Boy is it cold.

Half term. The schools are closed for two weeks. Everything in town is shuttered for the holidays. The cafe under the arcades included. The florists facing the church is open but there are no takers for her chrysanthemums.

At the barbers Bob settles down under the sickly aspidistra. Can he sense an earlier presence ? I tell the barber I'm off on business. '' You'll need it short then " he says. 'Not too short' I reply. Bob barks when the barber approaches me with a cut throat razor. " You got your money's worth there " says 'the font' when reviewing the barbers handiwork.

Time to put on the going away shoes. The PON duo give me the '' and what do you think you're up to " stare. They get a trip to the airport. A chance for Bob to play with the magic sliding plate glass doors that hiss.

The hotel in Berlin a mix of architectural styles. The faux marble Corinthian columns in the lobby a travesty - they should be twenty feet higher. More stump than column. Architecture Harry Potter style. The American men in dark suits are all identically dressed in chinos, blazers, blue button down shirts and brown shoes. Angus thinks of commenting on this uniformity but decides against it. Free spiritedness is clearly not considered a corporate virtue . 

On Potsdamer Platz a bakery with very un-French patisserie. Boy is it cold. Back tomorrow.