Well I found it, my first house. Now as I said in my previous post this was a time of "self discovery"...again what a w***y phrase...I'm not about to lie and say upon arriving at Hahnenschrei (the street of my first house) angels descended from above and I was finally freed from years of deprivation, No, and I would be lying if I said a I got a warm fuzzy feeling inside, but it was a pleasant experience none the less. I can finally say, yes, this is where I was born and this was my first house.

However one emotion that did overcome me on the short walk from the tram at Podbielski Strasse to my house was one of sheer hilarity. At a level crossing an old couple pulled up on their bikes...the old man then subsequently, whilst still firmly sat on it, crashed to the floor. I let out a rye laugh before assisting the gentleman...still holding back my immature yet warranted giggles. Now it's times like these I'm glad I'm on my own on these travels as if Thomas Evan Wilcox would've had been with me, once again we would have laughed in an old man's face...again. I've said it before and I'll say it again, it maybe a cheap laugh, but people falling over Is. f***ing. Hilarious.

Last night after I had been to my local I decided to go to the bar across from my hotel, called Sausalitos. They've used a cactus not at all shaped like a "T" to represent the "T" in their logo...it's mexican themed...get it?...some would say that's good creative marketing...I'd say it was f***ing s***.

In the bar I met this lad for which the only word I can use to describe is Viiiiiiirrrgggiiiiinnnnn! I've no idea how we got talking, you know me, I was pissed. The virgin ordered a coke to which I was inquisitive...he then produced a bottle of Grey Goose out of his inside jacket pocket, no idea how it fit in, he was a virgin after all. I had two contradicting thoughts initially, a) what a c*** b)good effort smuggling your own drink in...although it turned out he'd actually bought it in the bar as there was not much left of the bottle, so b) turned into...what a c*** again.

Now his reasoning for wanting the bottle is what grinds my gears both on this occasion and back in England. In Germany you can get money back for returning your bottles to a supermarket, a good incentive to recycle, but not this bellend. He wanted it for the status symbol. Now all you twonks who sit there drinking Grey Goose that you can't actually afford take a second from injecting yourself with tan and winstrol and listen up! Nice cars and big houses are one thing, you enjoy them because they are nice, you enjoy the luxury and comfort...but drinking a drink that you don't actually do so for the taste, just to hold it and take a f***ing picture with it because it is expensive is just retarded, you end up mixing it with coke or lemonade anyway you complete f***wit. Yes I can still rant whilst travelling. He went on to tell me some s***e story how he went to Malta with some millionaire friends and one 10,000 at poker, I'd switched off and looked for the exit to get away from Mary.