I’ve been to Berlin. Went 2 years ago. Totally brilliant city. More interesting than Romford, more beautiful than Wigan, more history than Milton Keynes, better vibe than Aberdeen and Wandsworth combined. That good. More than good; wonderful.

But that’s not why we’re here again. This isn’t just a ‘weekend break’, nor a ‘city mini-holiday’, no. Neither. We’re here this time on a serious mission. To unload a daughter over here on a semi-permanent basis as from January. Therefore we need to either find her suitable accommodation or otherwise register her for a refugee camp. Whatever’s cheaper.

So if you saw me in a Prius at 5.30 this morning and thought I was returning from ‘another wild night on the tiles’, I wasn’t. I was on my way to City Airport. The nicest of all London’s airports because its only little. It has little planes, therefore little numbers of passengers, little rooms there and its so small it only has 9 coffee shops. Passengers basically get one each.

Rachie’s off to Germany. If she wasn’t she’d have still been in her old office in Oxford Circus yesterday to face the MASSIVE EMERGENCY!!!!!!! situation that closed half of the West End yesterday afternoon. Her old colleagues were locked in on police orders, as were half of those unfortunate to be in that area. The other half (those in Selfridges, for some weird reason), were ordered to evacuate the building. Thus adding to the immediate and immense panic and chaos that was occurring.

Was this another terrorist attack? Armed robbery?? A riot??? No, it was worse. It was London’s, possibly the world’s first ever Social Media attack. Because nothing happened. Nothing was happening, nothing did happen, nothing was going to happen. But someone (not saying who, because if I did you might go round and kill him/her before I get there) ‘thought they heard gunshots’. That was it? A ‘that-sounded-like-gunfire’ situation, possibly.

We’re brave us Londoners. Fuckin’ heroic to a man/woman/thing (gotta be careful these days). Or we pretend to be. Whereas in reality we’re living on the edge. Running scared. On a hair-trigger. Its impossible not to be, to some extent. Don’t think about it for 99% of the time and then one little BANG!!!! and your mind is on Westminster Bridge, Manchester Arena, London Bridge. How can you not?

Thus yesterday did panic ensue. But mainly because a couple of ‘celebs’ tweeted the third-hand speculative comment about gunshots. And celebs, however pathetically inadequate and limp-brained they are, have billions of ‘followers’. More than Jesus did when he won X-Factor. And thus dids’t the panic get retweeted and within minutes there were 17 battalions of police, Marines, SAS, Mossad, FBI and SWAT teams that we don’t even have in Britain. All there, armed to the teeth, ready for…

For nothing. Thankfully nothing, it must be said, but how much of it was really necessary? If ever you wanted a ‘decoy’ for something serious, you know what to do.

Safer in Berlin. I hope.

Happy Saturday

A xxxx