World Cup, Day One - for me, not the tournament, it starts tomorrow. A day for bureaucracy, get pass, get money, get settled, get lost. That last bit is obligatory.
Out among the leaves of Berlin's Pichelsberg district, there were four exits on a deserted train station. No 1: wrong, bumped into suave looking lad playing tennis on his own. Just like in any big city in England. No 2: wrong, doubled back and tried the other end. No 3: wrong, but getting sense that there might be life nearby. No 4: Oh aye.
Up the hill to the place where we wait in line to be photographed. Easy. Job done, notice that rather large edifice in the distance could be the Olympiastadion. A couple of those smiling volunteers wave me through a gate and on the horizon, there it is. Big. Big as a World Cup.
Then on the left some rather imposing architecture appears through the trees. Never been in this part of Berlin before but this feels familiar and there it is, the Jesse Owens Olympiastadion stadium. Covered in tents but recognisable.
Immediately take gravitas pill and wonder about the burden of German history. What these trees have seen. How the Germans must love us talking about what it must mean to be German.
Time for late lunch. Leave Pilchardsburg, head back into central Berlin on a shuttle bus provided. There are two people on it, me and a pinstriped man with a Fifa badge. He's clearly wealthier then me and you'd probably say deservedly so.
Dropped off at the "Interconti" as the driver has it. It's near Zoo train station so I make for there and the U2 line. Aren't U2 just great? When does the football start?
Down on Unter den Linden I have Nick Cave's Lime Tree Arbor going through an otherwise empty head. He lived in Berlin, Cave, didn't he, when it was divided and cool.
I have an idea, go to that exhibition: Germany, Land of Ideas. I do, but it's 5.15 and it shuts at six. Four euro, danke.
Quick! Early Culture and the Middle Ages. Done. Reformation and the Thirty Years' War. Done. Supremacy and German Dualism in Europe. Done. Wonder if the have a cafe. From the French Revolution to the second German Empire. Done. Suddenly it's five to six and I haven't got to Weimar. As they say near Carlisle, "Ecclefechan".
Back to the hotel where the record shop opposite is blasting out Land of Hope and Glory. In the window there is a display about Leni Riefenstahl. I'm becoming burdended by the burden of German history and it's Day One.
Buy Daily Mirror and go for coffee and a salad comprising leaves, raw meat and artichokes. Good choice. Turn to racing page to peruse races already run. Make mental note to check on internet if they have Ladbrokes in Berlin as they now do in Brussels. Also look to see if there is any more about Horatio Nelson and the Derby. Nope.
