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As for his new job, guiding senior citizens through the maze known as Berlin, this is his seventh time around. His designated bus driver this time is one of the past, an easy-going, jolly old fellow with whom he has worked before. Collaboration goes smoothly, so does the talking and, as a consequence, the being talked to. He has grabbed the microphone several times through Denmark and Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, telling tall tales about royal families, the Hanseatic league, and of course the aftermath of a Germany reunited. Having a microphone, and being in charge of it, means having a one-way conversation for the most part, but when they stop for coffee, he can hear in the clients' voices that they seem to have put their trust in him already.

They come in via Spandauer Damm, drive past the castle in Charlottenburg and the Zoologischer Garten, before arriving at the hotel. He gets less than an hour before the first excursion, meaning that there is time to have a shower and change, or lay down for a quck nap, but not enough time for both. As usual, he decides to spend time on the latter, the staying in his bright blue uniform for the remainder of the evening. He will have time to wear his own clothes in due time. Although he enjoys the work, it is the free time that he longs for, time during which he can wear his Diesels and Chuck Taylors all he wants, without having to think about representing the company by wearing bright blue. He takes additional pleasure this time around, having had to cancel the Wednesday excursion to Potsdam due to lack of interest. This will give him more time to himself, for the larger part of a full day.

There is a problem is one that he does not fully grasp. Being in Berlin on average twice a month makes slightly tired of it. He knows the city well, having been in most parts of town. He knows very well what there is left to see, but fails to go see it, once there appears a time slot that admits it. Berlin has become old news, talking about his going away when back home just conveys the weary notion of doing the same old - same old. Exactly the same thing as last week.

When Wednesday arrives he has given a lot of thought to going to Altes Museum (where he has never been) or up in the Fernsehturm to have coffee (where he has not been for a long time). He ends up doing neither. Instead he walks up and down Ku'damm, not with the intention to shop, but just to stroll and think of nothing for a while. When he actually does walk into a store to browse, it is a store of the expensive kind, and he justifies each purchase in his mind so that he can spend money on things he does not need. In KaDeWe he spends 60 euros on a burgundy neck tie from Hugo Boss, thinking it is the only tie that will go with the new grey shirt he intends to wear for Christmas. At Stefanel he spends even more on a simple navy blue V-neck, thinking the fabric is just as good and silky as cashmere, although of course it's not. He nearly spends another 100 on a T-shirt, it being a collaboration between Levi's and Damien Hirst. He stops in his tracks though, when he remembers that he loathes the artist in question, and eventually sees that the colour of the shirt wouldn't look good on him anyway.

He drops by the book store across from Breitscheidplatz to see if the handsome barista is working in the coffee shop on the second floor. He does see him there, tall and dark as they're supposed to be, but he doesn't go ahead and strike up a conversation, even thogh he should have nothing to lose, being a stranger in a strange town and all. He knows that his German is good, but he also knows that his German is not excellent, and he doesn't want to risk running out of words or being forced to switch to English. The latter, for a linguist, being to hard a defeat to bear. He ends up browsing the classics in the English section, not knowing whether to sink his teeth into Moby Dick or To the Lighthouse, knowing that his teeth will need to be sunken into both of them at some point or another. Neither of them speaks to him at this point in time, so he walks out empty-handed, trying to get eye contact with the coffee man on his way down the escalator, just for the sake of it. None is established.

There is still plenty of time before his dinner on Potsdamer Platz, so he decides to get on the underground and see where it takes him. He doesn't head west, towards Kreuzberg, since construction works force you to get off as early as Kottbusser Tor. Instead he heads north, looking out the window the whole time, loving the fact that so many underground trains actually go overground, and thereby rewards him with a trip with a spectacular view. He gets off at Oranienburger Tor, walks past Tacheles and the Great Synagogue with its golden roof, then walks aimlessly for the rest of the afternoon, all the way to Alexanderplatz and beyond.

His free time is aimless, but once put to work, he is confident and focussed, giving his all to provide the most important and interesting tidbits of information regarding Sachsenhausen or the Stasi headquarters. His mind is set on getting a thousand kronor bonus on this trip, which he will receive if all the clients that are with him give him top grades for his contribution to their vacation. Arriving back in Sweden, he is hopeful to get it, but not too sure of it. Someone always finds something to complain about, and if something has been grey, they will be sure to paint it black.