Ich heisse Daniel und ich bin dreiundzwanzig Jahre alt

The minute I found out I'd be moving to Weimar I regretted giving up German after my Junior Cert. What was I thinking picking chemistry instead?

The programme is for international volunteers and prior knowledge of German isn't a necessity, but acceptance came with the understanding that I would do my best to learn as much German as possible before I set off.

Once I had got my finals out of the way, I sat down with 'Teach Yourself German', a book released in the 1930s that my dad had used a few years ago. Modern language books are all about interactivity and buying train tickets, but this one is unashamedly boring. Each section begins with a completely inadequate description of a particular aspect of German grammar (and anybody who has ever studied German knows that there are a LOT of them) and then gives you about twenty sentences to translate in each direction, using your almost-acquired new skills.

And it's absolutely brilliant. In no time at all I was translating complicated sentences about the child's uncle selling books to sailors and maidens from his shop by the beach. Knowing the ins and outs of the genitive case was all well and good of course, but I did also have to learn how to actually speak German so I enrolled in a course in the German cultural institute in Dublin, the Goethe Institut.

I spent three evenings a week for four weeks at the Institut and couldn't believe how much I learnt in such a short time. The two teachers I had were both excellent. They were native speakers and worked to make the classes as relevant and fun as possible, all the while focusing on getting us over the biggest hurdle faced by anyone learning a new language: making actual sounds come out of your mouth.

After my course I set off to Weimar in July delighted with myself and my new ability to speak German. I was going over for a two-week summer camp organised by ASF in Buchenwald - it's a sort of very condensed version of what I'm doing now. The main reason I went was to get a bit of practice in German before I moved over, but I immediately fell into the English-speaker's trap: I spoke English the entire time because everybody around me spoke it far better than I could speak German. Suddenly my pre-fabricated sentences about my family weren't as impressive as people from Germany who could watch 'Friends' in English without subtitles.

This was quite disappointing and I was determined not to let it happen again, so I decided that from the moment I landed in September Gearmánais briste would have to be better than Béarla cliste.