Greetings followers,
Scandinavia and the Czech Republic - tick! That’s right, Sweden, Denmark and the Czech Republic are currently erecting giant monuments to me as we speak. But, just prior to informing you all about the newest colonies in Stephanie-Land, I want to talk to you about an internal threat to the countries that have already joined the Stephanie Union (like the European Union but blonder).
Wasps.
No, not White Anglo-Saxon Protestants, but the actual flying stinging things. They have taken over Berlin, and from what I can tell, the rest of Europe in a way that makes those locusts look like they merely got confused for a second on holiday and then went along their merry way. Seriously, think nine wasps in my apfelschorler at one brunch (for those of you who haven’t received the press statement about the official drink of our kingdom, apfelschorler is half apple juice, half soda water, and is AMAZING! I’m not sure why we didn’t think of it earlier. Good work Germany. This will be the key contribution from Germany to the kingdom. That and an obsessive following of rules. This organization will not tolerate insolence). I have also witnessed the wasps here eating meat, egg and, I have heard rumours, they will even attempt a decent crack at small dogs. Constant vigilance against these attackers is key.
I had thought maybe they were only going for the Berlin I had claimed just a few months earlier, until I went to conquer Prague and a blatant attempt was made on my life by a wasp. One cheeky beggar flew into my eye. MY EYE. Seriously, it was near catastrophic. I was hopping around singing “that thing bounced off my eye! It hit my freaking eyeball! Are you kidding me?!” when Dave, not to be upstaged, got hit by a car.
It’s okay, it turned out not to be serious in the end. No damage was done, injury was minimal. We all left unscathed because it didn’t even sting me. Just flew in there and bounced off a little. Dave was of course, no help, trying to collect himself with a Mercedes, but the fear was real for a little while. I have never seen an enemy up quite that close before. I was of course, forced to deal with the fallout myself while Dave looked at the driver of the man who backed into him, and I even managed to interlude and shout a profanity or two at his careless driving skills while simultaneously recovering from the shock that an actual flying stinging machine had been in my eyeball (THAT’s what you call multi-tasking team), but this attempted coup was poorly organized, much like Hitler’s failed Beerhall Putsch of 1923, and the threat was over before it really even began.
No in all seriousness, Dave was fine too thank goodness. The idiot drove up the road, Dave went to cross, then he abruptly reversed without looking. I was no help at all, watching it all happen (out of one eye) in slow motion, yet only able to yelp something like “Mwgherasdaaaa!” before impact, but luckily he was going slowly and Dave just looked at him and walked away. The driver didn’t quite escape my vicious tongue so easily, but thankfully Dave was okay, and for the rest of his stay in Europe we would occasionally look at each other and say “hey, remember that time you/ I got hit by a car in Prague?”
Prague, FYI, was AMAZING and everything I dreamed it would be. It is a proud jewel in the crown of my empire. We took a walking tour with my new deputy in Prague, Isaac, who was hilarious. I laughed solidly for three and half hours, and thought that after my time here in Berlin I wasn’t easily shocked anymore, but still managed a sharp inward gasp when Isaac dropped the f bomb in a church (that’s the word f*ck for those of you who don’t understand subtlety) and then proceeded to deny doing so. Haha.
Also saw the Prague castle, went to a beer garden that overlooks the city, and even managed a bit of a pub crawl. We didn’t complete the pub crawl because I was slightly under the weather from a self-inflicted illness… Oh man, I guess I had better fess up and tell the whole story…
The night before we went to Prague (at 6:30am - ouch) I had been working in the bar. It was Twig and Sara’s 10th wedding anniversary so we decided that a few civilized after work drinks were in order. Next thing I knew I had drunk absinthe (legal here in Berlin), it was 5am and we were trying to get into a club, except had just realized Twig had no shoes on, so I tried to give him my sneakers (which were at least eight sizes too small) convinced that my ankle socks could pass for shoes as they sort of looked like ballet slippers. Then I had an out of body experience, realized I was marmeladed and I had to catch a train in 90 minutes, so I guess it is about that time I went home. I’m not sure because the next thing I remember is waking up abruptly on the train somewhere near Dresden, looking at Dave and having this conversation…
“Dave, oh my goodness, I think I’m still drunk.”
