Shift workers unite ( if they can get the time off )

Earlies, lates, nights, seven day shift patterns, four on four off. Confused? I bet you are. Let me guess, you work Monday to Friday and have week...ends to your good selves? Well, good for you, hope you enjoy them. There`s always Saturday to do that DIY job but then football, shopping or a social invite may mean you have to do the B and Q trip on Sunday but then you`re back to work on Monday, so by the time you get home from the hassles and frustrations of retail madness, half the day has miraculously dispersed, well, there`s always next weekend!

I`ve been a shift worker since I left school. Monday to Friday doesn`t mean anything to me in that sense. I don`t really get that Friday feeling that radio reminds me one should be having at around 3pm once a week but then I don`t get that enevitable Sunday evening sorrow creeping into my mind to remind me of the impending morning blues. By the way, I`m not intending to offend or upset the the majority of good working folk of the nation who work the normal nine to five, oh no, my issue is for all the people out there who feel SORRY for us! Can I make a stand on this here day and by rightfully declare and shout out loud: `ON BEHALF OF MY FELLOW SHIFT WORKER - PLEASE OH PLEASE DO NOT FEEL SORRY FOR US!!`

Sure we work strange hours to you but maybe you work strange hours to us? It always seems like we`re at work, we`ll actually, I probably get more time off than you. In fact if you would care to spend some more time with me, you might actually dare say that I`m always at home. You see the thing is, I get really irritated by people who feel sorry for me or give me that sobering expression of`poor thing` after I tell them I have to go to work at some unusual hour. Listen here my good people, IT`S NOT THAT BAD!! I`m fully aware of the cons of shift work. Sure, you`re social life does take a pounding, you can`t always get the time off with everyone else and there is the feeling of slight isolation and disruptive sleep patterns. Remember though my young apprentice is that there are Pros. Shift work is a major force in the UK now. Many industries depend on it and could not thrive without. There are such things as a 24hr operations in out midsts.

I work a seven day shift pattern for example. Read and digest. Seven days does seem like a long time to be at work, trying to explain this concept to people is hard sometimes but keep up you`ll get there in the end. After an early shift I`m home at 14:30 so the rest of the afternoon is free time to do whatever I want, be it walk the dog, go for a windy walk or phone a friend. Lates is not quite as good. I`ll hold my sleepy hand up to that statement but I can have a nice lie in the morning if the choice dictates. I can relax, watch morning TV or better still I can get up early and do something productive in the morning, maybe invite the postman in for tea or perhaps plan a hassle free trip to B and Q while everyone else is at work. Nightshifts mean during the day I can do whatever I want. I can take a nice day trip somehere, persue that burgeoning hobby or second job which many of us wish to do. Ok, so I`m up all night but then I can sleep all day if I so choose. If I don`t, well, whilst a few hours would be lost, these can surely be made up. Just think, when you`re sitting on the train being crammed in like a sardine and having to put up with stench of a right guard vacant commuter, I`ll be tucked up in bed dreaming of a better world. To make your day even better, I then have five days off. That's one, two, three, four, five people!! Plenty of time do that DIY job, further that hobby, fix the car, socialise or experience the simple pleasure of shopping with less people or traffic around. I might decide to take a trip to New York, maybe Dubai if spontaneity decided to come knocking at the door and what`s more, I`ll still be back in time for tea a few days later. When work eventually beckons, getting to my destination is less stressful. I don`t tend to sit in traffic like some poor unfortunate souls. My shift start times are a world away from rush hour and road rages. I can just calmly drive into work without a care in my little world and leave with the same little thoughts. Sigh, there is never enough time to do anything in the evening, especially during the week they all say. Hate to make you feel worse but by then we`ve already had dinner, polished up nicely or run our errands. Now, this evening is my oyster. By the time you see me, I`ve already hit the gym or done my class. Perhaps I might go out for a drink, catch a movie or a show, I could even make the cheaper early showing perhaps.

So you see you might want to think carefully next time before you feel sorry for a shift worker. I think the tables have been turned slightly and it`s safe to say we could and maybe we should feel sorry for you. I`ll give you that sorrowful look next time I see you running for that bus on dreary Monday morning or moaning that the weekends go too quick. By the way, don`t bother writing in or coming round to complain. I`ll probably be at work...

A right royal running riot!

The words`never again` came into my head as I closed down the final mile of the magnificent Long walk toward the finish which by the way never seems to arrive in this royal great park of endless tarmac and greenery. One was certainly not amused.

