• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to secondary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

Mo Fanning - British writer and comic

  • Home
  • My Books
    • The Armchair Bride
    • Rebuilding Alexandra Small
    • This is (not) America
    • Five Gold Rings
    • Talking out loud
  • About Mo Fanning
    • Mailing List
    • Support my writing
  • BLOG
  • BUY SIGNED COPIES

Germany

A RIPE Meeting diary

May 30, 2008 by Mo Fanning Leave a Comment

Information Overload by Mo FanningEvery now and then, my job takes me away from home for a week at a time. They put me up in fine hotels and pay for my food and drink. It sounds terribly glamorous and like I’m getting a bit full of myself. Trust me, it’s nothing to shout about. But, it would seem like a perfectly good subject to write home about – or blog. So here we go.

This time, I’m in Berlin. A city filled with many things that are symbols of the futility etc of war, though everyone seems to go out of their way to ever mention it. Contractual obligations forbid me naming the meeting, but suffice it to say, it is technical in nature and attracts the sort of people usually to be found lurking behind an open server panel. Yep, home of the geeks.

I’ll be blogging as often as time permits, usually early morning when I’m half awake, so forgive the sentence structure and lack of salient thought.

MONDAY

I slept like a rock, unfortunately a rock rolling down a very steep hill – in a very warm room. The airco taunted me, ‘your room is 26 degrees,’ it laughed, ‘now try turning it down and I’ll make it even warmer.’ I eventually tried opening the window. As I’m on the third floor, it’s partially welded shut, allowing half an inch of fresh air. Enough to let in the full effect of the main road below my window. So not only was I hot and sticky, but every time I was in danger of nodding off, I’d be awoken by a police siren or a bunch of Irish girls on a hen night, singing their way home.

Today is a busy day, we’ll see how I cope. But let’s go back a few steps and talk about my journey here. I’m just about over the trauma, though not sure I’ll ever feel clean again.

Of course, I didn’t get my requested seat near the power point, in fact I was as far away from it as it was possible to get. I’ve come to expect this though, so no biggie. I need not have worried though, for entertainment was on hand in the shape of two new-agey German types who shared my cabin. At first, I took them to be two average everyday Joes, no outward signs of fuckwittery, no wind chimes, no scent of patchouli oil, nothing. But within seconds, she had her shoes off and was sitting cross-legged on the seat chanting. I put my iPOD on and flicked through HEAT. Next time I looked up, he had his shirt half way up his back and she was giving him a back massage. He let out moans I can only describe as sensual,

I paused the music and listened as she ‘whispered’ sweet nuthens into his ears. It was probably her accent and the fact I’d already taken agin them, but it sounded like she was suggesting they combine their powers and annex Poland..

The massage over, they continued to fondle each other, eventually breaking open lunch and feeding each other strawberries until we reached Hilversum (only the first stop, only twenty minutes along, it felt like an age), when a cheery Dutch family joined us and put paid to their shenanigans.

Today, I’ve stuffed my face with a selection of fresh fruit and toast in preparation for the morning where I’ve schmoozed the crowd with the best of them, bagging myself two meeting virgins and interrogating them about what they thought of the meeting. One of them slinked away and hid behind a coat stand.

Lunch today was a massive step up from the crud in undermined sauce offered for our last overseas meeting in Tallinn. I bagged another ‘newbie’ and made him talk to me throughout the meal. He eventually made an excuse about needing to make phone calls. Tonight we’re off to the Zoo to look at Hippos and sip sparkling wine … more later.

TUESDAY

Photo of a hippo

It’s official, I like Hippos. I don’t care if they’re one of the grumpiest and scariest creatures on earth, prone to maul and play with their prey rather than outright kill it – then again don’t cats do that with mice/birds/spiders? And you never hear of them getting such bad press.

