#of my id too and i tried using my phone camera straight from the gallery option when i clicked upload. but because my phone sucks That also

[luvsavos]

i deserve financial compensation for the amount of fucking hoops i had to jump through to enable tipping on here

[marithlizard]

Ace Attorney: Rise From the Ashes (Day Two, Trial Former) (part two)

I feel like screenshots would add zing and be helpful, but it’d be a pain to do my own for technical reasons.  Does anyone know of a good image gallery for RftA?  Google didn’t turn up much.   

Anyway.  Day Two, and it’s time for the trial of the already-confessed suspect.

"How did the investigation go yesterday?"  Lana, you could tell us something yourself. Even if you're lying through your teeth it'd give us something to work with.

Ooh, barbed little exchange between Lana and Phoenix.  "Never believe your client, they're probably a lying scumbag."  "See, being a defense attorney requires some basic faith in humanity. Unlike Mia, you don't appear to qualify."

Huh.  We’re given an upfront ambiguous warning from Edgeworth, right in front of the court.  Yes, yes we know personal feelings are icky and you don't want them near your tailored waistcoats, but why do you feel the need to disallow them right now? Phoenix has no personal emotional stake in this case.  Unless...Edgeworth thinks the proceedings are going to rebound on him.

Ema, this is not the time for sexy cross-examination fantasies.  You can go home and write fic after your sister is safe.

The dominatrix lunch lady is a "professional" witness?   Edgeworth I hope you didn't mean that the way it sounds.  

Edgeworth is unmoved by your rice.  Take that, lunch lady.   (If only the judge had as much dignity.)  

OH  I misread that completely.  She's a former detective!  (And Jake Marshall is a demoted detective. Connection?)  And while Edgeworth accords her due respect by calling her work first-rate, she's openly hostile to him.

And she arrested Lana herself?  If this crime was as staged and performative as I suspect, was that all part of the act?   Yeah, I don't think you were alerted by a sense of destiny or your finely honed instincts, lady.   Or that you were there to bring lunch to your boyfriend.

Would the stabbing have been as easy as Angel Starr describes it?  Didn't Goodman put up a fight at all?  Sadly our autopsy report has all of two sentences in it.

Ooh,  she just opens fire on Edgeworth with both barrels. And she offers a motive, the first one we've heard so far,  that Goodman was killed for knowing too much about corruption of evidence.  

My goodness. Evidence is sacrosanct, but sexually propositioning the judge while giving testimony is fine? Got it.  (Phoenix at least tries to call out her obvious bias.) 

Here’s a photograph, which the lunchlady so very thoughtfully took.  Lana with a bloodstained trenchcoat draped over her, wearing gloves, seemingly about to close the trunk of the car.  This was clearly taken after the stabbing.   But...if you witnessed the crime itself,  and arrested the suspect on the spot, would you really have had time to take this picture?  You'd be busy trying to reach Lana, surely.    (Smartphones were not a thing yet, were they?  Did Angel just happen to be carrying a camera? ....She did.  A lunchbox camera.  Perhaps for spying on prosecutors.)

Edgeworth why do you even own a knife like that?  And how did Lana supposedly get ahold of it?

Yes, thank you, that cannot possibly be a photograph of the moment of the crime,  given the lack of either victim or weapon in it.  

"Are you trying to test me? I sell box lunches for a living, you know."  The translation team was having SO much fun with these.

Aha, so the knife was in the trunk.   Unless Lana knew it was there, she didn't have a weapon prepared, which seems off for a premeditated murder.

...actually why aren't we hearing Lana's own confession account on the stand instead of the lunchlady's?   I know, I know, it works better for the game to force us to reconstruct it all from clues, but what's the in-story reason?

"Mommy, are prosecutors bad people?"  Yeah, this whole thing is definitely at least partly staged to smear Edgeworth's reputation.  (also why are small children in the audience for a murder trial)

It doesn't seem to have affected his spirits, though, since he can make lunchbox jokes.  And oooh, he's firing back at Angel.  He doesn't care if it's premeditated or not, but she does.  (Why does she care so much? it's the death penalty either way in this system, isn't  it?)