I was taking part in the Windsor half marathon which is held annually in the Queens` `back garden` that is Windsor great park in Berkshire. There was no mass barbecue or game playing on this typically british grey day, rather a immense kenetic swarm of panting bodies with goals in mind, personal achievements to be fulfilled or personal best times to be beat. There are creatures young and old, from every back ground they come foward, from all walks of life they come calling, supported by friends, families and mascots of gleeful cheer. Prior to the race, I shook hands with a runner at the start line, an old boy of sort who had travelled down from Brighton and we were graced with the musical presence of Fatboy Slim aka Norman Cook to `praise us like he should` or better still chant `you`ve got a long way baby`. Micheal Parkinson, who lives in the area was also there at the start to kick or `shoe` off the proceedings as he has a special running squad who were racing for his particular charity. So there was a flavoursome mix of celebrities and mortal runners all eager to set off.

This was the 28th Windsor half marathon and with a healthy ( one hopes ) number of participants always exceeding the 5000 mark, this is a very popular race due to location, proximity to London and the infamous finish where you do really feel like you`ll be joining maam for afternoon tea. The 1pm start is an annoyance to some ( especially as last year was a typical September Indian summer day causing many runners to pull out due to heat stroke ) but there are some advantages. One can afford to have a later night to bed the evening before if desire commands it and there is no dreaded morning rush. A leisurely perhaps even a large breakfast can be consumed and digested in good time hopefully resulting in less cramp or pre race indigestion. Facilties wise, there were plenty of marquees including massage tents, running shop vendors, fast food vans and bouncy castles to keep the young guns entertained. There was also no issues in storing bags and personal belongings which was quick and painless. The area takes up a majority of the park known as `The Gallop` which is nested between the long walk and Queen Anns ride, think one vast clearing in the centre of it all. This enabled plenty of walking space and there was ample room to meander around in and out of all the various establishments until such time as the need for the dreaded portaloo which always gets to `cosy` the nearer one gets to start time.

The route itself is scenic, starting with a gentle jog ( you have no choice due to the sheer amount of runners at the start ) with an incline towards the majestic copper horse and a left turn toward Bishops gate, passing the royal lodge which was once official residence for the Queen mother and now to Prince Andrew. From there, a swift glide takes the particpant on a loop around the back of `Snow hill` and to a rather steep incline to the copper horse once again. Here, you are barely halfway, although the encouragement from spectators partcularly at this stage is amazing and injects a much needed lift of spirits to tackle the second half. The prior route is taken for a while until around mile 7 whereby a detour is taken toward `Cumberland gate` passing the silent but proud white edifice that is the royal polo ground. A nice run downhill from here is a welcome retreat whereby the border of the park rests on the fringes of Virginia water. The loop back to toward the copper horse is a mixture of slight undulations and teasing hills, the water stations offer a comforting diversion. What makes this race special though is the finish. A spectacular view of the castle in all its glory awaits and the one mile downhill run toward it. It`s almost like a never ending runway with a speck of a finish line in the distance which never seems to arrive. Due to the long walk being fairly minimal in width this creates a certain closeness to the cheering spectators on either side resulting in a unique atmosphere. The pain is there but is certainly retracted somewhat and is a great distraction for the running minds and their depleting energy levels.

So time to gather my trumpet and blow. How did I do? Well, last year was my first Windsor half marathon which I completed in 2 hours 4 minutes and in rather searing heat. Since then, I`ve completed three further races elsewhere including one abroad and have noticed an improvement in my times. I started off well this year, almost to well. I did feel I was slightly flagging during the second lap and practically walked up the last hill before the finish. Telling myself that I hadn`t beaten my PB ( 1 hour 55 mins) and that it would be good to just to finish, I was rather pleased to see 1hr 46 mins in all its digital might perched above the finishing line. My chip time was 1 hour 45 mins, a new personal best, thank you very much!

So apart from that last painful mile, I`d recommend any one to take part in the Windsor running experience, after all , it is my local and I`ll always feel at home taking part in the royal run. So will I be doing it again next year? Just try and stop me...

Konbonwa, ogenki desuka?

Konbonwa, ogenki desuka?

No, I hadn`t been taken over by aliens just then but I`d like to tell you when I did feel like one during a visit to this particular country last year after hopping of my flying saucer with wings and British Airways written on the side.

