemes to apprenticeships in industry. Even those aged 14 or 15 have a pretty good idea of at least the area they want to go into. The whole work ethic of the county should be an example to other nations in Europe.

Elsewhere, personal health plays a far bigger role than in most countries - there are probably more PE teachers at my school than in any other subject, the local gym is in use 24 hours a day, and overweight children are allowed to miss school in order to attend weight loss courses, often for up to six weeks at a time. I couldn't see that happening in the UK - no wonder they always destroy us at football. All this despite the constant stream of salt, starch and red meat that makes up the typical German diet.

Pictured: how to stay thin, apparently.

The Culture

As all language assistants will know, there are long periods of time in the year when absolutely nothing is happening. My solution for this was to dive into German TV, which served the added purpose of perfecting my listening ability. I've seen it all: cartoons from the magnificent (Phineas and Ferb, Oggy and the Cockroaches) to the moronic (Horseland, feature-length Barbie specials), police shows where every single "criminal" was clearly an actor and soaps that make Hollyoaks look like Quentin Tarantino.

The one situation where looking like Quentin Tarantino would be a good thing.

Later in the evenings, things get rather deeper. This year's series of Dschungelcamp was genuinely touching as the last two contestants - a 19-year-old boyband member who was abused by his father throughout childhood and a 6'7" drag queen who seemed thoroughly fed up of the whole celebrity lifestyle - realised that they were each the missing element of each other's lives. They remain close friends.

Grayson Perry ending up as a parent figure to Harry Styles is about as close as I can get to a British equivalent.

In fact, reality TV in general dominates the primetime line up, but it does so in a much more tasteful manner than you might expect. Supertalent, similar to Britain's Got Talent, shamelessly invites in professionals from around the world, meaning from week one every show is a variety performance in itself, without viewers being assaulted by sob stories and atrocious singers. Deutschland sucht den Superstar is ongoing, with exactly the right vocalists making it to the live show and the Jedward equivalent being cut at precisely the point he went from entertaining to annoying.

The chap in the tasteful outfit in the middle there.

Crucially, none of these reality shows operate under the pretence that anything they show us is real, and the sooner that becomes the model for other such programmes (particularly in the USA) the better.

Add to this a solid national taste in music: I've never heard Radio 1 play the nine-minute version of November Rain by Guns 'n' Roses at 11 O'Clock on a Wednesday morning, for instance. Radio Erft has provided me with some of the most hilariously inappropriate gym music possible, from this:

to this:

to this:

Truly an eclectic mix, and fun with it.

Finally - although it only really applies to internet crawlers such as myself - the Germans are far less irritating online than the French, managing to abstain from writing extremist manifestos in the comment sections of every online newspaper article or "like if you are watching in 2013!!!" underneath Every. Single. YouTube. Video.

The Sense of Humour

The image of the Germans as a race of serious, studious types who laugh only at slapstick and bad wordplay is a contradictory and outdated one, and unsurprisingly doesn't hold up in real life. The vast majority of jokes I hear here are funny when translated into English as well, which sounds unimpressive until you consider that humour is one of the hardest things to translate due to its cultural aspects and the nuances of language involved. What's more, you can definitely mention the war*: people find it funny that Prince Harry once dressed as a Nazi and there are comedians who made a career out of impersonating Hitler. Sarcasm, puns, satire - the German sense of humour is pretty accessible to anyone who can speak the language well enough.

*Note that this is not always the case: for instance, while Angela Merkel's CDU are more conservative than, well, The Conservatives, you absolutely cannot describe them as right-wing. That term is reserved for the Neo-Nazis, which is a bit nonsensical because they're actually quite left-wing. Similarly, the rapper Bushido once tweeted "free Palestine" and was immediately branded anti-Semitic, regardless of his Arabic origins and genuine academic involvement in resolving the conflict. Oversensitive is an understatement.

The People

When it comes down to it, everything I've just mentioned can be traced back to the people. Far from the humourless, arrogant, rude stereotypes that generally go along with them, I have found the locals to be friendly, accommodating and good-natured. They don't shoot you down for having bothered to learn their language, they care about education and if you require services of them, they provide with the minimum of fuss. Really, they have a lot more in common with the British than either side would like to let on. There are dubbed episodes of Little Britain shown on weekday evenings, and I think that says it all.

Three months away from returning to God's own county (Bedfordshire), home of the English Defence League, that 11-year old boy who fathered a child and, officially, Britain's Crappest Town, Germany isn't looking too bad after all. I have therefore decided to stay here, at least until I know who wins Deutschland sucht den Superstar.

