Today’s update starts with a personal message: Hello, staff of the hotel I’m staying in.

They must be reading: it’s the only explanation for the changes since yesterday. A blackboard in the restaurant now advertises a range of breakfast options from €7-12, the chef has learned how to make scrambled egg and the coffee machine now fills the cup. Literally fills the cup. I was having to hit buttons to stop it, and my cup overflowed.

It’s a fine start to the day. I strode from the hotel, ready and willing to face Berlin in all its fine thundery glory.

I hadn’t however even left the hotel before the day’s first surprise arrived. Low water pressure, maybe no water at all in the area. At least, that’s what the SMS from Severn Trent told me, and they are the experts. But why are they worrying about the water in Berlin?

Barely out of the hotel I walked past a teenager, his dark skin strongly suggesting his family moved here since the 40s, who looked at me and in a thick German accent went, “It’s coming home” and walked on down the street. I guess my cheap t-shirt from Tesco stands out.

I was back on the same tour network as yesterday, but a different bus. As I was getting on the driver was telling the man in front of me the channel on which to listen to the tour commentary. He suggested channel 22, which is English, so I pointed out that channel 2 was also English and asked if I’d been listening to the wrong one. He shrugged apologetically and I didn’t push the issue. Upstairs, the window wouldn’t open but I listened into channel 22 on the way to Alexanderplatz and found it a comical fake conversation between a dodgy sounding German man and an even dodgier German woman. A brief stretch of the conversation included her asking why there was so much building work on this road, the man replying that there had been a palace here, and before that maybe a castle, but the palace got damaged and had to be taken down. She expressed disappointment that such a lovely palace had gone, and he remarked that Kings and Emperors had stayed there, but it was ok as they were building another. They went on into a very bad song together, and I unplugged the earbuds.

Instead I got off again, letting the driver know that channel 2 was for adults and 22 for children (he struggled to understand my German, then got it, showed surprise, and expressed gratitude for the information) and waited for the next. There are tours of all forms in Berlin. Walking tours crowding around statues, segway tours holding up traffic, boat tours deftly dodging each other on the river and canal, the twits in Trabants and people on cycle tours ringing their bells obnoxiously because pedestrians are in their way.

This is because the pedestrians are on the pavement, and the only cyclists stupid enough to join them there are the groups of foreigners that can’t understand Western European bicycle use. Bicycles and cyclists are an inherent part of the Berlin street fabric, cycle paths on every road, a constant stream of people of all ages making their way safely through the city.

It helps that Berlin has big wide streets. There’s plenty of room for the cycle lanes, even in the built up streets of what used to be West Berlin. The former East Berlin is even better, the prevailing emphasis at the time on improving public spaces even at cost to private ones (hell, ideally at cost to private ones) means the DDR government widened the streets, creating lovely broad boulevards. Since reunification that open space has been embraced and retained, and additional land became available through the centre of the city, offering opportunities for development without spilling over into the existing streets.

The other common factor across Berlin is the graffiti. It’s endemic across the city, public and private buildings alike, the parks and even monuments all decorated. It’s hard to feel aggrieved about it, Berlin learned to become a city of street art, and tuned it into an international non-violent weapon of global diplomacy. The legacy lives on and seems a small price.

Another 8km walked today. I barely left the route of the tour bus but probably walked around 30% of its journey. That included strolling past the red town hall, the Dom and down much of Kurfürstendamm. I marvelled at the displays in the shops I passed, showing clothes as grotesque in their design as their price tag. Lunch was a venison goulash with mashed potato and some very broken red cabbage.

I didn’t eat the cabbage.

Sat back in the hotel about 2pm, took the time to cool down, rehydrate, rest my knee. Decided it was a waste of being in Berlin to sit there so stood up to go and find something new to do and had to sit down again. Left knee just refuses to work without substantial pain. It would be useful to be able to walk tomorrow (let alone getting home on Friday) so damage limitation seemed sensible. I’m away again next week and that’s going to need far more walking than even Berlin.

Nipped down to the hotel restaurant when the power went out in my room. Had no choice really, after leaving the room to inform reception of the issue the electronic door lock wouldn’t let me back in anyway. They had a nice selection, including Wiener Schnitzel (which interestingly seems to be the only schnitzel option available in Berlin – veal Wiener or nothing; rather a poor show after the delights I encountered in April) and the usual 30+ euro steaks. Instead I opted for a sandwich:

I never make a club sandwich but they’re a nice thing to have when I’m out and as the photograph suggests, this isn’t finger food. This restaurant caught me by surprise though: Because I hadn’t ordered a starter they brought out some bread as an appetiser. It would be criminal to turn down some fresh German bread so I ended up having bread before my sandwich..

The promised thunderstorm hit while I was in the restaurant. Its glass ceiling thundered with the rain hitting it, massive blobs of water hammering down in glorious loud reverberation. Two minutes later the skies above were blue once more.

The hotel restaurant has had a large screen erected since breakfast. Can’t think why.

Too many people, too loud, too irritating for me to watch down there. Glad I skipped it.

You’ll notice the lack of an ice cream picture today. I am so good. Well, the three meals and some chocolate notwithstanding.