Went to a drinks reception at the local zoo where feeding time in the Hippo enclosure was the highlight. Now I know on paper (or screen) this probably isn’t setting anyone on fire, but you had to be there. Good food, lots of beer, entertaining lumbering beasts with halitosis and dreadful table manners (and that was just the people, ba-da-boom). On from there to another ‘welcome reception’ and then a probably ill-thought-out few drinks in the hotel bar – staying there until the lights came on and we were ushered off into the night. ‘You’ve got work tomorrow, off you go,‘ said the solitary barman sent to shoo us away. There was talk of finding somewhere else to drink. Thankfully my survival instincts kicked in and autopilot put me to bed.Another photo of a hippo

So that was last night, this is today. Plus ca change. More of the same and probably not what anyone wants to read about, so let’s get to the more interesting stuff. Lunch. Tried sitting at a big round table with geeks to chat – or ‘mingle’ as we in the trade call it. They refused to talk to me or my colleague and huddled in closer, whispering things about parallel networks (see boys, I could hear!). Food was uninspiring, tending to look far better than it tasted. But me and colleague agreed on one thing, the apple juice was nice. Well two actually if you count the fact that geek boys don’t do talking to girls or gays very well.

Skipped the big party on the 20th floor of an office block with dancing until 2am, as I know my self control is shocking and I’d have been there until the bitter end. I’m up on the microphone today for an hour or two, so I’d rather be in good nick. Fell asleep at eleven without even catching up on Eastenders. Will Pat live? Now I’ll not know for a night or two. I’m putting money on her wobbling back to this mortal coil though. (note for people with a life, Eastenders is a UK soap opera).

Today’s general whine, the room is still too hot and I’m getting ticked off with the constant tapping at the door to turn down my bed/service my mini bar/offer me fresh towels (what do they imagine I’m doing in here with them?). Woke up today with skin like the Singing Detective thanks to the air co, that seems unable to cool the room, but make a top notch job of sucking every droplet of moisture from the air. OK, I’m done, more soon.

WEDNESDAY

I’m up and moving, had an early breakfast, not a single delegate in sight. Two Americans in software vendor baseball caps being v. annoying though. Chatting to everyone in loud voices, trying to engage clearly disinterested cooking staff in banter. Think one of them told him to fuck off in German with a grin on face to hide what she was saying. I like her, she’s my favourite staff member. I wonder if they do one of those shitty ‘help us select the best employee’ schemes here?

So Wednesday came and went, a busy day all round, then it was time for the evening social. BBQ and Cocktails. Both of which were entirely great. Though the BBQ failed to feel authentic, because although all of the people cooking were men – with women scurrying around doing all the hard work – there wasn’t a piece of blood-oozing undercooked chicken to be found and no sausages dropped on the floor. I snuck off just after nine (and three big fruity cocktails) to have a bath and early night.

This bath thing is becoming a bit of a compulsion. Not having one at home, whenever I get away to a place with one, it’s hard to get me out. I’m aiming at four or five a day, which I know would have my mother throwing her hands up in horror and muttering nonsense about washing all of the oils out of my skin or something.

Slept like a baby, having realised it’s the rubber sheets on the beds that are causing me the most discomfort. It’s a five fucking star hotel, why are there rubber sheets? I was given a tip to put a duvet under me and one over me, then create a nest of pillows. It works, Susannah Gray is officially my hero.

THURSDAY

It was another day of talking technical with people who most likely thought I knew what they were on about, but I suppose my last lunch at the Hotel Palace is of far more interest to you, dear reader. All I know is that there was salmon, lots of it. I possibly overloaded on it and am helping keep some small fishery in business single-handed. Considering that a year or two ago I used to give it a wide birth after overdosing in my youth, I probably ought to calm it for a while.

The day dragged on, I did some shopping and noted that German men have far less inhibitions when it comes to trying on clothes. I spotted several just whipping their shirts off and trying stuff on in the middle of stores. In some cases, this wasn’t wise, but in others – well, you can’t help but look, now can you?

The evening came and the infamous RIPE Dinner, about which, I can say very little. Mainly on the grounds I was banjoed on champagne and decent white wine – I suspect salmon was consumed in much quantity (it’s just soooo Berlin) and I have the horrible feeling there was dancing. Never wise considering I look like a weeble when dragged onto any dance floor. Given I had a broken toe which is now black and blue, I think it happened.

and home on Friday, not a minute too soon, to sleep, sleep, sleep. Until the next time.

Oh and I think I shared the train with someone big in Dutch showbiz – 60 years old, skin like badly crumpled orange leather, sixteen year old nymphet on his shoulder, barely able to spell her own name. He kept gurning at people as they got on in that ‘you know who I am, don’t you?’ way. Sadly though, ‘Big in Dutch Showbiz’ doesn’t cut it with me. He kept trying to watch Lily Savage over my shoulder on my laptop.