In the end, it's nice to know I'll always have another country I can think of as home.

TJGreenwood.

Part 5 - Karneval!

When the period of Epiphany rolls around in the UK, the only part of it that we can generally commit to every year is Shrove Tuesday, in which we prepare for the Lent that some of us partake in by eating far too many pancakes. In Germany, things are done slightly differently. Yes, it's Karneval time!

For those of you unfamiliar with this particular festive season in Germany, Cologne carnival is kind of a big deal. People from all over the country head to the Rhineland, totalling over a million spectators lining the streets as floats and performers walk through the city: Rio de Janeiro style, only with slightly more clothes on. The origins are truly primitive: in prehistory, Teutonic tribes engaged in pagan orgies to celebrate the passing of winter, and today little has changed really.

I had hoped to make it to Cologne for at least one day, but it was not to be. The biggest parade happened on Monday, and although school was closed for five days to allow staff and pupils to take in the celebrations, it was just too cold for me to be standing around for six hours watching things go past. I'm not being wet either - temperatures did not rise above freezing all day, and the wind chill meant it felt around -10C.

Pictured: a better man than I.

What I did instead was to join my host family and head to Kirchherten, which is apparently the scene for the second biggest parade in the area on the day. It turned out to be the right decision: three hours in the cold as opposed to the entire day, a lower risk of being crushed to death and car travel to and from the event with the promise of a warm living room at the end of it.

And so the parade began. This particular one was more modest than its big-city counterpart, but made up for it in enthusiasm. The concept is simple enough: each district of the town is allowed a certain amount of money by the council to set up a float, and is given a theme to follow. The people who walk with or ride on the float have to register in the previous year, because if there's one things the Germans love, it's being efficient ahead of time (rail network excluded). Then they all chip in for bags full of sweets, crisps, small toys and flowers that they throw at spectators who shout "Kamelle." Everyone turns up prepared with the German equivalent of a Bag For Life, and as far as I could see, everyone had filled their bag by the end of it. It's also an opportunity for people in the parade to give slightly larger presents to their friends or neighbours - at one point I saw a Pringles can and bouquet of flowers being passed carefully down, and other people stopped off with bottles of spirits for a celebratory shot with friends. Mostly of Waldgeist, which according to Wikipedia is flavoured with the herb woodruff. Not that you'd notice over the burning sensation. The effort put in is impressive, and we witnessed an army of Huns, hippies, punks, and the local film society dressed up as Charlie Chaplins.

Always a brave move going for that moustache in Germany.

Aside from community spirit, these parades serve two other purposes: advertising and satire. The first is straightforward enough: companies faced with employees allowed a day or two off work take the opportunity to enter a float bearing their logo and send those workers to run it. They get an advert seen by everyone present, the employees have fun, everyone gets a good deal.

Sparkasse bank in Kirchherten, for example, displayed a safe bearing the words "Spasskasse" (fun box). I'm still not sure if this is an example of German humour or just proof that bankers the world over don't exactly help their own image.

The satirical side of things is altogether weirder, and judging by the TV coverage I saw of the Cologne and Dusseldorf events, it takes up more than half of the big parades. Both global and national affairs are covered:

Today, it essentially consists of political cartoons rendered in 3D and blown up to huge proportions, but the tradition goes back a long way. In the Middle Ages, people attended mass dressed as animals, reading out prayers in animal noises and thereby subverting the power of religious leaders over their subjects. In the 1820s, Karneval was used as an opportunity to attack Napoleon - little has changed since then. In an interesting twist in 2012, a group of Turkish-Germans released a press package stating they wanted to form a breakaway Karneval based on Muslim values, playing up the fact that Teutonic orgies aren't for everyone.

Overall, my lasting impression of Karneval was that it served to remind me how foreign Germany can seem at times. For the entirety, people in the area were celebrating the fact that they come from the Cologne area, and I just can't imagine that happening in the UK - yes, we do well in terms of national pride, but dedication to regions like that doesn't happen, especially not in the same manner as the friendly rivalry between Cologne and Dusseldorf, for example. Maybe this is a reflection of the fact that Germany has spent too much of its existence as a divided country; forming from a group of states in just 1871 and then being split for most of the lifetime of a lot of its current citizens. Germany as a whole holds no particular meaning to a lot of people, so they resort instead to their area in search of an identity, failed by their national government for too long. As a concept, that's pretty sad. Yet things like Karneval are a reminder that nobody is too bothered. Not bad music either.