Wait why is she testifying about Lana calling Goodman out to the  Prosecutor's Office?  She has no personal knowledge of that at all.  (Indeed, it turns out there is no evidence it even happened.)  Annnd here we go, she's perjuring herself.    Purple prose about "plunging the knife in again and again" that directly contradicts the autopsy report.    She hates Lana so much it's really clouding her judgment.    

Edgeworth is holding Angel strictly to account on her  testimony even though it favors his case.   And he's getting distinctly sardonic about her lies.  It's nice to see that the truth does matter to him.

Ooh,  he points out the contradiction with the autopsy report himself, stealing Phoenix's thunder!   That would never have happened in previous AA games.  He's really changed, or perhaps he feels so under threat that there's no point holding back.

She...thought she saw repeated stabbing because Lana had a red scarf on?  That doesn't make a particle of sense. And wait, in the photograph Lana wasn't wearing the scarf at all.    Why are we listening to a thing this woman says?

For the second time in a row,  Edgeworth interrupts and takes over Phoenix's objection for himself.   He's demolishing her quite satisfyingly.  Perhaps it's not a desire for the truth so much as finally getting to strike back, after having people speak ill of him for years.

"After the murder, the suspect attempted to run behind the partition".  Yeees,  that absolutely fits with your picture of a cold-blooded (yet enraged) stabber committing premeditated murder in a public place with evidence all over.

You climbed a nine-foot chain link fence, in your negligee, fur coat and heels (you are definitely wearing heels), so fast that you were able to apprehend the fleeing suspect after stopping to take a picture first.  Riiight.

Lana said "muffler"...like the car muffler?   On the phone? That means Ema has lied twice now - first she hid the fact that her sister called her right after the murder, then she claimed her sister hung up without saying anything.

Ah! So Lana wasn't attempting to hide at all, she was attempting to make a phone call.  Like you do when  you've discovered a body.  

Hah!  Phoenix points out that Angel just claimed to be able to look straight through the concrete partition.  I didn't actually pick that up.    And he's no longer taking anything she says at face value - he believes her statement that she saw Lana try to use the wall phone only because it's a pointless detail that no one would bother to lie about.  

...So he's willing to believe she saw what she says, but from a different location? I have to agree with Edgeworth, that also sounds pointless.  Why claim to be standing somewhere else?  "Where" isn't hard - she must've been in the pointedly-mentioned and clearly labeled security room,  looking down from above.  Why not say so?

And the judge FINALLY chastises her for lying, if only mildly.   She freely admits she'll say anything to take down Lana.  And it sounds like she has a reason, beyond personal hatred.  (A justified reason?)  

Good for Ema, she points out there's no obvious benefit to the location lie.  And Phoenix is the first to say the p-word.  What benefit would be worth that?  

"I swear it on my finest plastic spork!" A bible would surely be redundant.

Yes, five minutes between murder and arrest is  a TON of time.  Lana could easily have  escaped if she'd wanted to.  Angel surely made enough noise to alert her, running around and even taking her picture.   And Lana just apparently stood there? Why?

YES boot her off the stand, judge!  Don't let the caviar lunch sway you!

Court is adjourned, but there are still so many questions.  We still don't know what-  huh? Angel isn't ready to stop talking yet?

"I... might be able to save you."    Now isn't THAT an interesting statement.  It sounds like she's offering to save Edgeworth himself somehow, not just his case.  Even though she hates his guts.

The judge very politely tells her to feed her new claim of "decisive evidence" to someone else.  I approve,  though of course she'll end up having her say anyway.

NOW you bring up a bloody shoe? Which was, I'm going to bet, not in the police investigation report?  Why do you have Lana's shoe, and what does blood on it prove that the blood  on her coat and gloves doesn't?  

