Articles by Jared

Jared Goldman is the Bar Manager at both Goldman’s Bar and Fabisch…and our expert on fine drinking in the city. To contact him: goldman [at] circus-berlin.de

Hungry Jared – Honigmond

4. Juni 2012 in Berlin, Food, Hungry Jared by Jared

HonigmondOK, so it has been a while… but now Mr Goldman has finally moved out of Mitte, what does he do? He heads back to his old hood for a bit of a nostalgic meal at the wonderful Honigmond:

NoTo – North of Torstraße… sounds quite cool, quite hip, but one of the highlights of the neighbourhood is something a little more established. The Honigmond coffee house restaurant is attached to the hotel of the same name, and inside you will find all the dark wood that you would imagine in an establishment of this nature, so for a lighter approach head down when the weather is fine and grab a seat outside.

My lady and I had started the evening with a couple of beers in the Prater Garten – so it was clear we were in the mood for German cuisine – and once we had made our way down to Honigmond it was clear that at this time of the year we had to try some of the asparagus. Here in Berlin they go crazy for the stuff, which is no surprise as it is grown in the sandy soil just out of town, and so we shared a bowl of asparagus soup to get us started.

For my main I had Taffelspitz (boiled meat with a horseradish sauce) served with bouillon vegetables. My girl hadn’t quite had her fill of asparagus ordered some more up, served with schnitzel and boiled potatoes. All I can say about this place is that every time I visit it feels as if the portions are getting bigger and the service even friendlier… the food was amazing and it was one of those eating out experiences that I did not want to end as every element – the food, the setting, the company – was perfect.

We followed up our meal with some cake, espresso and scotch to round things off, and being so contented we knew that there was nothing we could do that evening to top the experience so we headed home. This really is a gem, hidden in the back streets of Mitte. It is one of my old-new favourites. Check it out.

Hungry Jared – Mr Goldman goes to Bandol

11. Februar 2011 in Berlin, Food, Hungry Jared by Jared

Bandol_EntryOn a Sunday evening, when I once more could not be assed to cook for my girlfriend, I decided to treat her to a meal a a little joint I know on Torstrasse. Once a fastfood place, Bandol has kept many of the fixtures and fittings of its former incarnation, and looks a little bit like the kebab (or hamburger) joint that it once was.

One you walk in there is the normal glass case, but instead of being filled with salad items for your döner, it houses wagu beef and other mise en place for the evening. The walls are painted black and have the evening menu written up there, and above is the only decoration in the whole restaurant – old wooden fridges hanging from the ceiling, like the ones you’ve seen in the old movies.

The one problem with handwritten, chalkboard menus is that if the writer does not have a steady hand, it can be a little bit difficult to work out what there is to eat. So I was pleased to be handed a printed menu, but this was countered by the fact that it was printed in the same handwriting as on the walls…whoever that person is, I can only presume they were a doctor in a former life.

Bandol_DrinksBetween us we finally worked out what was on offer, and the apperizers ranged from winter salad with wild boar to oyters, via foie gras and snails. Now, as a diciple of Anthony Bourdain I am commited to try pretty much anything once, but my girl was not in an adventurous mood so we settled for the winter salad with wild boar and cranberries.

When it arrived, the meat and the salad were separate, and the wild boar was surrounded in a dough that tasted a little bit like Christmas stollen. Apart from this, the flavour was surprisingly muted, although the cranberry sauce helped. As for the winter salad I was extremely impressed by the chop-chop work that went into the apples and beets.

Before our main course arrived we were served our amus bouche, which was a hot soup of leek and potatoes with two neatly placed dollops of olive oil. Our server told us it was a present…but I am wise to these things by now, and know that everyone gets this “present” in order to feel special. And if everyone gets it, then its no so special anymore now is it?

From our seat we could see into the open kitchen, and at one point we noticed the kitchen guys swinging into action, getting busy chopping and firing things off. A good sign, as it was clear that there was no re-heating going on, this was food cooked a la minute. I had ordered the Irish entrecote accompanied by vegetables and a potato gratin. My girlfriend had fish, served with some sort of julienned cabbage and fried blood in a sauce with white bubbles. Interesting.

Bandol_FoodThe beef was good, but the fish had very little taste, although the fried blood tasted fine until my girlfriend told me what it was, causing my commitment to waver after a couple of mouthfuls. We ended the meal with creme brulee, accompanied by mandarins and cappucino. The mandarins were served in an orange reduction and combined perfectly with the creme brulee. Nice!

