I grew up during the cold war in Europe.

Under the constant pressure of collective fear of nuclear war. The constant subconscious knowing there is a long border one cannot cross. Behind that fence normal life is oppressed, the stores void of choice, the people grey, the cars smelly.

As a student, I travelled the long "corridor" highway with sealed exists that led to West Berlin. Crossed over to the East, passed through a highly militarised checkpoint, mirrors under the bus, young pale far too serious looking officers checking every passport, dogs waiting, the obligatory guide who had to carefully weigh every word she said, the obligatory conversion of German Marks into Eastern ones at the official exchange rate of 1:1. But if you needed more 1:10 on the black market.

I remember too being allocated a seat in a restaurant, one by one all the members of my group dispersed, surrounded by strangers. It felt totally weird. But there we did meet some young people and ended up dancing to Nina Hagen (forbidden) in a secret well-hidden disco: a warehouse door that opened for 5 minutes and then shut for the rest of the evening.

Sur- or rather unreal, Kafkaesque, dream-state, threatening, scary, but to live there degrading, worst of all without much hope for a better future...

Then out of nothing all of a sudden it ended.

I remember the first free Polish youngsters hitchhiking their way across Europe to find better-paid work. Giving them a lift, sharing my house with them, because I knew how terribly expensive everything in my country was for them. I remember walking the streets of Amsterdam, hearing a whole new gamma of languages being spoken. Now I was able to travel freely East to visit lots of new places and interesting cities.

It's so hard to explain how deeply liberating the end of the cold war felt. A huge weight lifted off all of our shoulders.

My deepest and sincere gratitude to Mikhail Gorbachev for ending this madness. And my loathing to all that want to take us back there.

Nie wieder ("Never again")