This particular planet is often called land of the rising sun. It`s also known for its polite/courteous and sometimes other worldly inhabitants whos customs and rituals can confuse even the most law abiding and culture appreciating traveller. It also has some of the most outragious fashions especially within the younger generation and if you like karoke, you`ll be a permanent x factor wannabe.

I`m sure you`ve guessed it by now. I`m going to talk to you about that country that seems to get missed of many peoples` travel lists because it`s too expensive, which it isn`t - that is, Japan. I was fortunate enough to be let in last year for a few weeks and I`d like to share with you my experiences and some interesting facts about this fascinating island where you do really feel like you`ve just left Earth. By the way, don`t let that small amount of Japanese at the beginning fool you that I actually learned how to say `good evening, how are you?` That`s where google comes in handy.

Japan is situated in the Pacific ocean east of China, Korea and Russia and is made up of many small islands within an island. It has many active volcanoes and Mt fuji although iconic for the country, could burst its hot fury at any time. The country is one of the worst for volcanic and sesmic activities and although the buildings are built to withstand an uninvited onslaught, I was glad I never had the pleasure to receive this unwanted occurance. Japan also has the second largest economy and is world renowned for its cuisine, hard to believe that only a century ago meat was rarely eaten and the staple diet was rice, noodles, tofu and fresh vegetables.The Japanese also believe heavily in spirituality and try to live their lives by this. Shinto and Buddism are hugely respected and followed, you will see shrines and temples decicated to these dotted all over the country. How can I forget to mention the Samurai, the way of the sword and Sumo wrestling, Japan is steeped highly in history and tradition.

I visited three areas in Japan; Tokyo, Kyoto and Hiroshima. I`m going to talk specifically about my stay in Tokyo.

On my arrival to the main station the sheer amount of people around was overwhelming and this wasn`t even rush hour. I wanted to take a sneaky picture of a train packed like sardines at 5.30pm, that could wait. After trying to work out the tube map which would make you nauseous and doubting your own sanity, I had to get some fresh air. Walking down the street, feeling hungry and thirsty, I had the pleasure of trying out one of the futuristic street vending machines which by the way are legendary. They sell all manner of wierd drinks with strange names, even a humble beer which looks out of place in the plethora of strange liquids. These machines sell all sorts of things depending on where in the city you are, such as clothes, underwear and other worldly goods. For food, I thought I`d try a local cafe. I choose something that vaguely resembled food, it looked edible and the text was in Japanese. I didn`t have a clue what I was eating, all a part of the fun one assumes.

Tokyo at night is when it all happens. You really do feel like an extra in Bladerunner with the flashing neon, frenetic energy and glaring advertisments. Every area in Tokyo has a diffent feel and identity. The first evening I want to an area called Shibuya, slightly hip and trendy. Straight out of the station and there`s a cute female rock band belting out a bit of rock and roll. The dress code around here is out there to say the least. There is a really big thing in Japan called cos play. This isn`t some bizzare sexual act but more like a permanent fancy dress party where people dress like maids, strange goths or medieval attire. It`s almost like the actors and actresses had left the show and forgot to get changed. Speaking of Maids they have these maid cafes dotted around the city too where you can have cakes, jelly and ice cream all served by the cuteist of girls dressed up as, well, maids. It sounds wrong as I`m sure you`ll agree but to the Japanese it`s cute and you have to get your head around that a little bit, they are obsessesd with all things cute.

Whilst navigating the Hachiko crossing, which by the way is the worlds busiest, I noticed an abundance of office workers looking like they`d just clocked off shift. Rather strange I thought as this was 11pm at night.The japanese do work hard and late but they certainly play hard too hence the need for the capsule hotel, a small rectangular space with just enough room for a bed and small tv with a door resembling a giant washing machine. Designed of course by the Japanese and made to store many a business man who`d been drinking to much, working too late or missed the last train home.

Tokyo is divded into wards and there are 23 of them, each having its own unique identity. To find an address here is a mission in itself due to the sheer scale and division of these said wards. It even has its own beach which when not being threatened with a Tsunami, can be reached easily by monorail affording great views of the city. It has its own Eiffel tower with its `original` title, `the Tokyo tower` and a replica statue of Liberty, so there are a few western influences in the city albiet a bit tacky. Getting around is easy by a very efficient transport network although they do pack them in. Luckily most of them never seem to bothered by this as they seem to be heavily indulged in their manga comics or hi tech games.