I was right, Edgeworth did not know about the shoe.   And he brings up "evidence law", that new evidence can't be introduced without the approval of the police department. Which is weird, because I certainly remember Phoenix producing all kinds of new evidence during former trials.  Not infrequently hidden or stolen from the police.  (Does that mean the victim's ID card which Phoenix pocketed is inadmissible? I bet it does not mean that. Edgeworth just doesn't want to accept evidence from this annoying person who hates him.)

Too bad for him, because she got it approved by the police department on her own...today?  I know Edgeworth is the opposition here, but that does not seem fair to him.  People who are not Phoenix need time to prepare their cases.  (Mostly because, unlike Phoenix, they actually have cases.)

Huh.  I don't know if this will be called out as a plot point, but a fundamental difference in approach just struck me here.   Edgeworth claims there could have been some bloody footprints that just didn't happen to be in the picture. He doesn't know, because unlike Phoenix he doesn't go to crime scenes. He relies on the police reports given to him.   That seems like it could come back to bite him in a much bigger way than just  this shoe.

Lana kicked over a water-filled oil drum while struggling with Angel.  ...Apparently no one but me finds this highly implausible.  Oil drums are heavy!  Even when empty,  kicking one over is a stunt for a martial artist, and when full...I can't picture it.

"Ah, yes, I will perform this feat of strength to wash away the bloody footprints, removing all the evidence against me. Except for my bloody coat, gloves and shoes, the murder weapon, the body, the eyewitness, and  the photo."   Edgeworth why does this seem logical to you? I an almost see Lana rolling her eyes in the prisoner's dock.

Hah. At the moment of failure,  Ema  stumbles on the one sure way to get Angel Starr pissed off enough to derail the trial again - accuse her of being on the side of a prosecutor in any way, shape or form.   She obviously *is*,  in that she and Edgeworth want the same verdict, but she can't stand to hear it said out loud.  

NOW of all times, she produces a photo of the body??  ...I guess proof that she withheld even more evidence from Edgeworth, against both their interests,  is supposed to be proof that she isn't on his side?  

The ghost of Mia appears in Phoenix's  mind, telling him not to give up.  And indeed, that photo shows something sticking out of the car's  muffler.   I was right, Lana meant that when she said "muffler" on the  phone.  

The trial has to be suspended while someone goes and looks to see what the thing in Edgeworth's car muffler is.  (Which really should've been noticed by any competent police investigators.  As should the fact that the suspect's shoe was missing on her arrest, and nowhere to be found.  Is the cowboy not actually very good at this?)

Next time: trial part 2, in which the judge is hopefully so stuffed as to no longer be susceptible to lunchbox bribery.

[sheminecrafts]

This is Samsung’s Galaxy Note 10 and 10+

Eight years later, the Galaxy Note is undeniable. The original device, unveiled at IFA 2011, seemed unfathomably massive for a handset — all 5.3 inches of it. Nearly a decade and hundreds of millions of handsets later, the line has transformed the way we think about mobile devices.

Sure the stylus hasn’t become a mainstream element on handsets outside of Note devices, but much the rest of the industry has come around to Samsung’s way of thinking about big screens and productivity. Even foot-dragging Apple ultimately gave in. These days, the average screen size hovers about the 5.5-inch mark.

With the battle of screen sizes long since won, Samsung has an entirely different battle on its hands. With the smartphone market plateauing — and even receding — for the first time ever, companies have a difficult task on their hands. How can they make continually compelling offerings every six months?

The truth is that companies have painted themselves into a corner. Smartphones have gotten so good that users don’t need to upgrade nearly as frequently. The good ones have also gotten extremely expensive, regularly starting north of $1,000. Between the S and Note series, Samsung has moved to a six-month release cycle, with the respective phones being used to funnel new features to both lines every half a year. In the process, the company has blurred the lines between the two, with the S Pen remaining the one true differentiator between devices.

