And Just Like Warrant, I Saw Red

In the past I've made no secret of the fact that I think Berlin rocks.  It really, seriously does.  The art, the food, the music!  The Berliners!  In Berlin, it's not what you do to earn your keep that counts; you work to live, but art is the thing that sustains you.  The bi-product of such a mentality is a town full to bursting with creative types who spend half their lives in friendly servitude at your favourite bar/restaurant/cafe (who can pick a favourite?!), and their other (real) life at the mercy of their art.  If you are amongst the lucky few, then you are able to combine your work and your passion.  If you are not so lucky, then you work to eat, and you live to create.  

Of course, if you live in Mitte, then maybe you live to procreate instead  (Burnside Belles watch out, the Mitte Mums are hot on your tracks).  Hah!  I crack me up.

Of course, my perspective is slightly warped because everytime I visit, I am priviledged to hang with the loveliness that is Miss Michelle O'Brien and her entourage of hipster artists DJ types. If one is to be judged by the people with whom one chooses to cavort, then consider Michelle the Queen of Cool.

For better or worse, on both of my whirlwind visits to Berlin, I have failed epically to capture the essence of the city from the perpective of the erstwhile tourist.  Don't think it's not through lack of interest, I am a history major after all - Modern Europe was once my bread and butter.  It's just that with all that music, and parklife, street art and weiss beer, I've never found the time to seek out the museums. 

Anyway, on this particular trip, I have a good excuse, it was Michelle's 30th birthday and the reason for my (our, Meredith - The Other One - came too) visit was to help her ring in her Fourth Decade in syle - in RED style.  Some daytime shots of wandering around the town, and then on to the party, which was red-hot awesomeness.

Meredith II

The grumpiest Berliner I met was this ugly pooch.  Man was he mean, he was all: 'Get off my dirt farm'.

Berlin in one block - from old to new.

This boat looked partied out.  The next day, I definitely felt its pain.

Outside the party venue - which was next to one of Berlin's most infamous (and seriously tiny, ramshackle), clubs - Club Der Visionaere.  The venue itself was a rooftop.  The building below was a warehouse/artist studio conversion that was literally a maze of corridors, staircases and studio spaces that made negotiating your way to the toilets after a few bevvies pretty damn funny.  The rooftop was perfectly placed alongside the River Spree and was amped up by masses of red party balloons and the music which played hard all night thanks to an amazing DJ lineup.  Perfection.

Club Der Visionaere

Before the party, outside the venue.

Red or dead.

Michelle (on the right) hot to trot in her raunchy red wig.

So somebody was having too much fun to take many photos during the bulk of the festivities, and the camera only came out again much much later, so ... here we are, still partying with the birds.

Michelle, just before she decided to do the sensible thing and head home for some much needed rest.  Me?  Not quite ready yet.

Still vodka to drink?  I'm still here then.

That's Meredith (The Other One) in there somewhere, pretending the doof doof has finally stopped.

Katrina and me, keeping on keeping on.

Just about out of steam, but still enough beans for a little trip to Club Der Visionaere to see the die hards at 9am.

Nova Kane, our resident red hot superstar DJ.


Back in the studio.

Meredith awakes to a beautiful new day.

Nova still hard at it.

Then my head exploded.

The end.