While on the subject of games, one major obsession played by almost everyone regardless of age or gender is a game called pachinko which is like a cross between pinball and a slot machine with thousands of little silver balls. No one admits to playing but walking around various districts in the city, one cannot help but notice the sheer volume who are at the helms. Walking through one is much like an amplified casino with the sound of rushing coins and bleep sounds that R2D2 would have trouble reaching for. In simliarity to Las vegas, these seem to pop up everywhere. An even more bizarre thing is that these are technically illegal. Gaming in general is big business in Tokyo and there are numerous arcades to satisfy every type of techno head. One can see a business man winding down after a hard day at work playing some shoot em up game or a terrible teenager trying to impress his lady by reaching the next level.

With all the high tech gadgetry, Tokyo does have its old historic side. I visited a particular area called Asakusa which was once the hub of old school city nightlife of a by gone era. Here is where you will find numerous temples, shrines and smells of traditional Japan. Walking around here one could smell a scent of unrecognisable food, insense and other burning aromas. I found myself walking down an old market leading to a magnifent temple along side a classic piece of arhitecture known as a Pagoda, which is a tiered tower with multiple eaves - a familar site all around Japan and Asia. I stumbled upon a thriving, bustling street lined with numerous worn cafes and ancient eateries. The clientele seemed mainly Japanese, definately a local hang out. No one spoke English and all the menus were unreadable. Thinking it would be a good idea to sit with the natives, we sat down, took our chances and randomly picked something off the menu, hoping for the best. Luckily the choice was good and the food excellent. It was one of the many times in Tokyo where I felt like the only westerner in the village!

I can`t mention Japan without talking about the infamous bullet train. First conceived in the late fifties. These trains with the infamous bullet nose can reach speeds of up to 275 mph and yet to this day there has never been any fatalities or derailments. Riding the `Shinkansen` as its more known, is a ritual that starts from turning up at the station, buying your ticket then choosing a bento box for the journey. A bento box is a wooden box with little compartments containing various edibles such a raw fish, noodles and seaweed, Tapas Japanese style. Part of the fun is that you don`t really know what you are getting as each box varies one to the other so it all makes for interesting culinery experience. Once you have choosen your bento box you then queue in an orderly line dictated by markings on the platform according to which seat and cabin you are in, nobody detracts from this. While you are waiting there is some nice ambient music playing over the speakers with birds twittering and other relaxing animal sounds. The people glance at their watches, these trains are notorious for being dead on time, to the second, they take great pride in this and they certainly won`t be waiting around for you. Finally the train pulls in, endless carriages abound until the door to your cabin is perfectly aligned to your queue. For the next few hours you are happily eating some unknown delicacies whilst being transported at great speed in what is essentially an aircraft cabin on rails but with much more legroom and far less turbulance.

I hope to have given you a small insight into to this fascinating country. Japan ticks a lot of boxes for me. You have your mix of old cultures and traditions along with new, modern, foward thinking ideas, inventions and attitudes. You have your urban dweller areas but a swath of greenery and mountainous scenery is only a short ride away, some of it actually reminded me of England. I like the way they live their lives in a spiritual, religious way and whilst some of the strange customs especially when it comes down to business will seem outdated to some, one comes to accept and appreciate this in time. Even using the futuristic style toilets is a pleasent experience as it can get. The crime is extremely low and most people apologise to you when it perhaps should have been the other way round. You don`t have to eat at fancy restaurants to get a good quality meal or shop at the most expensive districts to get the best clothes, although if you want to spend like a lottery winner, the city will embrace you with open arms. I found the Japansese people to be very warm and welcoming and I never once felt intimidated, threatened or out of place. Of course you will never feel quite in place either as it`s true what they say. A visit to Japan is as close enough as you will get to visiting another planet without having actually left Earth.

Back to Berlin...

`Ich bin ein Berliner`, those famous words uttered by Mr Kennedy. Intended of course to offer the citizens of the great city a lasting hope and possible realisation of soon being able to tread from East to West and back again without the threat of being shot or imprisoned, it`s one of the most memorable quotes in history. The German language is at best colourful, boisterous and proud but complexity walks alongside it. If only the American president would have omitted that one little word`ein`, the message would have been anything other than`I am a donut`. He meant well; however, the small freudian slip shall forever bring a slight smile to many a German soul, be it externally or internally. The cold grey wall eventually came tumbling down so if anything, JK is having the last laugh and I don`t mean Rawling.