TJGreenwood.

Top 10 Albums of 2012

In keeping with last year, it seems that once again I have allowed a fair amount of the new year to roll over before getting around to writing this, and indeed almost didn't. As it happens, 2012 was an exceptionally strong year for albums, so much so that it was hard to formulate a comprehensive top 10. Honourable mentions go to Kendrick Lamar and Frank Ocean for a pair of darkly mature hip-hop debuts; Green Day, Baroness and The Weekend for some of the least excessive double and even triple albums of all time; Soulfly for making the whole Amazon basin resonate once again with their furious metal riffing; and Xavier Rudd for returning to form in the field of acoustic balladry with just a hint of didgeridoo.

Song of the year goes to Soundgarden for their perfectly-formed album track Halfway There, while video of the year is Odd Future's supremely bizarre Rella:

Onto the list:

10. Avatar - Black Waltz

From the wilds of Sweden comes yet another death metal band purveying brutal riffs, primal vocals and an image straight out of a horror film. This one is different, though - eschewing lyrics about satanism and mutilation in favour of lyrics about, well, not much really. All this on a bedrock of undeniably catchy metal tunes; "groovy" would almost be the word for it, drawing on '70s rock'n'roll more than anything else. It's the kind of music you could dance along to, rather than use as inspiration to summon demons or whatever it is metal fans do nowadays.

9. Infected Mushroom - Army of Mushrooms.

Israel is not a country generally associated with dance music, but Infected Mushroom have been carrying the flag for the Middle East for well over a decade now. Ignore the schlocky album cover, this is a seriously well-honed collection of electronic music, careering between acid house, pulsing dubstep, and even a Foo Fighters cover. Played in its entirety, the album blurs into an ocean of sound, shifting and changing like the sea itself. Seriously professional, and yet never once overproduced or pretentious.

8. Brutality Will Prevail - Scatter the Ashes.

This young metal group hails from South Wales, and their furious debut certainly lives up to their name. Tracks like Second Sight and The Path build sheer walls of sound, assaulting the listener with their power, and yet changing at a moment's notice in favour of new themes and moods. The album opens with dark acoustic twanging and ends with a doom-laden self-eulogy, the work as a whole forming an account of the Black Death outbreak of 1348. It's aggressive, hungry music that would wear itself out given too much room to breathe. The album's running time of just over half an hour means Scatter the Ashes never once becomes boring.

7. Purity Ring: Shrines.

"Beautiful" is a word often applied to music, to the extent that it no longer has much of an effect as an adjective. Shrines, however, is the very definition of the word, a luscious work of sonic art dripping with swelling synths, clicking beats and Megan James' ethereal vocals. It's simultaneously futuristic and timeless: there are plenty of references to the inaugural greats of electronic music like Kraftwerk and Gary Numan, but at the same time it sounds like something that was produced on another planet. Credit must go to programmer Corin Roddick for some of the most technical musical and electronic arrangements of recent years.

6. Django Django: Django Django. 

The Cambridge four-piece were heralded as the saviours of British guitar music, which is odd considering guitars certainly do not take centre stage on their self-titled debut release. What does, however, is lush instrumental arrangement beginning with an Ennio Morricone style introduction and drifting through tuneful, technical indie rock. The most obvious comparison would be alt-j, but where that group's 2012 work lapses into tedium, this album is genuinely interesting to listen to - from acoustic strumming to surf rock to electronic pulsing by way of a 12-bar blues incorporating middle eastern scale cycles. So much indie music nowadays sounds like it was made by a group of students who could barely wake up from their drug-induced coma long enough to strum a chord. Django Django have proven that it doesn't have to be like that.

5. Tenacious D - Rize of the Fenix.

It has been a few years since Jack Black last engaged in serious music production, and apparently no one knew it better than the man himself. His return to his old band became the very subject of this album, beginning with a teaser video in which he and bandmate Kyle Gass train to reach their former status again and culminating in their first studio release since 2006. The album itself is almost too clever, folding back in on itself as a comeback album about making a comeback album and the problems relating to that. Musically, the duo do not put a single foot wrong, bringing in strings, horns, and the ever-exceptional Dave Grohl on drums. It's one thing to proclaim yourself the greatest band of all time, but quite another to become it. Tenacious D are certainly back on the right track.