So what did I think about the whole experience? From an atmosphere point of view, I had a great time, and really felt for the time I was there that I was sitting in a small place down a sidestreet in Paris. The service however was not that informative, often bored, and more of a burden than a help. Not such a good sign. The food was generally good – although the fish was a bit plain – but the prices (main meals between €25 and €28) suggest that you should really be getting something spectacular. It may feel like Paris, but this is still Berlin baby.

Which got me to thinking that perhaps the reputation of the place, and the prices that go with it, are a little overblown. I would go again, but would stick to a drink and steak and not mess around with anything else. If you want a small and cozy spot for dinner, with a nice atmosphere, then Bandol is a good choice…but for the price the quality of the food and service does not let me rate it as highly recommended.

Bandol – The Low Down:

Where: Torstrasse 167 (UBhf Rosenthaler Platz)
Open: Daily from 1800 to 2300
Reservations: A must! There are generally two sittings, one at 1800 and one at 2100. Call ahead on 030 67 30 20 51
Prices: Starters (€12,50-€18,50), Mains (€25 and up), 4-course Set Menu (€48). NO CARDS ACCEPTED
Seats: 15

Mr Goldman Rating (of 5): **

Hungry Jared – Mr Goldman Goes to Spaghetti Western

19. Januar 2011 in Berlin, Food by Jared

spaghettiwestern2Out for dinner once more, my girlfriend and I were celebrating her excellent results in some university exams and I did not feel my own culinary skills were up to the occasion. We headed to Spaghetti Western on Torstrasse, just a hop, skip and a jump from my place, and I have been there many times, drawn in by the aroma of olive oil and garlic.

We arrived a little after eight, and were lucky to find a table for two at the back of the room. This meant we could talk with no-one listening, and we also had a good view from which to observe our fellow diners. As I had been there a few times, this time it was my turn to be the expert about the menu, so I made a couple of suggestions.

We ordered the spaghetti with cherry tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, black olives and rocket. As we waited for our pasta to arrive we were served homemade bread…which was extremely well seasoned and freshly baked. We sat back to have a chat and wait for our mains. The rest of the people in the place were also chatting, which made for a lively atmosphere of easy-going people; a mostly young crowd looking to have a need feed without a hefty price tag.

When our meals arrived the portions seemed, at first glance, to be a little bit small, but it was deceiving since it was piled pretty high. The tomatoey sauce looked very light, and you could tell they had used a high grade olive oil. The rest of the trimmings were a little thing, although they were nicely cooked and fit the spaghetti very well…giving a diverse tasting experience with each bite, which kept our mouths entertained.

We followed up the meal with coffees – including a fifty-fifty success rate by the barista when it came to coffee-foam artwork – and this time my girlfriend offered to pay. Thankfully for students such as her, this quick dinner made with fresh-ingredients was extremely reasonable, and is a great option for a quick dinner only a ten minute walk down the street from the Circus. Tasty.

Mr. Goldman goes to Grill Royal

12. Januar 2011 in Berlin, Food by Jared

Grill-Royal-OutOn Saturday night it was my girlfriend’s birthday, and as you know Mr Goldman likes the romantic gesture, so I had to make the right choice for dinner. The occasion called for some good beef, a little bit of decadence, and the joy of people-watching, so I went for the starting point of Berlin’s elite party crowd: The Grill Royal.

If that was what I was looking for, then it soon became clear that I made the right choice. First up, the beef. As we sipped our first drinks of wine and alcohol-free beer (we turned down the suggestion of champagne or a bellini) we tried to decipher the menu, but the complicated culinary terminology was quickly too much, as was the sheer range of choice when it came to different cuts of meats and ways of preparation. We called someone over to help.

I was interested in the T-Bone (yabba, dabba, do!) but when I explained that I was not looking for a thick piece of meat and she showed me using her fingers what I was about to order my stomach revolted in advance at the thought of handling that amount of beef in one sitting. Instead, our new friend suggested either the entrecote from the USA, or the Wagyu from Australia. Now, I have heard about this Wagyu beef, and the rumours that these happy cows have an extremely controlled diet, get to listen to classical music, and have their own masseuse.