I visted Berlin in a rather dreary March month this year. In some ways the grey weather almost gives the city more soul. It`s not asthetically pleasing to the eye like Prague or Venice but there is something about the urban landscape that I find immensely appealling, with its mix of Communist architecture against typical western European flavours and the added spices of decaying landscapes with worn out factories. You can`t judge a book by its cover they tell us, you would be foolish to do so without even turning at least one leaf. Think of Berlin as a Lord of the rings novel, perhaps difficult to comprehend at first but it starts making sense the further you dig in. The wealth of history, culture, business and characters contained within are vast and colourful. Yes, there was the war and there is still an underlying shadow on display with remenants and reminders of the Hitler regieme. You`ll still find numerous bullet holes in buildings and the Nazi architecture prevails. Nether the less, this city has a healthy pulse of epic proportions. I`ve lost count of the number of times I`ve read about a fledgling musician or writer having moved here due to the openminded attitude and healthy interest to anything arty, alternative or foward thinking. It`s cheaper than say London or Paris but as a creative type myself, one of the best things you can do is immerse yourself with like minded spirits and have the opportunity to taste the vast array of cultural offerings which are effortlessly put on the table here. This is no ordinary meal, we`re talking class gourmet with the best champagne money can buy, just add the word`edgy`for the sauce and the cycle is complete. The nightlife of course is well documented and I must admit to thinking I had an agreeable amount of stamina, good but not the best as I was to discover. Hedonism is a boring word in the German vocabulary. Here, nightclubs go on for days and indeed some club worshippers slot in their weekly shop before heading back again for part two.



Part one of my trip for me was to participate in the Berlin half marathon known as`The vantenfall`. Fall being the last four letters did not instill the utmost confidence in me for the race ahead but I`m a running man and us running troopers never stop. Actually, it`s the name of the company who sponser it. Anyway, this was my first venture abroad to run and as a soloist to add. I would be on my own for 5-6 days before meeting some freunde ( that`s Friends to you) but for now, it was just me and my trainers for company. Germans take their running very seriously by the way. The event I was to participate in is one of the biggest in the calender and the spectatorship is huge. An expected 25000 were to run or possibly 24999 if I were to`fall`so I was looking foward to taking part.

Upon my arrival to Alexanderplatz, I was greeted with the smell of steaming Bartwurst (typical German sausage to the unenlightened) and other delightful scents. Alexanderplatz is one of the main meeting points in Berlin. Formally a part of the East, the striking TV tower known locally as`the golfball`tees up into the heavens with communistic strokes while the main station crouches bewilderingly underneath hoping not to be stamped upon. It`s a hive of activity and people watching. Since the latter is one of my favourite past times, I just had to take five, set my eyes accordingly and endulge in a freshly cooked bratwurst roll washed down with a fine local beer. Ok, it`s hardly the Ritz but frankly my dear, I don`t give a damn. One of the best things about Berlin is that you can aquire these rolls almost anytime, anywhere and they are fresh. Nobody makes a sausage like the Germans do, it`s true. It`s all very simple you know, just add a plain crusty roll with either a bratwurst or currywurst, cover with desired sauce be it mustard or tomato ketchup and you have a hearty lunch to keep you going. If you would like to blend in with the locals, you can do no worse than with the two Bs.



I stayed and strayed east as my hotel was situated in an area called Friedrichshain on the outskirts of the city. I took public transport and as you can imagine, getting there, in this case by U bahn was strikingly easy. Puntuality and organisation on both the U and S Bahn prevails and the ticketing system is very simple to understand. Another thing worth noting is the good quality food and drink a commuter can purchase on the platform or station, almost as good as your grandmother could conjure up and none to pressing on the wallet. With a variety of colourful sandwiches, lavishing pastries and caffeine inducing beverages on display, I knew a difficult choice would be faced with breakfast or lunch during my stay. On arrival to my lodgings, greying soviet style apartment blocks surrounded me, not much to be in awe of but viewing these rather grotesque monoliths gave me a heightened sense that this area was once under Russian rule. I thought about the people living there, wondering what changes they must have seen or been through. Of typical communist infrastructure, the streets and avenues are very wide, also very symmetrical, it was almost like a sudden teleportation to Moscow had taken place with street names such as`Karl Marx allee`. For some reason though, I found this type of architecture to be fascinating, visually impressionable with a look of demanding attention. From where I was situated, it continued like a great linear trench to Alexanderplatz whereby the Western influences strive to take over. It`s also noticeable that rather than eliminate the eastern`blocs` of concrete, Berlin has converted alot of these fomer GDR edifices into bars, cafes and clubs which in turn has given them a slightly dark, danky and retro atmopshere yet with a hint of`charm`to days of old. This coupled with the ancient, haunting disused power stations, bleak landscapes and other rust lorn industrial graveyards has provided an ideal shop floor in the form of dance for the creatures of the night to gather together and party the night away. The music can be as industrial as it needs to be as the venues are too far and desolate from residential ears.