“Yep, probably.”
“Did I pack?!?”
“Think so. You have a suitcase here.”
“Did I pack clothes?!”
“No idea.”
“Did I pack underwear?!”
“No idea.”
“Did I pack my toothbrush?!”
“No idea. All I know is you brought your hair curler.”
The fear of finally unpacking when we got to our hotel in Prague left me with held breath, but I was pleasantly astounded to discover I had actually done a pretty amazing job of it. Dave was more than a little jealous that I had packed better than him. Unpacking my little suitcase and seeing what I had was like a mini Christmas, and there were many exclamations in similar vein to “Aw yeah! Shorts!” I was well pleased. Perhaps I’ll always pack while I’m blind drunk.
So Prague went swimmingly, and I even managed to catch up with my friends Alice and Dave while we were there! It was so awesome to see some more friendly faces from home, and to catch up on all the gossip from you guys in the media industry (tut tut some of you - haha, just kidding. Kind of…)
The next stop in the Dave and Stephanie adventure was a quick two day trip with Tom and his friend Adam to Nuremberg to see where Hitler had held his political rallies, and I have to say, this was one of the places that has affected me the most. I’m still not sure why. I spend my life going to Hitler’s bunker, Sachsenhausen concentration camp, the old SS and Gestapo headquarters, the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe etc, and although they all still affect me in one way or another, Nuremberg made me so angry. I actually almost threw my audio guide four stories off a building. It wasn’t that I was getting any brand new information, it just really upset me. There was really only one cure for it.
Robots.
Wow, tenuous segue there Stephanie. The next day the four of us jumped back in the Volvo (being the only girl I refused to call it by the nickname the boys had given it. I’m sure you can guess) and headed to the Volkswagen museum which was AWESOME. My second car museum here in Germany and they have both been amazing. We took a tour of the factory and got to see robots building Golfs! Now I want a Golf. And a robot…
To round out Dave’s Stephanie section of his European adventure (I politely didn’t point out that soon it will be impossible to do a non-Stephanie section due to the fact IT WILL ALL BE STEPHANIE SECTIONS! Mwah ha ha) we made a trip to Stockholm and then a pilgrimage for Dave to Denmark by visiting Copenhagen. One of the other guides said to me before we set out, “Ooh, Stockholm and Copenhagen. Ouch. Hope you saved every cent you earned guiding this summer.” I rolled my eyes at the time. The same eyes which only a few days later would pop out of their sockets when I saw the prices in those two cities. I did actually seriously consider giving up eating for the time we were there, and that smug guide had the last laugh. I really did spend every cent. To give you a very brief rundown of what we saw (including of course, all the ridiculously beautiful people), I will revert to trusty bullet point fashion:
- the pirate ship that we stayed on in Stockholm - whoop whoop! Thanks Kirsty, yaaaar.
- the royal palace in Stockholm (way better than Windsor Castle, sorry Lizzy).
- the Vasa (I’m a Viking! YAY!).
- the Nobel museum (I’m going to win one of those. I cried three times in the museum. And if none of you think I am talented enough to get one, I don’t care. Remember team, soon-to-be leader of the “free” world. I’ll make my own damn Nobel prize, and anyone who protests doesn‘t get invited to the dinner).
- the really tall Church of Our Saviour in Copenhagen that Dave and I climbed the outside of (an inopportune time for Dave to discover a newfound discomfort with heights)
- the Little Mermaid!
- Tivoli (this should really get it’s own paragraph, but I’m busy and important, so in quick-fire fact form; oldest amusement park in the world, fastest ride in Europe hitting 5G, icecream so big I almost vommed, riding the rollercoaster four times, seriously romantic. So romantic Dave and I looked at each other a little uncomfortably until the silence was broken with “let’s go ride that giant freefall thing again!”)
- Shopping in the old Latin Quarter
- Sitting on the canals in Nyhavn
- Infiltrating a hippy commune (with my Fendi sunglasses and pink digital camera, haha)
- Meeting this guy who at first just seemed a bit weird, then turned out to be a neo-Nazi. Seriously. I was so disgusted I got up and stormed off. I think he was probably just more ignorant than really pro-Nazi, but I still wanted nothing more to do with him.