Can this be true? Indeed, our waitress told us. Yes, the cows have a very special diet, and yes they are massaged. She mentioned nothing about classical music, but then again the Australian version of these cows are perhaps bigger fans of Cold Chisel. In any case, we took her advice and ordered the cut from the States and the cut from Down Under, with some sides of grilled asparagus, sweet potato fries and some potato puree. Oh, and for a starter we ordered a KILO of prawns. It was a special occasion after all…

As we waited for our food we got into people-watching period of the evening, and in Grill Royal there was certainly a lot of interesting characters to look at, and we had a lot of fun playing the game of trying to guess people’s background and professions just by looking at them across a crowded restaurant. The place was pretty smart – a lot of suits, dinner dresses and complicated eye make-up – and the tell-tale sign of a number of older men (who ate their prawns with their fingers and by the fist-load) with their skinny younger partners (who attempted to shell their prawns with a knife and fork – 2011’s most effective dieting strategy). But this being Berlin we also spotted gay couples, some casual dressers and the odd transvestite, so the generally stiff atmosphere could never get too uncomfortable.

The KILO of prawns arrived, perfectly cooked with butter and garlic, to be delivered by service staff whose raised eyebrows suggested surprise that two delicate flowers such as ourselves were going to attempt such a pile of seafood. The prawns were out of this world, and I began to forget the slightly surreal surroundings and unlike most of my fellow diners, I did not care who was looking or what people thought of me. We stuffed ourselves silly.

After a short break it was back to the beef. Once again the meat was fantastic, and especially when it came to our Aussie Wagyu beef it was clear that this had once been a very happy, well-fed and relaxed cow. We took our time and savoured every bite – a special mention must also go to the sweet potato chips – and then headed for a post-meal cigarette in the smoking room, where we could relax surrounded by tasteful pictures of naked women that were hanging from the walls.

Back at the table we took coffee and crème brulee, and watched a woman dressing a table next to us for the next customers. Rather than clearing the crumbs, she simply threw on another table cloth to cover up the mess beneath. It seemed to me like the perfect metaphor for the unreal atmosphere and the crowd that made up the majority of our fellow diners. But the food was excellent, and it was certainly an interesting social experiment and experience so I am extremely glad we went. A word of warning though, if you want to try if for yourselves…talk to your bank manager, as it can get a little expensive. Or else find a sugar daddy; that’s what everyone else seemed to have done.

Mr Goldman

Mr Goldman and the Streets of London

10. November 2010 in Travel by Jared

Jared London 2Last weekend Mr Goldman and four former Circus staff members Sean, Theo, Robin and Nate, accompanied by the Circus football team’s temperamental midfield maestro Tommy Tumbleweed, headed to London to watch the big American Football game…

Nate Dog is a hardcore 49ers fan, and when he found out eight months ago that they would be playing in London, it was not only clear that he had to go, but that he was going to take a lot of us with him. Usually it is hard when you try and plan things so far in advance, but somehow it all worked out and we all not only made the trip, but survived.

It all began on Friday morning at an hour nobody should be expected to wake up. We came together on the S-Bahn along the way to the airport. At security we ran into an old friend Foxy…and I was not sure if I was hallucinating or if it was real. If you know Foxy then you might imagine my surprise at his sudden appearance so early in the morning. Normally he is up on the bar with his shirt off.

Jared London 3In London Tommy had set us up with a cab to take us to Marlow, a small town not far from London. This is where Tommy grew up, and he took us for a beautiful walk around the place. The trees especially were amazingly picturesque, and the colours indescribable. We also saw the field where the England football team trains.

We then went for lunch in a local pub, where the ceilings were the perfect height for me, but less so for the others who had to pay attention to where they were walking. We had a great lunch and a beer that Tommy recommended, brewed right there in Marlow.

In the evening we went for some Mexican food at a place where we told them it was Tommy’s birthday in the hope of getting some free drinks. In the end they did make him wear a stupid hat and had the whole bar sing happy birthday for him, but we actually think they cranked the dinner price up…so they got the last laugh. After dinner we checked out another pub for a couple more drinks before bed.

The next day we got up early for some bacon and egg butties and headed to the train station for the journey into London. After dropping our bags it was time for a bad dash around the sights, including tea at the Queen’s place. Unfortunately, at Downing Street, the Prime Minister was unable to keep his appointment as he was apparently double-booked. Instead we had a wander around the Houses of Parliament and walked along the river until we came to the food market, where it was time for oysters, pies and some pints of beer.