The next morning after a recovering from a few mispent hours the night before drinking German schnapps with a couple of travellers I had met at a restaurant, I proceeded into town, flightpath inserted, to the disused Berlin Templehof aerodrome to pick up my pack for the race. The venue in question was an awesome sight to behold. Looking like an unspiring row of office blocks from the exterior, a short walk through the aging terminal provided a drawbridge to the gaping airfield with its huge cresent shaped tiered roof which seemed to go on for an eternity. In its hey day it served as one of the`big three`airports in world war two, alongside Croydon in the Uk and Paris le Bourget. Today however, this was a running club of epic propotions. A plethora of competitors awaited at the start lines to collect their packs, raring to depart. Once in hand, free T shirts abound, food, drink and a running expo could be worn, consumed and viewed in that order. After collecting my pack and a dose of the two Bs, I spent a couple of hours walking around, taking in the atmosphere and being injected with a wealth of leg, foot and trainer information. By now, I was beginning to get quite excited and I was looking foward to getting my running shoes on.


The day of the race was wet and grey but ideal for racing. With typical German organisation, storage of personal goods was simple. Numerous athletes were stretching or having some last few sips of liquid, the imposing`golf ball`tv tower just barely able to take a look. I noticed an abundance of international folk, some in groups, some alone, some as a couple, not forgetting of course, the swath of natives eager to get going, a look of primal focus drawn on their faces. The start was to be opposite the magnificent Berlin cathedral, a perfect setting. I took a light jog to the start and was then swallowed up into the jaws of the vibrating competitors.

The route was non undulating and fairly straight. Proceedings began with a run through the historic gaps of the Brandenburg tor leading down to the infamous Tiergarten and the Berlin victory coloumn. From there we headed toward Charlottenburg, an area of largely Russian breath. Well known areas and landmarks were passed such as Podsdamer platz and the Kaiser-Wilhelm-memorial church - a survivor of the numerous bombings inflicted during the war. The atmosphere was electric, a carnival like atmopshere. Numerous bands played, steel, jazz, rock, all manner of genres being made known perhaps created, keeping the spirits alive whilst the watchers gleefully cheered on their loved ones. As I neared the finish all was not perfect, I happened to see a pair of lifeless limbs stretched out on the floor with the remainder of the body eloped by medical crew. I later found out those legs belonged to a heart attack victim. A stark reality check that a half marathon was not without its risks. Despite crossing the finish line and achieving a personal best time, that image will be something that will be forever etched in my mind. At the finish there were tasty snacks, a medal and free beer for all albiet alcohol vacant. Being it German in origin though it still actually tasted quite good.

At the after party that night, I had the chance to meet and mingle with some of the locals to discuss post race tales and sore limbs. The dance floor was busy, everyone looked pleased and there were re-runs of the days events playing on numerous TV screens around the venue. It seemed that there was a lot of pride and sense of achievement meandering through the walls and I was proud to have played a small part in it.



The next few days I turned from runner to tourist, walking endlessly but never aimlessly. I`m quite good at doing the`city walk`. While it`s nice and convinient to use the machines to get around, as anyone in the city savvy cluster knows, you can miss alot of interesting things. I took a trip out to the Olympia stadian built in 1916 and used for hosting both sports events (infamously the 1936 Olympics where by American Jessie Owens won four gold medals) and the setting used for propaganda purposes by the Nazis (Adolf Hitler opened the said 1936 games) Despite a recent renovation, the structure still marks its territory. On exiting from the station, a long road which could easily double as a runway to the looming two tower entrance is a sight to behold in itself. While it`s doubtful that a 747 would be able to gather enough speed to as even scrape the top, the abundance of tarmac provides great space for a motorbike speedway or learner drivers to practice without fear. The stadium itself is impressive and the architecural glory of yesteryear still shines through. It was fairly quiet when I visited, which the gave the area a strange still atmosphere. Coupled with the haunting looking bell tower to the rear (The Nazis stored a lot of film footage here) with its prying eye watching over me, I felt like the hunted for a brief period of time.

