Photo: Maharepa

Every February we Berliners fall over ourselves like gushing teenagers as Hollywood's A-List converges on the city for its annual patting-ourselves-on-the-back festival, otherwise known as the Berlinale. Gossip about celebrity sightings and festival party plans pass the long hours spent standing in impossibly long lines for overpriced tickets to films that one wouldn't even dream of seeing if they were screened any other month of the year.

Tilda Swinton

Last week, as I anxiously awaited a pair of tickets to a fascinating documentary on the complicated emotional life of Norwegian moose stalkers, I fell into a reverie, daydreaming of my favorite VIP at this year's Berlinale. Tilda Swinton - prize-winning actress, ice-queen, pale Scottish priestess of a parsimonious paradise - was heading up the jury this year, charged with deciding who should receive the festival's coveted Golden Bear.

I have enjoyed her work from her beginnings in such early films as Orlando to last year's riotous Coen Brother's film Burn After Reading. Tilda and I actually already have a relationship, as we once passed each other in the lobby of my gym a few years ago - she was leaving the ladies' locker room and I was heading in - to the men's.

Honigmond

Thus it's completely reasonable that I began planning how I would entertain her on a magical evening in Berlin. Of course, since I am a very busy man (and Tilda probably has a few things to get done too) we would have to meet up after I make it home from work and feed my cat. Dinner and a movie is the usual thing these days, so after meeting at her hotel (don't ask which - it's top secret!) we would hop the U-Bahn for a few stops and grab at table at Honigmond.

With their healthy modern approach to traditional German cuisine, Honigmond (that's German for Honeymoon - get it?) on Tieckstrasse 12 is popular with visitors and locals alike. They also serve some delicious cabbage dishes which I am sure Tilda will love, being from Scotland and all. Over our candlelit meal I will amuse and titillate her with tales of my misbehaving cat and nosy neighbors.

Kauf dich Glucklich

A spot of coffee and a cookie after dinner always hits the spot, so on our way to the cinema Tilda and I could stop by Kauf dich Glucklich. Part cafe, part kitschy toyshop, KdG on Oderberger Strasse 44 appeals equally to P-Berg's grabby toddlers and hipsters just trying to satisfy a sweet tooth. The coffee is served up piping hot alongside homemade waffles and fresh scooped ice cream (Scots eat ice cream don't they?).

Photo: Ernae

Now that Tilda and I are all caffeinated and sweet on each other it's time to settle into our seats in front of the silver screen. Where to take a woman who has probably forgotten more about movies than I'll ever know? The tiny Lichtblick Kino. With barely more than a dozen seats and a well curated program of modern and classic cinema Lichtblick on Kastanienallee 77 turns a night out at the movies into an intimate encounter with cinema's greats. And I'll grab seats in the back row, so even if Ingmar Bergman is a bore, our intimate encounter is guaranteed.

Berlin by night Photo: Tillwe

The film credits roll and the lights come up - Tilda and I glide out of the theater gazing deeply into each other's eyes. She starts to hail a cab but I suggest we savor the Berlin night and walk back. Her lips are warm despite February's chill as we share a kiss in front of her hotel and her eyes plead with me to come up to her sumptuous penthouse suite for a nightcap. I smile gently and shake my head. Let us leave this evening as perfect as it is Tilda, it would never work out between us. After all, you're Scottish, and I need to get home to feed my cat.