You'd be forgiven for thinking that Stansted is a quiet little airport just outside London which no-one uses. And that Berlin is an inhospitable, cold place to visit. And that stag parties involve strippers and handcuffs...

Forgiven, but entirely wrong.

Stansted is anything but quiet at 5 o'clock on a Saturday morning. The rush hour is obviously between 4 and 6 in the morning as the £1.50 saver flights are packed to capacity. Lucky for us, then, that no-one was late. We checked in and headed off to explore Berlin in celebration of Nick's imminent marriage to the lovely Lisa (who, incidentally, was having her own knees up at the slightly more local city of Bristol).

Although the hotel was in the middle of East Berlin, and East Berlin is still struggling to recover since the fall of the wall, the rooms were absolutely fine - although most of us probably wished we had a few more hours in those beds before Monday morning was upon us.

So did Nick end up at a club where they encourage open sex and where the dress-code is strictly rubber and leather? Of course not. He's not that kind of boy. And anyway, the bouncer wouldn't let us in...