With the introduction of the Note 10 and Note 10+, however, Samsung is attempting to broaden the appeal of its secondary flagship. Like the S line, the Note has been split into two distinct devices (well, three, when you factor in 5G — more on that later). The standard Note 10 marks a rare step down in screen size — though only slightly.

The base-level Note downgrades from 6.4 to 6.3 inches. Why? Samsung believes a move to a slightly smaller form factor makes the device that much more accessible. It’s a small concession, a literal fraction of an inch. But when you consider the fact that the newly introduced Note 10+ has roughly the same footprint as the Note 9, you begin to realize how much more compact the Note 10 is.

That’s one thing Samsung has progressively gotten better at, year in, year out. The screen to body ratio on the new Notes is impressive. I’ve read a fair amount of critical hindsight recently about how the first Note was received as being “too large.” The fact of the matter is that it was massive, even by today’s standard. Sure, 5.3-inch is nothing in terms of screen size in 2019, but back then that required a lot more phone.

You’ve likely seen plenty of renders of the device before now — and they’ve basically all proven to be true. It’s a nice-looking phone. Samsung’s leaned in further on the curves, leaving little to no bezel on the thing. The cutout camera on the S10+ has been ditched in favor of a single small hole punch floating in the center (Samsung tells me it’s ditched the dual-selfies in favor of improving the single one via software, machine learning and the like).

Also notably missing is the headphone jack. After years of mocking Apple and its ilk, the company’s inevitably eating a bit of crow on this one. The tipping point is two-fold. First, big batteries are back, at 3,500mAh on the 10 and 4,300mAh on the 10+. For reasons you know but we won’t get into here, Samsung put the larger battery on hold for a bit, in favor of additional safety precautions.

[gallery ids="1865842,1865841,1865840,1865839,1865837,1865912,1865897,1865896,1865891,1865885,1865884,1865883,1865881,1865871,1865870,1865869"]

The other big factor is the Bluetooth tipping point. The company says a majority of flagship owners are now listening to music through a wireless connection (anecdotally around 70+%). Obviously that figure drops when dealing with less expensive handsets — people buying mid- and low-tier devices are still less inclined to shell out for Bluetooth headphones. Expect Samsung to blow through this bit of news pretty quickly at today���s event.

To help ease the shift, Samsung is including a pair of USB-C AKG headphones in the box. No dongle in-box, though. That’ll cost you.

Also gone is the standalone Bixby button. Instead, the power button summons Bixby with a long press. You can still remap that function, as well. Samsung is still pumping money into its smart assistant, but has generally acknowledged the lukewarm presence.

But enough of what we’re missing, right?

The back of the device (which sports some lovely new prism color schemes) sports a triple-camera area. There’s a 16 megapixel ultra wide, 12 megapixel standard wide angle and 12 megapixel telephoto. The 10+, meanwhile, brings a time of flight sensor, for added depth detection. It’s one of a small handful of distinctions between the models, including screen and battery size.

There are some nice software additions here, as well, including the ability to add a bokeh-style focus effect to video. Using the gyroscope and machine learning, the system dramatically reduces shake in photos.

The TOF sensor brings a 3D scanner feature to the camera, so users can scan an object and turn it into a moveable render. Honestly, that one still feels pretty niche. The company adds that there are some additional potential AR features there, though those will be in the hands of developers.

Zoom-In Mic is a cool addition to video, which uses the mic array to direct sound recordings to the spot where you’ve focused the camera. That will be a cool one to test out when we get more time with the phone in the near future. Night Mode, meanwhile, has been added to the 10 megapixel front-facing camera for all of those low-light selfies.

AR Doodle is one of the neater camera software add-ons, letting users scribble on spots in space with the S Pen or add images and masks to faces. Move the phone around the room and they maintain their position. Add that one to the fun-but-not-particularly-useful list of AR applications.

The S Pen itself has shifted to a more solid unibody design. Samsung has also added the ability to create custom gestures with the input device On the software front the main addition is better handwriting recognition. I tried it out and it did a pretty solid job with my horrible chicken scratch.