Filed Under: Diary, Travel Tagged With: Berlin, Drinking, Food, Geeks, Germany, Hotels, The Dutch

Oberhausen – it has it ALL

December 15, 2007 by Mo Fanning Leave a Comment

Christmas with Mo FanningOberhausen is twinned with Middlesbrough. And before venturing there, that was the sum total of my knowledge.

But in December, I had the dubious pleasure of being invited along on a day out to a typical German Christmas market. I didn’t take much persuading, someone explained Glühwein, assured me it was nothing like the shocking atrocity we Brits call mulled wine and I was sold.

And why Oberhausen? Why not Cologne or Düsseldorf? Well in truth, it’s close to Amsterdam, just over an hour and a half. So with the weathermen predicting freezing rain off I set.

I met my fellow intrepid travellers at the ungodly hour of 07.50 in the wind tunnel that is Amsterdam central station, boarded the appropriately named ICE train and set off through the countryside through picturesque towns. After a while it all started to get a bit industrial, then a bit more industrial and then very industrial indeed, even the air was gray. And then the train stopped. We’d hit steel town.Photo of Oberhausen Gas Tower

Oberhausen has a tourist office, manned by polite though understandably embarrassed ladies who did their best to talk up their town’s main attraction – a disused gas silo. They even let us hold the surprisingly heavy cast iron models of the silo that they sold to passing day trippers. How we all laughed. They pointed us at a tram stop and handed out maps.

The place where it’s all at is a Teutonic Bluewater. A shopping centre surrounded by what looked like abandoned garden sheds. It was barely 10am, the good folk of Oberhausen were still in their beds, so we went in search of coffee and cake, settling instead for chicken soup and apple strudel at the Café Zurich. After an hour or so of aimless milling around the mall to stave off indigestion, it was time to get the full Weihnachtsmarkt Experience.

Stall after stall of the sort of seasonal tat your mother used to give to jumble sales mingled with places offering Glühwein and the type of huge sausages that only a German woman can eat without eliciting smutty comments. It took us around five minutes to give up on ‘World of Fudge’ and huddle under a makeshift shelter guzzling our first mug of hot wine.

After a second round of nog, spirits lifted. We all merrily admitted the place was a shit hole populated by web-footed, six-fingered inbred trolls.

It was time for lunch.

After eyeing up the variety of places on offer – you can eat your way around the world in Oberhausen – we settled on a Bavarian restraint, where men and women in lederhosen and frilly blouses bobbed efficiently between tables. The menu was simple, meat with meat and sauerkraut and meat. For the non meat eaters, there was sauerkraut without the meat. It was a monument to gout.

Eventually with heavy hearts, we bid farewell to Oberhausen to board the train back to Amsterdam.

All in all, we had a great day though. Once you revise your expectations and start to see the funny side of things, hell you can have fun in a cardboard box with a piece of straw.

As a celebration, here is my seasonal recipe for Glühwein – not one little bit like mulled wine, which we all know is wrong anyway – highly recommended.

1 bottle red wine
3 tbs sugar (more or less according to taste)
1 mug of water
1 lemon sliced
1 orange sliced
Juice of 1 orange
3 cloves
1 cinnamon stick

Heat the ingredients together in a pan, never letting them boil, keep on a low heat for an hour to allow the flavours to infuse, then strain and serve. Keep what you haven’t drunk hot for later.

Filed Under: Diary Tagged With: Christmas, Drunk, Food, Germany

Berlin baby

February 16, 2007 by Mo Fanning Leave a Comment

Writing and reading - Mo FanningThere’s a reason why Berlin hotels offer attractive room rates in January and February. Nobody wants to go. It’s cold. Colder than anywhere you’ve ever been. Think about how cold that is, then make it colder.

Did that stop me and my beloved from booking a fancy schmanzy hotel and first class travel to the once divided German capital? “We’ll wrap up warm,” I said. Prices like this are too good to miss.

On a Friday morning at the start of February, we boarded the aptly named ICE train at Amsterdam Central. Fellow passengers wore the sorts of fur-lined coats, hats and boots favoured by Cossacks and those used to sub-Arctic conditions. It was the first hint we might have it wrong.

Six hours later, Berlin’s Hauptbahnhof loomed. Thrilled by the architecture, we rushed into the open air. Iconic buildings everywhere. OK, it was a tad chilly – bone-numbingly cold, in fact. But what the heck, we’d get a nice warm taxi to our nice warm hotel then find a nice warm bar for dinner and a few beers.