Carrying on with the tourist theme, the next day I decided to take a Third Reich group tour of the city, taking in some chilling reminders and memories of Nazi Berlin. We took in the site and might of the former Luftwaffe headquarters passing numerous bullet holed buildings and memorials including the symmetrical jewish stones on the way. Just around the corner, there is what`s left of the former Gestapo building, the former residence of the Nazi secret police. Like a haunted house on the hill, it looks out of place in the urban jungle surroundings, standing alone as if enveloped by a magnetic field, unpenetrable, unwelcoming, yet refusing to step down. There is also a large part of the wall still intact that escalates outwards from the side of the building like a giant mechanical arm. The authorities are in the process of setting up a new exhibition within the grounds but for the moment there is an outdoor gallery entitled`The topography of terror`containing some interesting but graphic pictures and text relating to the rise of Nazis, general life during the war in Germany and`The final solution`. We visited the site of Hitlers` fomer bunker but there is not much to see, although somewhere underground further than the eye dare rove there probably is. The only real example left of the Hitler`footprint`is in a station nearby where they have used some of the marble that was once used in the fuhrers office.



The next few days were spent meeting up with friends and sampling the city nightlife and gastronomic offerings. One particular area I liked was around Friedrichstasse. Located right by the river and offering great views of the city, especially at dusk, it contained a hefty, vibrant mixture of smells and human sounds. Along the river bank lay an abundance of outdoor cafes, restaurants and bars. Quite the place to be on a weekend I thought. There is also an area around Orianburger strasse which is worth a mention, with its tree lined streets offering cocktails abound, alfresco activities, rawkus youthful atmosphere and the `fraulines of the night`. Both the said areas lie in the vicinity known as`the mitte` (centre) of town. You can`t pay a price on local knowledge so it was good one evening to meet up with a friend and his significant other who just happened to originate from Berlin. We started off in the trendy, leafy area of Prenzlauerberg with its bohemian, laid back feel. Littered with many bars and small eateries, this area is both popular with students and professionals alike so some tough choices had to be made. Luckily being in the hands of a native proved its worth as the outstretched white sign with name`zumir oder zudir`beckoned us in. A nice 80s/retro bar was the setting with equally retro but comfy armchairs. With some lounge music playing in the background, it was a nice step back in time and a good place to start a lengthy night out in Berlin. After heading into the `stadmitte` which is basically one of the main shopping districts in the centre of town. I had the opportunity to sample a local delicacy which is the Berliner meatballs. I can`t remember the name of the restaurant but the internal offerings were good and the large ( 2 litre ) beer servings assisted greatly, although slightly painful for the arms. After leaving the food establishment feeling rather bloated, a brisk walk to aid food combustion was required whereby we headed back to Prenzlauerberg to see how the Germans do cocktails...



The nightlife in Berlin is, how can I put it, plentiful. Whatever you want, whenever you want, you`re bound to find it as the choices are endless. There is a big`alternative`scene as well as the usual standard club fare. Nothing really shocks here, so just`be`. The city is well known for championing Techno, House and electronic music in all its forms, you hear it being played everywhere. It`s acknowledged by the locals for playing an important cultural role and has left a long lasting legacy which is known throughout the world. It`s true that many people visit just to sample the nightlife in all its wierd and wonderful guises.

For my last night in Berlin, I had the pleasure of seeing the infamous Jeff Mills step out of his spaceship straight from`Planet Axis`( Axis is the name of his record label ) and perform at a club called`Tresor`. The word`Tresor`means`safe`or`vault`. The club used to host its nights in the basement of a disused bank near the Potsdamer Platz. It was one of those clubs I`d heard about whilst growing up and had always wanted to attend. Now was my chance. Despite moving location to a rather immense disused power station, the dark, dingy interior and the new makeshift`vault`, found by exciting a creepy winding tunnel, gave an impression of what it must have been like`back in the day`. It`s always a honour to see herr Mills live. He doesn`t even call himself a DJ, more of a medium or storyteller, using music to paint a picture, taking the soul on an intergalactic aural journey. He is hugely respected here and this was evident by the crowd in attendance, with one fellow asking me if he was indeed witnessing `the wizard` unleashing his wand to take action (This was his DJ name back in the 80s). His new show entitled`The sleeper wakes` started off with the first hour or so of pure soundtrack music to set the tone and mood. A gradual build up then progressed, climbing to a peak of dancefloor madness. He didn`t even stand behind the turntables as a normal DJ would, he actually kneeled on the stage for the duration, with only a flimsy pillow for comfort.The equipment and array of light surrounded him like an electronic ambush, perhaps waiting to spar with him just like a martial artist. I never made it to the end, my time was up a while before. The past week had finally caught up with me. Perhaps Jeff had decided to take a few people with him on his sonic fuelled flying carpet. Hopefully he would have dropped them off in time for work on Monday morning...but then again...