DeX continues to be a a key piece of the puzzle for Amazon. Here that includes new drag and drop capabilities between the Note and a connected Mac or PC. The company says the feature is much improved over past attempts at Android/desktop functionality. Honestly, the DeX branding is getting a bit cloudy at this point — that’s only made more murky by the addition of a non-DeX Link to Windows feature that brings notifications and messages straight to a connected Windows 10 PC.

That’s more of a minor branding quibble, though.

Inside you’re getting the Qualcomm Snapdragon 855 (not plus, mind), coupled with 8GB of RAM on the 10 and 12GB on the 10+. Both versions feature a base 256GB of storage (no microSD), while the 10+ also has a 512GB version.

As usual, nothing too major to complain about here. The Note 10 feels like a pretty small upgrade in the grand scheme of things. The biggest news this time out is the addition of a second, XL size.

Pre-orders open tomorrow, August 8th for both. They’ll be in stores on the 23rd. The 10 starts at $950 and the 10+ starts at $1,100. Pre-order deals include accessories like the Charging Duo pad and Galaxy Watch Active.

There’s a 5G version of the Note 10+ available, as well, at the same time. That’s going to be a Verizon exclusive at launch, however, with pricing still TBD.

from iraidajzsmmwtv https://ift.tt/2YXlunW via IFTTT

[rudimentaryrecollections]

Berlin 2 September – 10 September 2017

I really like this place straight off. I walk from the coach terminal to the nearby Grinewald forest. The path takes me through a large area of communal housing, small cottages which look mostly self-sustained, with large gardens.

The forest relaxes me. I climb a hill with what looks like a street art exhibition at the top, with some  rundown cold war thing in the middle. I want to enter but I have no Euros, only Swekish Kronas. It is 8E for a ticket.

I later find out the place is called Tefulesburg. It is the remains of an NSA listening station from the cold war. The hill is artificial, having been built out of the debris from WW2. I decide I will go some other day.

I walk to a train station and buy a weekly ticket, as I will be here for this long. I go to the city centre and explore the museum area and canals. I book a cheap hostel nearby for the night, and a good vibes looking one in East Berlin for the rest of the week.

Not much to say for the first evening. I check into the hostel. Have some beer in the park. Socialise in the room with my roomates. More beer in the hostel bar, read my book and go to bed.

In the morning I explore the city centre a bit more. I see more museums from the outside, an old cathedral with some bullet marks in the stonework from the war and some other landmarks I take nothing more than a passing interest in.

I notice there are more exposed pipes in here. I find out from a German friend later that this is because the ground underneath the cities is very boggy, and is not stable enough to hold the pipes reliably in their place underground.

I catch a tram to the hostel. It is nice, with a large open garden, blooming with tall sunflowers and marigolds, and a common room and kitchen which has large doors that open into the garden. The owner checks me in and seems like a cool guy. I rest in my room. A man is passed out on the couch in there. He wakes up and introduces himself as Peter, and apologises as he has been partying for 24 hours straight, so cannot offer more in conversation. I tell him I understand and it is important to rest after such a party.

I leave the hostel. I’ve noticed there are lots of abandoned buildings in the city, and found a website called abandoned Berlin. I like taking photos at such locations, so I find one nearby, and abandoned children’s hospital, and head towards it. I walk past a brewery, with crates of recycled bottle standing tall outside. Eventually I come to the hospital, and it is

I spend hours there, carefully treading through the dilapidated building. I explore it thoroughly, trying to imagine what it was once like. There is much graffiti here, and evidence of squatters and parties in the wreckage. Arsons have tried to burn raze the place from the ceiling down. The basement sections have stale air and are pitch black. I explore them with my flashlight. There is next to no graffiti here, the street artists perhaps being too spooked by it. There is some writing on the walls though. “Welcome to hell.” “I died here.” “Help me, I am in hell.” “This way to the portal.” “You have reached the point of no return.” “Don’t look at the sky because that’s when the hell creeps in.”

