stranger's eyes

Rising at 6am, after a creativebuzzburstofjoyexcitement stopped me from sleeping, my train journey to the west takes me to another country, alien in the early morning sunshine that in this strange wet midsummer has become unexpected.

The low level train to Dalmuir runs in my mind on a parallel track to the S-Bahn to Potsdam in the far off days of my first time in Berlin, and I remember I will be there in ten days time.

My conference is interesting, and I don't mind too much that it's sunny outside and I am in.