4. Muse - The 2nd Law.

Muse found themselves in a similar situation to Tenacious D in 2012, having gone a few years since their last, underwhelming release, The Resistance. The 2nd Law made none of the same mistakes as their 2009 effort, which fell back too much on what had gone before. Instead, it positively explodes with creativity, flying out of the gates with a song that wouldn't sound out of place as a Bond theme, an electronic dirge (Madness), grandiose funk, an orchestral arrangement and the Olympic anthem Survival. The second half of the album settles down a little, but still contains enough fresh material to make it Muse's best work yet, from the silky-smooth Animals to the pulsating Isolated System. Not once does it cease to be inventive, and that's what Muse needed to deliver on after previously playing it too safe.

3. Diablo Swing Orchestra - Pandora's Pinata.

Everything you need to know about Diablo Swing Orchestra is evident from their name: an eight-piece (almost an orchestra) metal band playing the devil's music with more than a hint of swing, jazz, tango, and in fact anything else that takes their fancy. Pandora's Pinata is their most ambitious work yet, and by definition also their best, since the more eclectic the group become, the better they sound as a whole. The album opens with Voodoo Mon Amour, something akin to a Parisian cabaret tune played over crunching rock guitars, follows up with a pair of metal songs featuring jagged Mexican trumpet rhythms, before segueing into an Arabic-influenced cello solo and demented Japanese-style pop-rock. By the time it gets to Aurora, a space-age piece of Italian opera, nothing is surprising any more, and so the album winds down in a suitable fashion, blasting through funk, choral music and rabid thrash with Annalouice Loegdlund belting over the top like a Wagnerian soprano. The closing Justice for Saint Mary is truly spectacular, morphing from an acoustic love song into orchestral metal and finally descending into industrial grindcore. Not since Mr. Bungle's 1999 masterpiece California has such wildly incoherent music sounded so good. Two videos here, because the sheer variety of the album cannot be summed up in one song.

2. Die Antwoord - TEN$ION.

The Cape Town trio entered 2012 under a cloud of controversy following them being dropped from their label as a result of what was deemed to be an inappropriate music video. They responded in kind by releasing the video anyway from their newly-created label; it gained over a million views in its first week on YouTube. The subsequent album was just as surprising, abandoning the home-made feel of their debut and heading into an entirely different universe with a truly futuristic aesthetic. Not that it's inaccessible - most of this wouldn't sound out of place in a club, especially the singles I Fink U Freeky and Baby's on Fire. Nor is it perfect - Hey Sexy very quickly begins to grate and the spoken-word interlude Uncle Jimmy is just awful. But the fact remains that there is some hugely inventive music on show here: two tracks entitled Never le Nkemise book-end the album and fuse churning dubstep with Zulu choral music, while Fatty Boom Boom is spurred along by clattering tribal percussion and the breathless rapping of Watkin Jones and Andri du Toit. The mysterious yet fantastically talented DJ Hi-Tek pulls the strings musically, despite no concrete evidence that he even exists, at least as one individual. That banned video? It turned out to be a statement for gay rights in South Africa, twisting a homophobic  Mike Tyson quote into an empowering message, simultaneously highlighting the oversensitivity of label executives and the plight of homosexuals in Africa. And you don't get that from Nicki Minaj.

1. Jack White - Blunderbuss.

With the White Stripes long gone, and the future of side projects The Raconteurs and The Dead Weather looking increasingly uncertain, it was time for Jack White to try his hand at a solo album. Not that there would be anything particularly revolutionary about this - the Detroit-born blues man had clearly been the major creative force behind his previous bands anyway, and was definitely sitting on unreleased material, meaning it was just a matter of getting his ideas down. When he did, the results were staggering - a frank dissection of his recent divorce and relationships in general, Blunderbuss does not pull any punches lyrically, while melding together the best of all of his musical influences to create something akin to a "sound" without being monotonous. Wistful acoustic heartbreak rubs shoulders with cathartic garage rock and old-school blues, culminating in a bit of all three at once in the closing Take Me With You When You Go. Love Interruption is an almost nauseatingly painful ode to the side effects of a breakup, I Guess I Should Go to Sleep is a cheerful piece of country rock, while I'm Shaking warps a Little Willie John blues tune into a frantic garage-gospel mash-up of frightening power. In terms of songwriting, this is comfortably White's best work to date, and while there are no individual future classics in the mould of Seven Nation Army, the album as a whole flows more coherently than anything in his back catalogue. Polished, professional and yet never too far from the ground, Blunderbuss is the standout album in a year of standout albums. Where Jack White goes from here is anybody's guess, but it is safe to say that for now he is set in stone as a musical legend of the 21st Century.