All this with arrows to follow. I follow the trail through narrow pipe passageways and holes in brick walls, half indulging myself in the horror fantasy and half being amused imagining myself as the author of these messages – a youth with a can of spray paint. I bump into a group of three young explorers who are friendly, and a lone man, about my age exploring, who I am friendly towards. The sun is starting to set when I leave. I have a couple of hundred more photos on my phone and camera.

If you are interested in the hospital’s history, or even to compare some of my photos with those from a few years ago, I recommend the Abandoned Berlin page for it - http://www.abandonedberlin.com/2013/08/abandoned-childrens-hospital-zombies.html

I catch a tram back to the hostel and get a falafel and some beers. I befriend a man from Arizona in the kitchen who I share some musical tastes with. A fire is lit outdoors and it becomes a social hub. I sip beer and chat. It is a Monday evening so most of us retire at midnight.

The next day is aimless. I catch trams and just ride them around. I explore some parks. I explore the city centre once again, and find a good falafel joint. I have some beers to ease my headache. I do not want to socialise so I stay out until it’s dark, reading my book in random places. Then I go straight to bed when I get back, passing by the group around the fire, giving nothing but a head nod to those I know, too exhausted to talk.

The next day I go to the nearby Stasi prison. The Stasi being the East German Soviet police. It is a scary place. I hear about the psychological torture and cruel punishments for being a so called enemy of the state. It is depressing, like 1984 by George Orwell. It is also very bleak, grey walls, grey sky. Many prisoners were innocent, and often locked up if it was thought someone in the west would pay a ransom for their release. Essentially state kidnapping was a source of revenue. The cells were purposefully made too hot or cold to ensure discomfort. The light remained on all night. You could not lie on the bed during the day, you had to stand up. They would deprive you of sleep and make you go mad so that your just wanted it to stop and would confess to anything they wanted you to. They would interrogate you at night. It would all continue until you sign some bizarre confession of crimes being a spy and implicate your friends and family and then they would send you to other prisons or to labour camps. It helped me understand life in the DDR. Thank fuck that’s over.

I buy some groceries on the way back. Back at the hostel I switch rooms from the nine bed dorm to a tent in the back garden, where chickens roam free. There are two beds in here, I have it for two nights, and I have it alone. Other people have their own tents pitched out here too. There is an apple tree where I pick a fresh apple for later. Then it buckets down with rain and I rest and relax in the tent for the afternoon. At night I cook some roast cauliflower and potato for dinner. Then I sip beers on the couches in the common room. Other people join me, some come and go. Australian, Glasweigian, English, German, Danish, Irish, Canadian, Israeli, Brazilian, Argentinian – the usual assortment of nationalities. All good people, as this place seems to attract.

The next day I sleep in late. Then I catch random trams and trains again. I walk through a long pedestrianised street lined with shops. I end up at the Oberbaum Bridge, where the East side Gallery starts – a long stretch of the preserved Berlin wall with street art and history painted on it. I walk along it. I follow it slowly sipping beer until it ends. Then I follow the Spree river back to the town centre and jump on a tram back.

I cook some potato and cauliflower curry for dinner, and am thinking to have a quiet night in the tent, but Peter invites me to a night on the town with him. As a gay man he wants to go to some gay  bars I like to think of myself as open minded, so I’m fine with going along to witness this new experience. Why not? I think, when in Berlin. The nightlife here is famous, and I’d been meaning to check it out.

I knew I would have to get very drunk in an effort to get into the spirit of things. I had some sad news at the start of the evening, which my mind tends to turn back to. I had been trying to contact a friend, Marija, in Serbia at the start of my trip. I had never met them before, they were someone I befriended through the internet some way or another, and we used to have a pen pal type relationship, but through instant messenger. She had a genetic disease, some form of muscular dystrophy and I had thought it would be nice to visit her and bring her a gift. At the start of the night I got a reply:

Hey Mark,

this is Marijas sister, I turned on her phone today after a while

She passed away in January on Christmas

Got very sick in a short time and doctors couldn’t do much, we didn’t see it coming that fast

It put me in a reflective mood. I could not help but feel sorrow for her. Yes it would pass and I would feel thankful that I am a healthy, educated Australian.

