I hear snow is due tomorrow.
It's the middle of the Berlin night and I'm back home now, after checking out the scene at King Size, a narrow, smoky and fashionably overcrowded club on Friedrichstrasse.
Allegedly there was something called "Artist's Night" there, but I don't know what that meant. I ordered a shockingly overpriced 5 Euro white wine and sat at the bar hoping I looked mysterious instead of rejected. After an hour of wondering if people took me for a spy, I fought my way out of the front door (a process that took more than 10 minutes, seriously) and jumped into a cab after missing the night bus by about 15 seconds.
That's me the night after New Year's Day...bundled up in bed.
About to do the same now.