It’s official, I’m an utterly awful blog writer type person. I’ve also been an utterly awful social media type person for a month or so as I’ve been hiding from Farcebook in order to preserve my sanity, what with all the Donary Trumpton fighting in the USofA and otherwise rational people in the UK thinking that the Labour Party offer any kind of… yeah, that’s the sort of thing that I’ve been hiding from so I’ll leave the political ranting for the moment.
Aaaaaanyway; since the last time I posted on this much neglected blogspace I have, as those unfortunate enough to be on my -now also neglected- Faceache friend feed will be aware, fled the benighted and scurvied isle of Britain for a land where I don’t speak the lingo. This meaning that I can’t read the news which is actually rather good for my blood pressure. Woo-hoo!
That land being Germany.
It’s strange here.
It’s really familiar in many ways, especially as the lingo is really close to English meaning that I can often get the gist of what something says even if I can’t follow conversations quite yet. It’s familiar but talking about the familiar things would just be dull so I’m going to spraff a wee bit about things that have tickled me since I arrived. 🙂
Firstly, the Germans love the environment. When I say that I mean they really love it. I’m living in Niedersachsen, well I’m living in Bremen but Niedersachsen sounds better, which is really flat. It’s Dutch flat. Which means that it’s pretty ideal for wind power generation and so there are wind turbines slowly chopping away at the air absolutely everywhere. They also recycle everything and, not only that, you actually get money for returning old glass bottles, plastic bottles, and aluminium cans to the supermarket. It’s like the much missed 20p return on Irn Bru bottles but with pretty much everything. Germany also has these amazing population reduction programs in operation whereby you can drive as fast as you want on the Autobahn but there are no lights to help you see at night! Pedestrian crossings are also set up so that they tell you to walk at the same time as they allow cars to turn into the road you are crossing. Malthus would be creaming himself.
I’ve also discovered that Turkish immigration has had such an effect on the country that they have named the fourth day of the week after a kebab. Hell they named a city after a burger so why not a day after a kebab? Fantastic!
As well as the Donnerstag weekly kebab fest another thing that the entire nation seems to do as one is watch the television at 20:15 on a Sunday. You’ve heard about how the British national grid used to struggle to keep up with everyone making a cup of tea during the ad break of Coronation Street? Well Sunday evening’s Tatort is the German equivalent except that this is a show about bloody and violent murders rather than affable idiots in a faux working class community. Volumes, this speaks them.
As I mentioned I’m currently living in Bremen. You’ve heard of it, I’m sure. It’s where Germans send dying animals to perform for their amusement. It’s a pretty funky little city from what I’ve seen of it so far. What I’ve seen so far though is rather limited I will admit and I’m mostly basing this off my experience of das Viertel which is the neighbourhood in which I have found myself. It’s a pretty fly area where something always seems to be happening in the bars or the local youth centres that are run by punks. There’s also a crazy wee bar that, for some reason, makes me think of the Mos Eisley Cantina but with more punks and antifa than weird looking aliens.
So yeah, ich bin am leben and I will have a new wee collection of stories to annoy you all about as soon as I can find some kind soul with a copy of InDesign so that I can lay the bugger out. I’m also working on a few new things including a longer piece called Kolera that I’m pretty excited about. I’ll probably wander back into the world of Facebake at some point but, for now, I’m steering well clear. Apologies if I’ve ignored messages or owt but I’m much more likely to respond to emails if you have been trying to get in touch with me.