We find ourselves in the strangest places...

The first time I saw him was on a cold Berlin morning, un-caffeinated and freezing in clothes betraying warmer-climates. In the lobby of a cheap hostel in Prenzlauer Berg, he stood; six foot tall and dressed formidably in black, Manchester accent ever so slightly mocking as he asked if we ready for the walking city tour.

I was exhausted as only Berlin can make a person. The sun's brightness flooding over the transgressions of the night before. Sleepless and shaky but soul stretched out into the potential of this city. Standing there...he could see it all in my face.

That morning he revealed the city to me, step by step through the eyes of a practiced tour guide. I could almost breathe the history it hangs so solidly, like gravity in the air. Museum Island, Friedrichstraße, the Brandenburg Gates. Walking so long our feet hurt, freezing to the core tramping all over this anguished city, he leads us along his so-familiar path; explaining, describing, joking, reminiscing over the many moments which give the city life.

And him? Displaced from his own home country, he joins the hundreds of wandering souls who find themselves drawn here for days, weeks, years. The time lived here, he tells us, is counted by the number of winters spent.

We became friends, negotiated over a coffee. Like chipping away at a pavement block, over time, we learned the city together. Braved the weather to see her dressed in every season; the lush green of Hasenheide Park in summer, and the cold, bare cobblestones at 5 a.m. , under swirling snow in winter. Conquered it night by night in tiny, candlelit hole-in-the wall bars.

I had never met someone so taken with a city, as he was. His bookshelves stacked, packed with history. World wars, stories, recounts. Books passed on from mentor to apprentice, to discover one insight more.

Now, dressed every day in uniform black, big boots, overcoat, winter hat; he greets people from every country on earth, all walks of life, to spend a day walking around the city he calls home. Sharing in all its multi-faceted nature, because it is a city which is meant to be shared.

The first time I saw him, he was just another face in a room full of unfamiliar faces. Now, he has become a part of my Berlin.