Two months, day forty-one: Berlin
Hasselhoff will have to wait.
Following the licentious and Babylonian excesses of last night, there was little tourism to be done today.
In any case, my suggestions that I might visit the David Hasselhoff museum have been met with scorn by people who really should have more respect for the man who single-handedly liberated Germany from itself, so I feel as I can justify not wanting to leave the apartment out of spite.
Tourism would have been difficult anyway because, while the morning was mostly missing, I had lessons in the afternoon and the weather was a little too forboding, so looking at things was limited to a small part of the day in the late afternoon when Host dragged me outside into daylight for a walk around his part of Berlin.
I had the opportunity to look at some street art, to consider visiting the Urban Nation Museum for Urban Contemporary Art (too many people, too little time), and to hunt for a quick and dirty door of the day.
Our evening meal was an(other) Indian at the newly-opened Saravana Bhavan with both Mr and Mr Host, and it was very good value. At first I was put off by the idea that we had to put our names down and join a queue, but in the end the thali plate with an extra nan and a mango lassi made me glad we had.
Sorry, Berlin. I have failed you.