Mixing for England

No, I don`t mean baking a cake! I`m just finishing off my EP at the moment. It has been very time consuming and I have become somewhat of hermit of late, hopefully my family haven`t thought I`ve disappeared of the face of the Earth!

That`s the only issue with making music, as much as it`s enjoyable and creative it`s very insular and the days just seem to fly by when I`m in the studio, feel like it`s just me and the machine.On the other hand it`s so addictive and it is really exciting when you start creating something nice and start to hear what could sound like a decent piece of music! I just need to keep going, hopefully it will all be worthwhile in the end, it was one of my goals to release my own material so just got to keep on that treadmill, I`ll then give myself some time off, perhaps socialize or even try and meet a nice lady. I feel like giving up sometimes, yet there is something inside just about keeping the flame alight.

On the subject of mixing, I have been getting into cooking alot lately and will have to get round to buying a table so I can finally do a bit of entertaining and actually unleash my culinary skills on someone! I find it really enjoyable and there is nothing like a good quality cooked meal with a nice glass of wine or two to wash it down. Downloaded a really neat iphone app from Mr Oliver which has proved to be rather nifty, shopping lists have never been such fun!

I`ve started watching some films again as I`m really behind lately. I used to be a film buff, being in the creative field I have utmost respect and admiration for the big screen and all it`s organs. Often thought about venturing into the world of thespianism or something in that vein. I had the pleasure of watching the new Quentin Tarantino flick `Inglorious basterds` the other night. I`m a fan of his movies and like his style. I will give a full diagnosis of what I thought about it in my next post. Ranns reviews!

I`ve also got a rather large pile of reading material just waiting to be visually and mentally consumed, perhaps I`ll review those if I ever get round to finishing them. There just doesn`t seem to be enough time in this world, not even on my planet!

The Running Man

Didn`t i just say I wasn`t going to talk about music? Last year I released my first EP entitled `The Running man`. It`s a bit of play on my surname ( as all forthcoming releases will be ) but the other reason is that I am a running man. I don my trainers on a regular basis, wear some cool running gear, have been socially accepted, ok just accepted into a local club, have competed and actually finished races, won medals and try to pretend I`m Steve Cram whilst getting chased by a pack of dogs or sometimes Deer!!

Oh the joys of running, as much as it`s changed my life, there is nothing more irritating than something trying to knaw at your leg or tailgate you while your trying to give everyone the impression that you`re seriously training for the next olympics.

We have a real mindset between us runners, we always say hello or display a respectful nod to our fellow legmen ( or women ) We know the score man, peace love and injuries, reminds me of when I had a Beetle and used to wave and flash headlights at fellow Beetle drivers as a mark of respect for being on the same wavelength.The reality was, we just happened to own the same car but it would never have worked with a ford Capri.

The painful picture of me above is yours truly just about to finish my first half marathon last year.Can you see the elation or rather relief on my face of hitting that finish, nothing quite like it though and a mars bar never tasted so good. I`m sure the ladies will be flocking......the opposite way.

My first post coming straight from planet Rann

Welcome to my blog page everybody, hope you enjoy your stay and appeciate what I say and rant about in my world.

As a music producer, label owner and DJ, I spend alot of time on the usual networking sites promoting and playing the rockstar ( or at least trying - need more groupies please ) I also find time to work for a large Airline which entails working all wierd and wonderful hours while getting `abuse` from all sides! I`m certainly no nine to fiver and am not too familiar with weekends! As a good friend once said to me `Time is the enemy!`

With that statement in mind, I thought about wasting more time when I should be doing something less boring instead and use this blog as a break from the music routine and use it to share my thoughts, experiences and adventures out of the studio ( I do get out sometimes, well, I have to go to work ) and off the wheels of steel ( I`m getting all Tim Westwood on you now too ) Music is a big part of my life so I will have some comments and announcements to make now and then. This is a chance however for me to expose another side of Rannland, there are many continents to explore but we have all the time in the world! It`s good to get things off your chest sometimes and I don`t mean hair unless you`re the `shaving` type!