Vindication! I know there will be many of you doubting my "the passport was definitely in the envelope" assertions but yesterday I received another call from the consulate to say that my old passport had arrived in Düsseldorf.

"What do you mean, arrived?"

"It seems the Deutsche Post found it and sent it to us."

Deustche Post! I knew they had it - the undercover Händelstrasse terrorists must have given themselves up.

"So we won't be using your lost-passport form."

"Ok, well that's good news. When do you think my new passport will be ready?"


"This time next year."

Ok, not really, but it might as well be. It's fortunate that I like Germany but a concern that began to emerge from the back of my mind, pausing for a few weeks somewhere in the central region before meandering its idle way to the inner edge, and is now firmly planted at the forefront and urgently tapping at my skull just behind the eyeballs, is my hair.

There are some things in life that I believe should not be attempted in a foreign tongue and a foreign country: witty remarks to policemen, innocent late-night conversation with the friendly ladies by the train station, and arguments with customs officials are a few examples, and another, is haircuts.

I will not be going to England for a while; my hair is aware of this and yet continues to resolutely grow, defying my commands to stay put until I can next go to the hairdresser. Because of this, the time has come for my first German haircut, a sentence I would not have believed it ever necessary for me to say but which I mentioned to Brid last week:

"Where do you get your hair done, Brid?"

"Oh I wouldn't go there, they're not very good. I always have to fight hard to stop them giving me a mullet. I've got the number though, one second, let me find it..."

"Er, no thanks. Maybe I'll ask Mary."

Worryingly, the mullet is indeed a very popular hairstyle among the teenage population of Baden-Wurttemburg in particular. I have no idea why (it looks as bad as ever) and I have no desire to go native in that respect. I tried Mary (update: she loves 24 - a new recruit!):

"Mary, I need a haircut."

"A haircut? Well, I'll do my best Soph but I should warn you, I'm not trained or anything."

We are going to Heidelberg on Saturday - wish me glück!