But back to the main event. I can’t stress enough.

It was cold.

On our first evening, searching for somewhere, anywhere to eat, we walked miles. “Please can we go in somewhere, anywhere,” I begged, as all feeling below the waist vanished. Eventually, we did what all good culture vultures do when in Germany. We ate Greek. I fought back the start of a sniffle.

Our cunning plan to beat over-enthusiastic central heating by opening a window, left our room feeling like a fridge. I ran a hot bath. I got into the hot bath. I noticed the bathroom floor was two inches under water – as was our room. I heard loud explosion of travel iron fusing entire wing of hotel followed by angry hammering on door.

We were moved to a room that had all the charm of a wrestler’s spittoon. ‘It’s the only room left,’ snapped the fräulein on reception, who was already miffed at having to deal with a queue of disgruntled guests. Guests who found themselves without water or electricity. They knew whose fault it was, she’d told them.

The next morning at breakfast, conversation stopped as we walked in. People nudged each other and muttered in the hotel lobby. In shops, I’m certain fingers were pointed. I swear a woman in a Cossack Hat said, ‘That’s the pair who fused half the lights in the city.’

And it was still cold.

By Sunday morning, a sniffle gave way to flu. Not man flu. The real thing – throwing up, shivering, aching all over, unable to get out of bed flu. ‘Rooms must be vacated by ten,’ insisted reception. The implication being that their pet Alsatians wanted their beds back.

The train journey back was miserable. The carriage was like a mobile chest clinic, with fellow travellers coughing and wheezing and groaning into Amsterdam, where I took to my bed and vowed to never again book anything that seemed too good to miss.

Filed Under: Diary, Travel Tagged With: Berlin, Germany, Hotels, Travel, Weather

Primary Sidebar

About Mo Fanning

Mo Fanning (@mofanning) tells jokes on a stage and writes commercial fiction. He’s the bestselling author of The Armchair Bride and Rebuilding Alexandra Small. Mo makes fabulous tea – milk in last – and is a Society of Authors member and cancer bore.

Join my mailing list

When you join my mailing list, you’ll get the inside scoop on all of my new books. You can find out about every book I publish as soon as it’s released and has made its way to Amazon and other online retailers.

By subscribing, you agree with Revue’s Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.

Follow me on Twitter

My Tweets

Secondary Sidebar

Rebuilding Alexandra Small by Mo Fanning
The Armchair Bride by Mo Fanning
this is (not) america
Five Gold Rings by Mo Fanning
Talking Out Loud by Mo Fanning
Society of authors member

Footer

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • YouTube
  • Instagram

All content copyright Mo Fanning

  • Books by Mo Fanning
I use cookies on my website to give you the most relevant experience by remembering your preferences and repeat visits. By clicking “Accept”, you consent to the use of ALL the cookies.
Cookie settingsACCEPT
Manage consent

Privacy Overview

This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary
Always Enabled
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. These cookies ensure basic functionalities and security features of the website, anonymously.
CookieDurationDescription
cookielawinfo-checbox-analytics11 monthsThis cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Analytics".
cookielawinfo-checbox-functional11 monthsThe cookie is set by GDPR cookie consent to record the user consent for the cookies in the category "Functional".
cookielawinfo-checbox-others11 monthsThis cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Other.
cookielawinfo-checkbox-necessary11 monthsThis cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookies is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Necessary".
cookielawinfo-checkbox-performance11 monthsThis cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Performance".
viewed_cookie_policy11 monthsThe cookie is set by the GDPR Cookie Consent plugin and is used to store whether or not user has consented to the use of cookies. It does not store any personal data.
Functional
Functional cookies help to perform certain functionalities like sharing the content of the website on social media platforms, collect feedbacks, and other third-party features.
Performance
Performance cookies are used to understand and analyze the key performance indexes of the website which helps in delivering a better user experience for the visitors.
Analytics
Analytical cookies are used to understand how visitors interact with the website. These cookies help provide information on metrics the number of visitors, bounce rate, traffic source, etc.
Advertisement
Advertisement cookies are used to provide visitors with relevant ads and marketing campaigns. These cookies track visitors across websites and collect information to provide customized ads.
Others
Other uncategorized cookies are those that are being analyzed and have not been classified into a category as yet.
SAVE & ACCEPT