Jared London 1More beers followed (BYOB) as we waited for an hour at a Pakistani restaurant but it was worth the wait…this was one of the best restaurants we have ever been to, especially the fish and the lamb chops. After the meal it was back to the hostel to get an early night, ready for the big day.

We spent the morning at Camden Market for a bit of shopping, and then to the pub to warm up for the main event. We were greeted at Wembley by an amazing scene, both the stadium of the fans, and we also had a great time watching the game, helping Wembley pay off their building debts with our “contributions” to the beer stands. The game itself picked up in the 3rd quarter, and to Nate’s enduring happiness (and the good mood of the group) the 49ers got some lucky breaks and won.

Feeling good we headed back to the hostel and stayed up until they kicked us out of the pub and sent us to bed. The alarm on Monday morning sounded alarmingly quickly, and with a bit of a hangover and fuelled with a full English breakfast we had just enough energy for a bit more sightseeing, recovery aided by a few beers and some fish and chips along the way.

It was a great weekend, exploring Marlow and London Town, and a big thanks to Tommy for sharing it with us and to Matty for showing us the best restaurant I have ever been to…and thanks to the rest of the guys for hanging out and having a good time.

Till the next trip,

Mr Goldman

Letter from Srebrenica

15. Oktober 2010 in Travel by Jared

(Part three from Jared’s trip to Bosnia)

As I mentioned in one of my previous blogs, I have been reading a book about the search for Radovan, in which the author spends 6 years trying to track him down before finally coming face to face with him through the glass at the Hague. This is kind of how I feel about my trip. I came face to face with something that I still don’t understand but feel I will leave better informed than when I arrived. That is all I can ask for. I came on the search for information and I found various levels of information that will keep my mind replaying different conversations I had with people and the feelings that I experienced this time around.

On Tuesday I woke up with a small hang over heading to the Europe Hotel to meet my guide for the day. As I tried to enter the hotel I noticed a very large police presence. This is not uncommon for this hotel so I didn’t think much about till I tried to enter and realized that the place was full for security and even had a metal detector.

I thought for sure my guide would not be inside waiting for me so I placed myself directly across the street expecting him to sweep me up in the car. As I was waiting I realized more and more guys coming out in the street with ear pieces, and there were many large black men also dressed in suits and wearing sunglasses. I knew they were American judging from their accents and thought ok somebody slightly important must be coming out.

To my surprise I saw Mrs. Hillary Clinton walk out of the hotel, waving at nobody because I was the only person standing outside with any interest.  My hangover dissipated and shock came over me. Since was not expecting that and I was close enough to have touched her.

After she peeled out of the hotel I got enough guts to enter and found my guide drinking coffee and smoking and he said I have been waiting since 8:45 for you. I explained to him that I didn’t really think they would let me in to the hotel since Hillary just came out. He told me no problem they all know me here. I know all the security, I just walked right in.

We found our driver and headed off to the city of Srebrenica. We had a long drive but I had prepared some questions and we talked about hours about everything that came to my mind.

We arrived in the city and headed straight to the hotel I stayed at 3 or 4 years ago where the owner speaks good German and is a famous chef and people come from all around to his place. I couldn’t believe I was back at this place and told him that I  just read about his restaurant in a book. He offered us a table and we quickly realized we were not the only guests he was waiting for. There was a large table already set for a  luncheon. There were lots of questions exchanged but there seemed to be a lot of hush hush. According to my translator nobody was allowed to say who was coming. I think they all knew it might have been Hillary or surely part of her delegation.

We had a beer and a fabulously prepared meal of veal, chips and some kind of vegetables that were unrecognizable. Just after my after-meal ciggie and with my beer not finished my driver and guide jumped up and said lets go! The next thing is that again big American-looking dude started pulling up in cars, radios were going off and everyone was looking at me very suspiciously. But I had to go to the toilet and my guide said go ahead. I had one of those moments where I could hear more and more agents coming in and I felt like the scene in the god father when he goes to the toilet to find the hidden gun. I managed under extreme pressure to finish my business and as I came out I was escorted by my guide and driver.

I felt like I really had my own security and later in the day I found out that I did!

We had a bit of  walk around the town went up into the hill and drank from a fountain that may have silver in it. The town used to be very wealthy with a health spa and the water is meant to be very good for you.

