M. Beisenherz: Sorry, I’m here privately
London cuddling
© Illustration: Dieter Braun / stern
Everyone’s crazy out there. The bars are full. The streets too. One seems miles away from a lockdown here. London pubs are like a gentle hug in tough times.
From Micky Beisenherz
With two pints in hand blissfully from the counter to the leather-covered bench, one for my friend Oli, one for me. He has already plopped down in the seat that he can probably only be separated from him surgically. Billiards is playing on the television above us. Beer comes from the taps, which in Germany is only available from selected liquor dealers for horrific money. Cheers.
How much I missed these English pubs. We’ll chat right away. Only the remnants of our sanity keep us from ordering a fourth pale ale. This city may be hectic. According to. Mercilessly capitalist. As soon as you walk into these unparalleled cozy bars, the world has to stay outside.
I would hardly be here at all. The entry procedures with online forms are so complicated that I want to cancel several times while filling out the form and just want to stay at home. Hamburg is London’s little German sister anyway. One could easily get the impression of being undesirable. That is how high-threshold entry into the renegade British Empire has become. Among other things, it is necessary to specify the order number of a corona test, which you had to book online with a certified provider in the course of the process in order to be able to obtain the coveted QR code that you show at the check-in counter before departure . You pick up this antigen test kit on day two of your stay at the reception of your British hotel and … well. If you are positive, you should report it. But frankly, nobody gives a shit. Nobody asks about it anymore. (I was negative by the way. Twice.)
The bars are full. The streets too. One seems miles away from a lockdown here. Christmas time in London is a revelation. The millions of lights that play around the Victorian architecture like flashing jewelery. You have to be completely emotionally crippled in order not to be corrupted by it. Everything so incredibly warm and inviting, so cliché-like umbrella charm. Sometimes also frightening when you see that distance and mask are understood here more as a non-binding offer.
Harrods, Hyde Park and Abbey Road Studios
Boris Johnson is holding a speech somewhere in front of high-ranking business representatives, in which he praises the greatness of the English inventive talent using the example of the cartoon pig Peppa Wutz. It’s so crazy, haughty and wonderfully ignorant that the pinched German just has to love it.
Oli and I are strolling through Harrods, this legendary posh department store. The influence of the legendary former owner, the Egyptian Mohamed al-Fayed, can still be felt as you admire the temple-like style of the building from the escalators.
The lights of the ferris wheel above Hyde Park. In the middle of this huge green area there is a fair. Oli and I are standing by the lake and enjoy the peace and quiet. To my left is a swan. The animal is surprisingly trusting. Usually swans are the hooligans among the geese with a tendency to the over-the-top outfit.
Tomorrow, Oli will be walking across the zebra crossing in front of Abbey Road Studios in just a brocade coat for a video. In France they recently wanted to arrest him for something similar. Nobody cares here. In times when everyone is involved in everything, this pleasurable indifference is sometimes nice. Cheers.
Micky Beisenherz is looking forward to you: What moves you Exchange ideas with our columnist: www.facebook.com/micky.beisenherz