The Continent: First Trip
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42 pages
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"All very hip and cool and the rest of it," Marc's friend suggested they take a trip to Berlin. On the Continent, Marc, Dave and Jane run into Eddie. The four of them embark on a magical tour, taking them from Kreuzberg to the Seven Sisters, from the Rhine Valley to the Yorkshire Dales. Back and forth they go, from the UK to mainland Europe and back again to Sussex. Their first trip to the Continent is just a little warm-up.

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Publié par
Date de parution 31 janvier 2020
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781528969246
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0175€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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The Continent: First Trip
George Kemper
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-01-31
The Continent: First Trip About the Author Copyright Information © Part One Berlin Part Two Brighton Part Three The Rhine Valley Part Four Berlin Revisited Part Five Heading out West Part Six Brighton and Beyond
About the Author
George Kemper was born in 1950. His first love was music—songs by the Beatles in particular. He studied English language at the University of Cologne. At first, without a clue, but later he began to see its richness in vocabulary. G. K. lives in his native town of Altena, Germany, incidentally twinned with Blackburn, Lancs.
Copyright Information ©
George Kemper (2020)
The right of George Kemper to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528937757 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528937764 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781528969246 (ePub e-book)
Cover artwork by Pia Bruer
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Part One Berlin

They were hanging around in the botanical gardens of Charlottenburg castle when Eddie appeared from nowhere.
“Hello, Marc, what’s up or WhatsApp?” Marc’s Brightonian friends, Dave and Jane, were staring at their smartphones.
“Slightly addicted, Eddie.”
“Aren’t we all, Marc, in many ways? Some are followers of fashion, others supporters of football teams, devoted fans—doubtless. Call it addiction. You see it everywhere. Tell you what,” Eddie said, “this is your first trip to the Continent. Might as well go to Kreuzberg. Wanna join me?”
Marc and his friends had arrived at Bahnhof Zoo the other day via Harwich and Hoek van Holland. They had crashed at Eddie’s place in Seelingstrasse after a night out at Café Bleibtreu.
“What’s this thing about Gentrifizierung? Sounds like some disease.”
“Well, yes,” Eddie said, “in some districts, flats are being renovated for no other reason than charging outrageous rents. It’s a disgrace.” Oblivious of the dialogue, Dave and Jane were still characterising their display, when Eddie and Marc got on their way to Sophie-Charlotte-Platz U-Bahn station.
“Don’t mind my asking, what made you come to Berlin. I mean, this place is full of people.”
“It was getting boring by the sea, and there was this bloke in Patcham, who told us that Berlin was the place to see. It sounded like theee place to see, all very hip and cool and the rest of it.”
“Marc, eine Molle zischen ? You know, the Deutsche are a funny lot. Why don’t they spell it, Zunami?”
“In England, it’s called German linguistic submissiveness.”
“Britannia rule the waves,” Eddie said.
“ Schlesisches Tor Zurueckbleiben .” A loud echo announced Linie 1.
“Come on, Marc, let’s make a run for it.”
“Silesian Gate stand back. How about that, Eddie. I passed the audition, didn’t I?”
“Brilliant. You into German at all?”
“Not that much, to be honest. I’m a…shall we say, I’m a little on the lazy side, when it comes to lingo.” Screeching tracks were taking Linie 1 back into daylight and on to the old overhead railway. On the other side of the car, two teenagers were vividly talking to each other, gadget in hand.
“See the haircut, Marc. Gone viral, hasn’t it?”
“I’m not so fond of it either. It’s a fad, is what it is. Just like the sixties. Not everyone looked good then. Talk about virus, you’re right. Same with mobiles and smartphones.”
“Hey, Marc, I’m dying for a Kindl. Let’s change lines and get on the 7. There’s a nice little park by the name of Hasenheide.”
It was still warm and sunny when they got off at Suedstern station. A nearby kiosk sat right on the corner of Volkspark Hasenheide.
“What you having, mate? Go for Berlin beer?”
“Sure, German beer, can’t be too bad.”
Half a litre later, things slowed down a bit. Both of them scented some fragrance.
“You’re not into smoking then,” said Marc.
“No, kicked the habit long time ago.”
“Give me a time check, Eddie.”
“Half past seven.”
“I wonder what Dave and Jane are doing.”
“Don’t worry. Berlin is not that big. I mean, it is big, very spread out, sort of. But once you get the hang of it, you exactly know how to find the right people and places. Why not sit over there by the tree.”
