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    “The city’s ok, but the architecture’s a little Gaudi…” OMG architectural pun FTW Scarcely a week since I was enjoying the exotic luxury of a Dutch desk, I’ve returned from yet another business trip, this time to the much more envy-inducing city of Barcelona. Even packing my bag, I knew things would be different. This time, I would need nothing more than two thin cotton dresses, heavy-duty suncream and some unspeakably elegant beaded designer sandals – well, I managed to provide the first two at least. And yes, arriving in Barcelona was pretty much the sexiest thing ever;...

I went up a small mountain while making notes on business strategy. LIKE A BOSS. *sob*. I am writing this entry in Edinburgh airport, waiting for my flight back to Berlin. And in order to give you the emotional background to this post, you should know that I have just discovered huge zany geometric shapes all over the screen of my beloved Kindle that are definitely not supposed to be there. I am writing this post in the midst of abject sorrow. But why the heck are you in Edinburgh, you might ask? I thought you were going to Berlin...

Good news, everyone! From now on, you’ll be able to find Guten Morgen Berlin via a real, shiny URL: www.gutenmorgenberlin.com. You can now also email in any comments, requests or questions to the new Guten Morgen Berlin email address, ampelfrau[at]gutenmorgenberlin.com. Please feel free to email if you need tips about Berlin, have any other questions or simply want to suggest a theme for a future post – I’d love to hear from every last one of y’all! Peace out.

“Hallo? Ja, ich bin noch im Zug!” (You see this is actually a very good joke indeed, because ‘im Zug’ means ‘on the train’ and yet ‘Zug’ can mean both ‘train’ and ‘parade’. Thank you for listening.)  At a loose end for what to do on Pfingsten, the Pentecostal holiday that for some reason British people choose to ignore entirely (and yet we devote ourselves to Pancake Day. Why? Not that I’m complaining) I was delighted to hear that this weekend was the Karneval der Kulturen. I was slightly less delighted when the weather on the Saturday made the whole...

In Germany, you have to complete physical endurance tests before even entering the shop. True story. I think one of the signs that you have really settled into the everyday life of a new country is when you are able to go shopping, get the things you want and need, and go home. Before this stage is reached, there is a long acclimatisation period which involves long hours spent in malls or supermarkets staring with blank confusion at a row of shelves, none of which seem to contain anything you might have been looking for. When you first begin having...

Note the absence of canine faeces or thieves. Sometimes I spend days with the nagging intention to write a blog post lurking in my stomach without a single good idea of what to write about. It’s easy to squeeze out a fairly banal few paragraphs making exaggerated statements about “Berlin is so X” or “Life is so Y” but you just end up sounding like an amateur stand-up comedian swinging the mic and drawling, “know what I mean?!”. So in these moments I prefer to simply stay quiet and put some time into working out why I haven’t recently fallen...

These aren’t shoes; they’re actually tiny footwear-themed piñatas. Berlin is certainly a free city. Nowhere else will you find a place where doing what you damn well want is so widely accepted. You can dress exactly as you like, drink whatever you want at whatever time of day you want (nothing says ‘morning commuter’ like a crisp suit and a cold beer), take your dog through the shopping mall and protest for or against anything that takes your fancy. There is a strong and slightly unnerving hum of self-confidence buzzing under everyone’s skin; they know what they’re doing and they’re...

“I only wanted to anmeldeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh…..!” We all know that the Germans love their red tape. So, after a wonderful Maitag – which is a holiday in Germany – spent drinking alcoholic syrup at the Baumblütenfest, I began the rest of my week diving head-first into the various bits of delirious admin that are involved in moving to Berlin. What follows is a series of stories, all of which have the same moral: always never accept what you’re told. To begin my adventure, I needed to Anmelden – register as a Berlin resident – at my local Bürgeramt. Of course, my...

Besides, as long as I have access to this, I’ll be ok. While I was prepared to experience a degree of culture shock on my move to Berlin for my year abroad, nothing could have prepared me for the culture shock of moving back to the UK at the end of it. Granted, the first few months of my time there were as disorienting and painful as being smacked square in the face with a frying pan. I had a terrible time. But somehow I got the hang of the place and the language and the people and by the...

This is for Berlin zoo’s last panda, who tragically died last month. I think he choked on a carrot. Where have I been? Why does the site look different? What is the point of anything? I can’t answer all your questions but the first two have the same explanation, which is that I have recently been rather overwhelmed with a single job application which – shock, horror and gaping disbelief – actually led to an email of reply, an interview and then a trip back to Oxford.I have refrained from blogging about the graduate job search thus far for two...