December

Usually, December sees me falling victim to the seasonal affliction of roaming cluelessly and fruitlessly around crowded shopping streets in search of gifts, and generally running around manically trying to get the jobs done around the house that I've been putting off all year.  It's also always been a tense time at work, coping with prison inmates who are facing Christmas away from their families.  This year the festive period presented me with a very different set of challenges.  The past couple of months have, in general, been for me what football managers like to refer to as a 'steep learning curve'.  Adjusting to my new life has been much more complex and stressful than I ever anticipated, and although I'm still stupidly happy to be living in Berlin, the complete change of circumstances has been a bit of a shock to my system.

I've been diligently working away at learning German, often tearing my hair out at the grammar and wondering if I will ever be fluent enough to get a job.  Having Germans tell me what a difficult language it is to learn doesn't exactly fill me with confidence.

Despite the fact that I'd been sleeping better than I had in years, I had become pretty run down and by Christmas I had a rotten cold, which I seem to have infected all my family with (sorry folks).

Still, December had its high points.  At the beginning of the month we had a little trip to Mallorca.  To a native of Northern Europe, experiencing 19-degree temperatures, blue skies and palm trees while Christmas illuminations were up all over the place seemed very surreal.  The Friday was a bank holiday and we decided on impulse to take the rickety wooden train from Palma up to the lovely old town of Soller in the Tramuntana mountains.  The train was packed with excitable Mallorcans enjoying a day off in the sunshine in suitably festive spirits.  Before we hit the mountains - this is a beautifully scenic journey - we rattled alongside woodlands that were full of people barbecuing, setting up picnic tables and generally partying.  This, and the gorgeous weather, made it feel more like Easter than Christmas.  It was incredibly beautiful though; I love Mallorca and I could ramble on at length about the whole trip, but I'll just post some pictures instead.

Christmas itself saw us back in the UK which was being battered by heavy rain and high winds.  We had the freaky experience of living for four days Alan Partridge style in a Travelodge.  It was only a flying visit though, just time to catch up with family, enjoy one of my sister's legendary Christmas dinners and renew acquaintance with the Coopers Tavern in Burton - for my money one of the best pubs anywhere.

We were back in Berlin for Silvester and the lunacy that involves.  We went to see Inside Llewyn Davis at the Sony Centre, Potsdamer Platz, in the afternoon, then went for a pizza before holing up in Wohnzimmer for the evening.  The cute little cocktail bar kept us well-oiled (I've got fond memories of the 'Dirty Dieter') and Helmholtzplatz seemed to be exploding for hours before midnight.  Come the hour itself, everything went mad.  It seemed as though the whole of Prenzlauer Berg had turned up armed with explosives, and for a good hour the square was a riot of noise and colour.

Now it's all over, the fireworks have gone, the Christmas trees have been hurled unceremoniously into the streets, and it's time to grab the new year by the horns and get down to the serious business of finding a job.