We then started with the darker part of the tour and that was stopping at the football stadium where nobody plays. Around 200-300 hundred Muslims were killed in this stadium. At this time the hair on my neck started to rise and after a pleasant car ride, decent lunch, I suddenly felt an overwhelming sadness. I had tried to prepare for this but I don’t think its possible.

After that moment the rest of day changed, conversation was kept to a minimum, my guide seemed to be quiet, not talking, and a bit angry and disturbed.

Next we went to the barracks of the UN troops from Holland. This was the spot that you can see on TV footage of 1000s of people waiting outside to try and get in. The walls still had the graffiti left on it from naked girls, calenders with the days marked out, and Harley Davidson eagles.

I was then shown a movie made by British women about the area, the accounts of wives about the last time they saw their husband or children, and scenes from the mass graves. This again put a huge weight on my chest and as I walked past photos of the men trying to escape to the hills I no longer had a voice. I was introduced to a guy who is in charge of the museum and my guide said, ask questions he has the answers, but I was still in a state of shock and tried to speak but could no longer find a voice.

I was taken to the museum which is now in the hanger or a factory where 5000 people were let in. This is the spot where women were having babies, the elderly were dying and because some people knew their fate around 12 men committed suicide. The guide gave me the history of the place let me walk around looking at the history of the town and in the end there is a well presented exhibition on different stories from people that had lived in the town and disappeared and part of them and their belongings had been found in mass graves.

In the exhibition  there were belongings and again to see the wedding ring of a man or a young child’s bracelet spun my head out thinking of what those people went through. There is something about seeing their objects that brings reality a bit closer to home.

I walked outside with my guide still absolute silent and we walked across the street to the cemetery and memorial. The one that Bill Clinton inaugurated.

My guide in silence looking at the names showing me the members of his clan on the white marble with all the names. He was also looking to see if any had been crossed out since some people in the end were still alive.

He then took one of my cigarettes and when I turned around he was gone. He had vanished! I was left lonely surrounded by white grave stones that seemed to go on and on forever. I felt a bit better for some reason that at least these families found their love ones and they could lay them to rest. What about all the people still out there that have not been found yet?

I walked around for a half hour had my final look and headed back to the car. My guide said in his great accent “lez go home”. On the drive back nobody talked. For at least an hour and half no one spoke. My naive questions and my search for knowledge that I had been planning for hours the night before all seemed so stupid and I could only reflect on what I had seen and felt.

We arrived back to the hotel and attached was the Vienna cafe inside, my body ached from being in car all day. My spirit shattered and I was in desperate need of a beer.

This broke the ice with my guide and we continued to talk about a lot of different things when he started to reveal stories about what he did in the war and the rations that he sold on the side, and then he started talking about his friends before and after the war. As he described that many of them no more get along the beers kicked in and he started to shed tears. He kept saying I am sorry, I am sorry. I of course told him that there was no need to be sorry and that everyone is allowed to be sad.

He jumped up in his chair now stone cold sober and said yes you are right. He started laughing and thanked me because he had never thought about his. He said he  must write this in international law. that everybody in the world has the right to be sad. He mentioned what a paradox that you can’t know what sadness is without knowing what happiness is.

This really made his day and it made mine as well since I seemed to have helped him discover something he had never thought about. On this note we said our good byes and he disappeared into the dark corners of his mind somewhere in Sarajevo.

Like the guy in the book I came on this trip on the search to find something. I am still not certain what I have found but I have found somethings that I certainly wont forget.

Sharing Food in Sarajevo

11. Oktober 2010 in Travel by Jared

(The second blog from Jared’s trip to Sarajevo…)

Friday was my first real day in the city, having finally had a good nights rest. It began with me writing the first blog entry, and ended up again in my favourite pub with the new books I invested in. The great thing about arriving in a city that you already know is that there is less pressure to try and see everything, and you have a bit more freedom to relax and explore other avenues.

As I was sitting in the pub reading and having my breakfast, I thought I recognised one of the students that I met last year. At first I was convinced that my eyes were playing tricks on me, but low and behold, it was the same person. We had a small chat, which I think he found a little uncomfortable as he had not spoken English for a year.

I headed back to my hotel to drop off my books, and my mouth was watering for those little sausages that I mentioned in the first blog. But before I could get back out on the street, the owners of the hotel invited me for a small lunch of freshly-made borek. It is really good here in the shops, but this one was even better, and you could really taste the love that went into making it.