But I had to grieve for her first. She spent most of her life in a wheelchair in pain, and in a country with not the greatest medical facilities. She was intelligent, but could not go to university, as Serbian infrastructure does not readily accommodate disabled access as Australian cities do. She suffered then she died.

So there I was, gloomy and withdrawn, drinking with Peter, bubbly and gay.

We go to Kreuzberg, an area with many bars and nightclubs. We go to a supermarket and drink prosecco and energy drinks purchased from a convenience store outside a bar with coloured lights. We go to a quiet bar and have another energy drink. We go to an energetic gay bar which I am entertained and uplifted by. We go to a convenience store and buy some peppermint schnapps which I throw back greedily. I am finding it hard to get out of my shell.

Peter is a regular at these places, and sometimes knows some people. I do my best to be open and friendly, and perhaps I also feel a degree uncomfortable.

I hardly remember the last bar, Roses, with it’s red lighting, leather seats and fur on the walls. But I become very sleepy and at some point I left the bar of my own accord and caught a train home.

In the morning I could not find my wallet. Oh well. It’s either pickpocketed, dropped on the train home, or back at the bar. Bank card, UK ID, Aussie driver’s licence. Nothing I can’t replace. Nothing in comparison to the news about Marija. I cancel one tomorrow night’s booking at the hostel, and switch to the 12 bed dorm I had had booked. I catch a tram to town. I go to the lost property office but it is closed. I message Laura asking her if she can buy me some phone credit, as I cannot recharge without a UK bank card. I want to call the bar we were last at to see if they have the wallet.

I exchange my Czech and Swedish cash (which had been in my backpack) for Euros so I have money to pay for the next night at the hostel. I walk back to the hostel since I have lost my tram ticket. I explore a large park for some time, and am lucky enough to see a native red squirrel. Apparently these are becoming rare, as a large North American grey squirrel has pushed them out.

It is dark when I return to the hostel. I rest for a while. Then I make some food and sit brooding in the corner of the common room.

It is Friday night so things are a bit more lively. Peter appears. I ask him how the rest of his night was. He said a Finnish lady kept buying him drinks, as she had been promoted. Then he went home with a guy and was just getting back. He says he was confused by my disappearance, I explained I had been very drunk and I just leave when that happens. He wondered if something was wrong, as I had seemed to keep my distance from him. I explained my aloofness was due to grief. He said he did not think I got a kiss last night. I agreed. He said, well perhaps tonight!

I tell him about my wallet and he says we should go back, he was going to do it all over again tonight. Laura has not had time to recharge my phone yet, which is fair enough. So although it’s the last thing I want to do, I have no choice but to come along. However we are to have some friends join us this time. I quickly become friends with Georgie the west coast badass style American, and ratify my friendships with Peter, Jessie who I had talked with a few time over the last week and Anna, a Canadian who works at the hostel.

We follow the same route as the night before, and it feels a little like deja vu. We return to the spot with coloured lights, however this time I split a bottle of rum and some grapefruit juice with Georgie. This makes me quite drunk, and the next thing I know is we are back at Roses. They have my wallet at the bar. I become ecstatic and buy a round of drinks for my friends, tipping the bartender generously. Anna and I magnetise toward each other and spend much time dancing and talking together. Peter was right, I would get a kiss tonight.

As a group we were in the bar chatting to other people, then on the street at a night store drinking Club Mate, an energy drink, and then back in Roses. Around 5am in the morning the bar closes. It has been a crazy fun night, with too much happening to describe.

Anna and I catch a cab back as she is worried about getting back for work in the morning. She cannot find the keys to her room however so I keep her company in the common room until the sun rises and then I crawl to my bed.