Dave and I then headed to London, where I was interrogated even more than I was the last time. Seriously, every time I fly back into that place they spend longer throwing questions at me at passport control. “Oh hi Dave, welcome to your first visit to London. You want to live here for five years? No dramas, have fun!” [Stamp.] Turns to me. Eyes narrow. “Stephanie. You’re back. You want to spend three days here? Why. What are you doing in London. What are you doing in Berlin. When did you leave New Zealand. When are you going back. What is your occupation. Do you have a boyfriend. Do you like Berlin. What is your mother’s favourite colour. Have you seen Grease. Did you enjoy the sequel” etc. She spent SO LONG that we missed the train and I didn’t get to Toni’s house until 3am. Then I got the same treatment when I came back to Berlin. Every time I leave or come back into this country I get interrogated a little bit more. But my time will come. Oh yes, my time will come. These customs officials’ names are on the list, and I will get my sweet revenge when they want to visit their mothers in Bristol and find themselves in the cold barren landscape that is ANTARTICA! Mwah ha ha. “Oh no, go to gate 23. Yeah, gate 23 is totally Bristol. Promise. Have fun!”
Sooo, London was awesome, as per, and seemed scarily cheap after the pricing fiasco that is Stockholm and Copenhagen. Got to see my beloved Toni, went to my first live football game (scary!), strolled around the Thames Festival, and even managed to sit in Hyde Park and do some writing. Wrote a poem too, which I haven’t done in years. It will probably only make sense to my happy band of Berlin orphans, but anyone who wants to read “Crying on the S-Bahn,” give me a holler.
Just before I quickly wrap this up and go back to my secret underground lair to figure out ocean currents (none of you need know why yet, unless I have got any takers for a dangerous yet rewarding mission to search out the magical properties of the mythical seaweed people), a very quick update on one of the many reasons I LOVE Berlin! This year, I have managed to see three of my favourite musical acts - Ben Harper, up close (amazing), Pearl Jam, up close but then pleasantly enjoyed from afar because one thing will remain universal across all geographical barriers - ‘90s rock fans are MENTAL (Pearl Jam also incredible), and then completely randomly, Jet. On Saturday, Tali (still my beacon of Berlin happiness - I’m going to set up a Tali cloning programme so that every city in the world will have at least one Tali for sad and confused new migrants) told me she had FREE tickets to Jet, so on Sunday I got to see them in the same tiny arena that Ben Harper was in. Right at the front of the crowd with plenty of personal space. I love this city! Apparently Fat Freddies Drop played here last week, and I sadly missed that bit of home, but the Black Seeds are due to be here pretty soon so I’ll get my taste of Kiwi music that way! Hurrah!
To entice you into reading what will be coming up in the next instalments, details of my impending visits to Barcelona and Athens, and more detailed information on how I visited the Pergamon museum here in Berlin a little while ago, which seriously is the best museum in the entire world (having been to all of them, clearly), but without the foresight of clearing my memory card. Oops. I had to delete pictures from the real Pergamon in Turkey to take pictures of the Pergamon museum in Berlin. I suspect that might be the new definition of ironic. Or possibly stupidity. I’m guessing it will cost me more than the five Euro Pergamon museum admission price to get back to the real Pergamon.
Hope you’re all well, safe, happy and healthy. You’ll need your health for the fun team-bonding exercises I have planned for us all upon imminent domination completion.
You’re glorious leader,
Stephanie the Wasp Conquerer
P.S. The other day, Tilda Swinton (that weird looking yet Oscar-winning actress) listened in on my tour at Checkpoint Charlie! She even did the “huh. Wow” head nod, although I guess it might have been more at the information I was imparting than my ravishing good looks. Maybe. However, having never seen a single film she has been in, I can now safely say that an Oscar winner has seen more of my work than I have of hers. Ha! And now I will never, ever be able to watch one of her films because that’s a fun thing to be able to say and I don’t want to ruin it.