There were Turkish families sitting on the lawn, Asian and black people, dope vendors, a few drunks and the local scene. Some really attractive females were passing right in front of them.
“You’re eligible,” Marc said, “nice word, isn’t it?”
“Nice word, indeed. Look, some flashy get-up. They tryna’ act nonchalant. How about a change of scenery, Marc?”
“You bet, Eddie.”
They left Hasenheide and walked along Graefestrasse in a north-easterly direction, through a part of Berlin one would hardly find in a tourist guide.
“See the young people over there. They all look the same, don’t they? See the way they dress, the haircut and everything. There’s uniformity. They are uniform in their ubiquitous, would-be uniqueness. Happens all the time, quite literally, because people don’t change that easily.”
Eddie said that he was from a small town which is home of the wire industry. People over there were into wire and the rest of it. He was less into wire, he said, more into the wireless. A little pun, and they both had a laugh.
“We’re approaching Paul-Lincke-Ufer, named after a composer who wrote, ‘ Das ist Berliner Luft ’, a well-known song from the 20s.”
“Those were the days,” said Marc, “life in the fast lane, as it were.”
“Want another Molle, Eddie?” They were crossing the Landwehrkanal.
“I sure do. There’s a kiosk down the Ufer, can’t miss it. You’ll find me right here sitting on the wall by the willow trees.”
Twilight was coming on. Marc was on his own. It gave him a kick and it felt quite adventurous. He got two cans of Kindl and a packet of crisps. Taking his time, he slowly walked back to the place by the willow trees.
Eddie had the looks of someone waiting impatiently. “What happened? You okay?”
“Sure, nice area, very quiet. I’ve enjoyed the walk.”
“Had you walked another couple of blocks, you would have been able to touch the Berlin Wall. Nothing left though. Germans are thorough. Around Check Point Charlie, there are a few leftovers, you know, big tourist attraction. You don’t wanna join the folks over there?”
They were sitting opposite a crowded pub with fashionable prams, parked on the pavement. “Positive, Eddie, I like it here. It’s great. Perfect spot. The trees, the water. I need a drink.” Marc opened the can and took a swig. “I just don’t believe it. Sitting there and playing with their phones. Stiff upper necks. What a joke. Vanity fair reloaded.”
“Tell me about it. It’s a world-wide virus, make it three Ws. Will it come to a halt on the Bhutan border, mate?”
“I have no clue. One can only hope. This is good wallop, this is. Germans are good brewers for sure.”
“Marc, on a different note. How come the English language has such an abundant vocabulary? If I’m not mistaken, it has twice the number of French words.”
“William the Conqueror,” Marc said.
“What?”
“1066 Battle of Hastings. William was the Duke of Normandy. He landed in England and succeeded to the throne. Norman French mixed with the then spoken Anglo-Saxon, making English words, the English dictionary, effectively bilingual.”
“You told me you were not into this sort of thing, so to speak.”
“Sheila is to blame for it all, as it were. Sheila was my history teacher, and as it happened, I had a big crush on her. She told us all about the Norman invasion and the proverbial ‘splendid isolation’. Splendid is another French word. Fascinating stuff, should’ve seen the way she dressed, on top of it.”
All of a sudden, Marc got excited and looked in the direction of Kottbusser Bruecke.
“Look, Eddie. Look over there. Unbelievable. How did they find us?”
“I told you, Marc, Berlin is sort of spread out, but not that big.”
“Hi folks, happy to be united again, aren’t we?” Jane looked quite agitated. “We ran into Wolfgang,” she said, “and when I told him we were looking for you, Eddie, the first thing he said was, we should walk along Paul Linker Ufer or something. We would find you by the willow trees. Good we met him at Bleibtreu last night. It wasn’t easy, I tell you. My, I mean our perseverance eventually carried the day.” Eddie was silent. He hung on her every word.
“Listen, Marc. Got a text message from my mum. She asked me to come back, as soon as possible. You know Emily, she misses me. She misses me terribly.”
Emily was Jane’s little sister. “Right then,” said Eddie. “What’s the deal? You guys told me you had a return ticket, is that so? You can kip at Seelingstrasse and take it from there.”
“Cheers, Eddie, thanks a lot mate. I’m already hard up on cash, would you believe it?”
“It’s all right, Marc. I’ll see you guys off at Bahnhof Zoo. Done deal, dancing to the same tune, the four of us at last. Come on. We wanna get to Kottbusser Tor station. Linie 1 heading west.”
Back in the U-Bahn they had a great time cracking jokes about haircuts, electronic gadgets and about their fellow passengers in general.
“How about 10:35? That’s not too early, is it?” Eddie asked, checking the timetable at the Zoo station.
“It’s a bit early, Eddie, but we’ll manage,” Dave said.
“Okay, folks. Let’s go to Bleibtreu. We can all drink on my deckel. Remember the little cardboard thing?”
“Ah, the beer-mat, you mean.”
“Exactly, there’s some credit l

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