The Violinist

The snow began to fall as I left work this evening in Berlin. It was almost dark as the taxi pulled away to return me to the hotel, and as I sank back into the leather seat, I sighed a long, releasing, peaceful breath. I watched as the miniature flakes landed and then rolled off the black paintwork of the car, where the window joined metal. I was tired, exhausted from my long day, but ultimately happy - pleased with my position in life and all that came with it.

Back at the hotel I spent 3 hours in the pool and sauna and marveled at the crystalline room. Pearlescent tiles of blue and green lined the benches that were curved and arched to follow every contour of the body whilst the steam leached around my form. Menthol oil in the hot air collected around my nostrils and cleared my senses with every breath, the coolness of the taste in my mouth a stark contrast to the 45-degree heat of the steam. A large green glass pyramid, lit from underneath, cut through the haze in the centre of the room. Outside this room a glass bowl was mounted on the wall containing thousands of ice crystals. I collected as many as I could in cupped hands and let the ice melt against my face, washing away all traces of salty sweat and menthol oil. Then time to shower. Giant showerheads meant I felt as though I stood in a rainstorm. A press of a green button began a mist of water backlit by green neon. A press of the blue button and the downward force of the water nearly pinned me to the floor whilst a blue light only heightened the experience.

After a sumptuous dinner in my room and a movie, I decided to go for a walk to clear my fuzzy head before bed. It was 10.30pm when I left the hotel and headed toward the Gendarmenmarkt Square. I was staying near the Opera house which is situated in the historic centre of Berlin. The Opera house sits in an old square and either side there are two domed churches; a French dome and a German dome. They're pasted with gold; the marble statues and huge grand columns are formidable. The square has beautiful old-fashioned lights that gave out a gentle ghostly glow on the snow. The countless steps up to the opera house seem to go right on up to heaven.

The air was so still, everything was quiet, and there was hardly anyone around. As I walked around the side of the French Dome, out from the line of trees and into the open area, I could hear the sound of a violin drifting on the air. A man in a big warm trench coat stood in the middle of the square, in the still night, playing beautifully melancholy songs. People walking, lovers, an old woman in big boots making her way home, students and cyclists all stopped to hear him and in total silence we all stood and just soaked in the moment - everyone peaceful, everyone smiling.

I breathed the deepest breath as though the tunes would go through my lungs into my very soul and I felt so blissfully alive in that moment. It was as though the universe had picked out that tiny square in Berlin and had decided to fill it with all the magic it had in its pocket. It touched me so deeply. I emptied all the change I had into his case, about 15 euro, and thought how it was the best money I had spent in a very, very long time.