So since I created this blog, I probably should make myself known.

I left Ireland for Berlin in a fit of impetuousness over two years ago. My original intentions were to stay here for the World Cup in 2006, but due to many small but significant events, I ended up staying here.

Life is good here. Berlin is a big city, the biggest on mainland Europe, but the relatively small population means it's not too crowded. Good for a neurotic with a fear of crowds, like me (incidentally, fear of crowds is enochlophobia. How interesting). You couldn't really say that it's very aesthetically pleasing, but it makes up for that in just about every other way.

Every area seems to have its own seperate identity, from Friedrichshain's punk scene to workmanlike Neukölln (where I live despite having only the most occasional and vague tendencies to work) to hip and cool Prenzlauer Berg to Kreuzberg's artists to the sophistication of Charlottenburg. There really is something for everyone.

Berliners themselves? I like them. Not to tar everyone with the same brush, but they're not the friendliest types. Frank, honest and sometimes cruelly blunt to the point of anger-inducing rudeness, there is something endearing about their pride for the city. Only natural, I suppose, when you consider the turmoil that existed here for most of the 20th century.

Turmoil that one barely sees any trace of nowadays. Yes, of course parts of the wall still stand, and war memorials are everywhere, but the rejuvenation of the dilapidated Eastern parts of the city was startling. Have a look at today's Potsdamer Platz, which was a desolte no-man's land during the Cold War.

Anyway, I have rambled on for long enough. Berlin is a good spot. That's all.