I love Berlin. But I honestly don’t think I will be coming back

I love Berlin. But I honestly don’t think I will be coming back. A completely uneventful, unarousing visit. When I think of all the erotic attractions on offer in Nuremberg or Frankfurt, why do I bother with Berlin. 77, Monte Carlo and Sissi were all pretty awful. The ruination of Berlin Zoo station continues—two days in a row I have not even been able to buy a Guardian newspapers here. In the Bavarian restaurant now, waiting for my rumpsteak. Gorgeous salad. So yesterday, what did I do? After several beers in the hotel reception, off to Hitler’s bunker and Wilhelmstraβe. Then to David Bowie’s café and house. King George was rubbish. Six girls, no one took my fancy. Back to hotel, McDonald’s, then bed. Woke 1130pm and rushed to BEC (in Lewishamstraβe!) but the kabins were rubbish. In poor state. One kabin the buttons don’t work, the next kabin the buttons work but it does not take your coins. Hard work. A lot of money wasted for nothing. 77, Sissi, Monte Carlo all poor. I will try Ciro or Caligula tonight—expensive, but I have to try something. Now all I want is food.

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