Do you remember that a while ago I got a little bit overexcited about some shutter painting on my walk home from the station? Some things change, some things stay the same. I’m still overexcited but the shutter is freshly painted.
I like the new one very much. The word clouds of the shop’s wares are a nice touch, and the little faces peeking out of the bottom corners are sweet. But what I particularly like is that everything has been covered except my little painter and decorator bottom left. Revisit the earlier post for a close up and more chatting about him…
Anyway, it makes me happy that there is brilliant new art work, but he’s still there. I also don’t understand why more shop owners don’t do this, get someone to paint them something fantastic and thereby avoid scummy pointless tagging. Ok, some may argue that tagging isn’t pointless but when compared to really innovative art that just happens to be on the street, I can’t really agree that pathetic scrawls have much worth.
Secondly, and just because I snapped it on the same day, a poster that’s showed up around my part of town. What does it mean?
Does it matter what it means? I like it. Still to come: more pictures from the Sausage Palace, Mantha’s visit and a random fireman competition in Potsdamer Platz (yes really). But now it’s my last night with Manth and I’m off to be socialable. Wine anyone? xxx
Ladies and Gents, the saga of The Bike in Berlin continues to unfold. You’ll remember The Bike’s first appearance and subsquent non-mover status on The List, no doubt. You probably also remember the big day when I done gone and bought one for a ludicrously cheap price*. Then came the getting to know you phase, when I could also have been tempted into believing that cycling is A Good Thing, were it not for all the other traffic on the road. Parks I can do with great insouciance but the roads in Mitte are a little bit more challenging, not least because of all the pro-cyclists who would really rather that I wasn’t in the way.
But before I was converted to the bike lovers’ side, we had the vastly disappointing summer, when it rained often and much and confirmed that I am, if any kind of cyclist at all, certainly a fair weather one. So The Bike languished in the Hof**, unloved and a little feared.
But after weeks of guilt and shame at my fahrrad failure, I finally girded my loins and prepared to cycle to a softball game, only to discover that I had chronic puncture problems as well as an embarassingly rusty chain. The Bike was having its revenge.
And so my friends, we come to the point wherein I must confess that I’ve never fixed a puncture in my life and I’m not sure that I’m up to it. The week following the discovery was mad busy and then I visited the UK but now I’m back and I need to deal with The Situation. Today I really wished that The Bike was available for riding so it may just tip me over the edge and force me to confront it this week. Internet at the ready. Bike boys may be called for back up/post traumatic stress counselling and so on. Wish me luck folks, wish me luck.
*bike shown is not The Bike, but the Elvis is great and the whole picture just pleased me
**not to be confused with the Hoff, although both are indeed German
I’ve been meaning to grab a photo of this and share it with you for a while. Isn’t it fabulous? Love the fully wrapped around, bootilicious, tattooed, utterly shameless sexiness of it.