After a short nap, I headed out to services at the Jewish synagogue. I arrived early and so sat in the waiting room with two guys no doubt wondering why I was there. Everyone was smoking, and it seems that here even the holy places are not holy enough that smoking is forbidden. After a quick ciggie, we were ushered upstairs with about eight me into the main synagogue. The service was short but sweet, and I couldn’t help wishing that they had been that way when I was a kid. Afterwards I was invited for an egg, some bread and fried cheese, and a glass of wine.

It was the second time that day that I had been taken in by strangers and invited to share something as special and important as food.

Since the service had been quicker than I expected, I headed out into the city in search of somewhere that was showing the European qualifiers between Bosnia and Albania. I found a small bar with a mixed crowd of girls sipping cocktails and men drinking beer and watched the game. I met up with another friend from last year, and after the game he took me to the twisted tower. This is the largest building in Sarajevo, with a view that cannot be beaten. These are the type of buildings that every good traveller should collect, such as the TV Tower in Berlin, or the tower in Sydney. From up there it was not only an amazing view, but it was very clear how the city could have been attacked from the hills so easily during the war.

After the tower we headed to a Russian party, in a venue that is a cafe by day and a club by night. It was packed with people sipping on Heinekens and Red Bulls, and as my mojo was good I put on a little jig…I was with people I like and my mood good. At 1am the noise restrictions meant that the party had to shut down, but by then most of the people had already packed up and hone home. Obviously nobody wanted to be the last to leave. Not cool. I was still there to the bitter end…I guess I am just not cool ;-)

Letter from Sarajevo

8. Oktober 2010 in History, Travel by Jared

Jared is away at the moment, and is spending time in a place that is close to both our hearts: Sarajevo. The following is from an email he sent, that he agreed could be shared on the blog – Paul…

Its always a rush when I arrive into Sarajevo airport. I can’t imagine what kind of craziness took place there. The planes coming in with humanitarian aid and all the UN trucks whizzing from one end to other but never taking anybody out of the place. The tunnel just underneath that was the life line to the city. You could go out with empty bags but not full ones and come back with full ones loaded up stuff to sell on the black market.

I dropped my stuff off at a little hotel and headed straight for my favorite pub for a Sarajevo pivo. As many of you know I did a tour with guy who is the only licensed tour operator in Bosnia and specializes on history and the war. I have been trying to contact him for over a week but as I was drinking my last little beer I noticed him in the street just starting one of his history tours. Not but one hour into my trip.

I approached his tour and he told me he had just replied to my mail 5 minutes before and invited me on the tour and told me the group would pay for me. So I expected to have a relaxing day but ended up after two days on a bar convention and then waking up at 5 in the morning which is my normal bed time (so I only could sleep an hour the night before) on a history tour with guy that has so much to share.

So I was walking around the streets of Sarajevo with a bunch of people from different countries that do census work, a few of which got yelled at by the tour guide since one was a Serb and did not want to hear about any massacres that took place in the streets. My tour guide boldly told him that this man was now in his country and that he needs to listen to what he has to say, just as he will listen to what that man had to say. But the overwhelming proof of one of shells that was the second biggest massacre in the city has to be explained and that he also had to tell people about this. If they did not agree with him they could keep their money and he would finish the tour.

Anyway we ended up in the brewery of Sarajevo my guide chain smoking at table of course joined him and tried to get as much info out of him as possible. The other people paid for his time but did not have any questions? The tour guide likes questions, he can talk a hell of a lot but he likes debate and questions.

He filled my brain with so many things that 12 hours later I am still processing what the hell he was talking about.

I have spent my morning enjoying the smell of sausages being prepared for the lunch rush and have been to my favorite book shops where I have spent my hard earned wages on literature about the war, the massacre in Srebrenica, and a book on the search for Radovan.

All of this is in preparation for my tour on tuesday which I will be spending half of my rent to visit Srebenica with the above mentioned man. This will entail seeing the genicide museum, the memorial and the place of burial of almost 8000 muslims, the stadium where people were taken to and the warehouse where the German peace keepers graffitied the wall some with very radical images that no human should have drawn.

I have been assured we will visit some places where men and women were separated and then killed and have heard that their spirits are still there and I expect to be very emotional.

Why I am doing this? I don’t know! But there is something about this place and I feel very at home here, but at the same time there is something that I am chasing a mystique that I can’t quite put my finger on and that’s what keeps me going and I keep on searching.

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