Tonas, the owner of the hostel awakes me. It is past checkout time and he needs to collect my bed linen, unless I want to rebook the night I cancelled. I choose to rebook and sleep a bit more. I get up and have a shower. I’m meant to meet Maxine (my German friend from Ghent and Luxembourg) today in Potsdam and then hangout with Anna tonight.

I get the train to Potsdam. Maxine is as exhausted as I am – however her fatigue comes from work and study. She gives me a brief and informative tour of the place. We meet outside a large church, and are allowed to climb to the top for free as she knows the staff. It is an impressive view, and she points and describes landmarks to me. It was a DDR town, so she explains how they widened the main streets for military parades. The hollywood of Germany is here, and we discuss the few German films I have seen. We can hear loud men on loud speakers, and see many police cars at a square in the distance. Maxine explains that the German election is in three weeks. A populist party has emerged and is tipped to get the third most votes. There is a rally today for the populist party, and an anti-populist counter-rally. Thus the loud speakers and police cars.

As we descend the narrow staircase, we pause in the main room where a choir rehearses for the night’s performance. They will perform pop songs that evening. I have never heard anything quite like it in the tall, acoustic hall. A mini orchestra backs them up, and it is at first a relaxing, ambient sound, but unexpectedly it turns into an uplifting chorus. Maxine says she was thinking of going tonight, and later I am to find out she had hoped I would visit in the evening rather than the afternoon.

She takes me to her work, a liquorice store, and she chats with her friends in German who are working. They give me some liquorice, and although I do not like liquorice, this piece ain’t so bad. Sabine was a midwife, but grew tired of it, so now she studies art and culture and works at the liquorice store, which she prefers. We go for coffee and a cupcake and the conversation flows easily. We speak of her travels. She spend many months in Israel. As we leave the woman at the counter who has a heart-warming smile inquires if we are Jewish, as we spoke of Israel and the Sabbath.

Next we walk to Sansoucci, the palace of Fredrick the Great. It is spoken of as a rival to Versailles, albeit it is smaller. It is very pretty, and I absorb myself in the moment rather than pausing for photos. At Fredrick’s grave there are potatoes placed on top of it. Sabine explains this is because he introduced the potato to Prussia, during a great famine. The people were slow to adopt it, and were eating the leaves as they did not understand what to eat. But the way Fredrick made people want to learn how to grow it, was by planting a great field of them, and having it guarded. Once the people saw it was guarded, they decided it was valuable and started growing it themselves.

After this I am too tired to do much more but return to the hostel. So we catch a bus to the train station and say our farewells as the train arrives. I hope to see her in the UK, or in Europe again one day.

I have some beers on the tram ride home in a hair of the dog approach to my own well being. Johnny, a quiet guy from Bristol who is in my room at the hostel is on the tram. He came here for an engineering job interview. I compare cities in the UK to live in, and he confirms Bristol is a creative place, but not the cheapest. Best head north if I want the cheaper rent.

Anna is working at reception when I get back. She tells me Tonas said she had been too drunk for the morning shift, so he let her off it and in return she’s doing the night shift. We agree to have some beers in the common room later.

I rest in bed for some time and get up later for a shower and some food. It is eerily quiet in the hostel for a Saturday night. I later find it is because many guests went to Lollapalooza, a music festival nearby. I head out with my book for a falafel and some more beer. I desperately need some sleep but have had so much caffeine that day it won’t come.

I return at 10pm. Michael has let Anna shut reception two hours early since it is so quiet. She got her keys back, Jessie had them for a reason neither of them recall. The hostel sells a Potsdam beer Sabine had recommended me, and we split many of these. We share conversation with others who come and go on the couches – some drinking, some smoking spliffs. Eventually we go to bed.

The next day I loaf around the hostel until midday. Then I say farewell to Anna, agreeing to meet up with her sometime in October, and I bid adieu to any other friends basking in the garden’s sun.

It was great place to stay, Sandino World Improvement Network hostel.

But I had to leave. Prague is calling me, there is work I want to do.