TJGreenwood.

Part 4 - The Aftermath of the Apocalypse

I would like to say that I had been delaying this update in anticipation of the world coming to an end, but the truth of the matter is I simply couldn't be bothered to write it while spending Christmas at home. Having spent three months away, it felt too good to be back to be thinking of my life out here. Not that things had been going badly in the run up to the holidays; far from it in fact...

Dusseldorf

Shortly after my last post, I headed to the state capital of Nordrhein-Westfalen for a British Council-organised meeting for all English language assistants in the Cologne, Detmold and Aachen regions. Sounding initially tedious in its description - a museum visit, a puppet theatre and a tour of the local government building - it more than exceeded expectations. The museum dealt with the Ruhr region: essentially a group of cities that merged into a massive urban sprawl during the industrial revolution, and was built inside a former coal plant. The puppet theatre staged a performance of The Neverending Story, the 1980s children's film, which turns out to be an adaptation of a German book written as a modern fairy tale with political undertones about the dangers of allowing one individual absolute power. It really wasn't as awful as it sounds. The government HQ was about as exciting as you'd expect, although they did give us some good cake in the canteen. There we also got to know some of the American assistants in the area, who did their best to dispel the stereotypes surrounding their nation but not enough to make me prefer them to the Canadians.

Pictured: Not an American language assistant.

It was in fact a three-day excuse to stay off work, with evening entertainment featuring more prominently in most peoples' intentions than the days' activities. We headed to the bar district for traditional German food and beverages. By which I mean we ate at a Mexican restaurant and then went on to an Irish pub to watch Manchester United lose against Galtasaray, play darts, and drink things that aren't usually served in Germany such as purple (a beer-cider-blackcurrant combination and official drink of Warwick University!) I also took the chance to get to know the Cologne assistants better, something I hadn't really been able to do given my location.

Christmas

December rolled around and my first term in Germany was coming to an end, but not before the extremely lengthy and dragged-out ritual that makes up the festive period over here. It begins on the first weekend of December with the first advent and carries on through St. Nicholas' Day (basically a mini Christmas on the 6th), three other advents and the main event itself, which occurs on the 24th. However, since St. Nicholas/Santa has already visited, it is the baby Jesus who visits later, which must lead to a lot of confused children as the prevailing image on TV is still that of der Weihnachtsmann visiting houses to bring presents down the chimney. The school celebrated in a suitably traditional fashion, with food appearing on tables in the staff room and wreaths of candles being lit in the classrooms. A huge health and safety risk, and yet somehow the school didn't even slightly burn down. Meanwhile my parents came out to see the Cologne Christmas Markets, which are spread across the city, and meet my host family. A week later, my girlfriend arrived for much the same reason. This latter visit was not without incident due to the 12 inches of snow that had already fallen with more coming down as I got on the train to meet her at Dusseldorf airport. To the credit of Deutscher Bahn, it was not delayed by a minute - National Rail, all of your excuses are invalid. What didn't work so well was her flight, which was diverted to Cologne once I was already at the airport. My blood pressure rising by the second, I got on another train across the state to finally catch up with her. On the positive side, I got to see Leverkusen in the middle and tick that off my list of German cities visited. All of these visits from home made me feel somewhat homesick, so I have to admit I was glad to be back in time to see in the end of creation at home. So when -  rather anticlimactically I thought - that didn't happen, I realised I still needed to buy presents, so headed to Leamington to combine that with seeing the friends and girlfriend again.

And this fool, who still won't leave us alone for some reason.

Another Christmas came and went, and all too soon it was time to return to Bedburg. Travel was surprisingly painless, and Sunday was spent unpacking and hitting the gym in keeping with the family's new year's fitness drive. I must say this was welcome news given my horrendous overeating at home. I also brought my new phone out with me, which has the capacity to allow me to play Temple Run and thus ruin my life for good, or at least until I beat Justin Bieber's high score of nine million.

If only out of respect to the Canadian president who had to put up with him wearing that.

In other news I came out with 74% on a French essay I submitted before the break, despite not being in France or even being particularly involved in what's going on in that country at the moment. Hopefully this foreshadows a successful start to the new year! Here's a sample of what the kids seem to be into these days in Germany:

And on a more serious note, proof that German satirical pop is still the best there is:

TJGreenwood.