Berlin 11/13-11/15

Berlin is like Disneyland. There’s always something going on. There’s always something crazy to do. Something good to eat. A new drink to try. Berlin was one of my favorite cities and is at the top of my list for when I get back to Europe, which is soon hopefully.

I left Florence early Friday morning to take the train to Bologna. I didn’t know it at the time, but this would be my last trip getting to take the train, my beloved Frecciarossa. Had I known that, I might’ve splurged and upgraded to Executive class.

[Since I’m so behind on these posts, I’ve now been back in America for three weeks and took Southern California’s train system, Amtrak’s Pacific Surfliner, back from Los Angeles the other day. It just wasn’t as nice. It wasn’t as fun. The seats were big, it was comfortable, and there were power outlets. Unlike in Italy, they actually do come around and check tickets. Italy has figured out that to make trains run faster, you have to eliminate stops: double tracks are everywhere, so you don’t have to wait for a train to pass you; stations are less frequent on the high-speed routes; tracks don’t cross residential streets all the time, keeping the trains at high speed without worry of hitting people.]

At the Bologna Centrale station, a gypsy took a few Euros from me as I bought my bus ticket. The bus, a cramped and sweaty 30-minute ride, dropped me off right at the airport. RyanAir’s check in procedure requires you to go to a separate desk just to get my passport checked and a stamp on my ticket. This caused a bit of extra anxiety — the less people that have to see my carry-on the better. The bag I travelled with is not particularly large or excessive. It’s an American carry-on and I bring it with me everywhere. But in Europe, it barely barely barely passes for a carry-on. Thus, if I can get it all the way to the gate and then out to the aircraft without having to put it in one of those boxes to check the size, then I’m alright.

I got through security no problem. At Bologna it’s all automated. You put your ticket on a scanner, then your passport. The glass door slides open and you pass the first area. This happens a couple times more and you’re into the terminal. But — this is a big one — most of the food at the Bologna airport is before security! I’m not sure whose dumb idea this was, but I like to get through security and then sit down and have lunch and buy a water.

I cleared security no problem and was pleased to find no line to board, meaning I could go grab some food before queueing up. Quickly, I grabbed a snack and went to the bathroom. I was gone not even 10 minutes. I came back to find a huuuuge line. I ended up waiting to board behind a nice Florentine couple. We talked for awhile and when there was an issue with the man behind us waiting in the wrong line, an elderly couple next to us was surprised to find that I understood the entire conversation. We then proceeded to discuss the weather — “you think it’s cold here?? it’s cold in Berlin!” Since we were on a flight to Germany and I’m blonde and blue-eyed, they later asked if I was German. I took it as a compliment.

This was my first, and thankfully last, time on RyanAir. The seats are tiny and cramped. RyanAir is so cheap they don’t have the safety cards — they’re literally printed on to the seatbacks. See below for a picture.

The 90 minute flight into Berlin Schoenefeld was quick and uneventful. The only problem though, because this was the airport for the budget airlines, was that I was a solid hour away from the city still. I had to take a bus to a U-Bahn station, and then take the U-Bahn approximately 32 stops into the city. This managed to take even longer because the busses were running a special schedule and I purposefully did not board the first few, which ended up being the right bus.

We had booked our stay through HostelWorld, very much under the impression that we would be staying in a private room at a hostel. Upon arrival, our suspicions had been confirmed. It was very much a hotel. In hindsight, we hadn’t picked the best place. It was close to two different U-Bahn stops with different lines. But it was a pain in the ass to get anywhere — it was at least two different trains anywhere and we weren’t as close to the city center as we thought.

On my way from the U-Bahn to the hotel I stopped in a grocery store for another snack. By now it was dark and nearly 7pm. I was hungry. I picked up some actual pretzels (we only had way-too-long pretzel sticks in Florence) and an AriZona lemon iced tea! We’d seen a few other AriZona teas around Europe, but never a lemon one! It tasted like California. It was very refreshing.

Callie arrived at the hotel just a few minutes after I did and we left quickly to get to dinner. Our plan was to check out the KaDeWe mall’s food court. KaDeWe is the largest department store in Europe. It also closed very early, even on Fridays, so we had to move quick.

Just a few stops on the U-Bahn to Wittenbergplatz and we were there. Right outside the station was a Mexican chain called Dolores. I had read about it before — it wasn’t supposed to be that good, but they had burritos. I wanted to go in anyways though; I had seen pictures of the wallpaper and I needed to go in. What were these important wallpapers? A big map of the Mission District in San Francisco. The cashier was confused as to why I was taking pictures of the wall. He was excited to learn that this is where I go to school. I pointed out Dolores Park and Papalote on 24th & Valencia (where we go for burritos back home.) I wasn’t homesick but it definitely made me miss San Francisco just a little bit.

Across the street from KaDeWe (it’s an abbreviation for a very long German name) was Idee, a design store. Callie and I probably spent more time there than we should have, but it was a really neat place. All sorts of crafts, tools, ideas. If our art supply stores were like this I would be there all the time! We ended up taking the free pencils with their logo on it before walking over to the mall next door.

We spent a little while shopping, which was a mistake. By the time we got way up the food court — I believe it was on the 8th floor — none of the stalls were open. Burgers? Nope. Italian? Nope. Everything else? Nope. I think we managed to get a couple of pastries. Our only real food option was to do to the big buffet. It didn’t look that great, but neither did a German burrito chain.

I went easy on the buffet and only got a few things for maybe 10-Euros. Callie thought every item was the same, but you had to pay by weight at the end. You did pay by weight. But not every item was created equal. By combining a few things — a salmon and pasta with a few sides of veggies — somehow came out to be over 40-Euros. From a buffet. At a mall. Was the food any good? No.

At that point, the mall was closing and we had to leave. We took the U-Bahn back to the hotel, where we started to get the first breaking news alerts on my phone about Paris. Shooting at a restaurant — explosions at the soccer game — hostage situation in downtown. News came in bits and pieces, none of it making sense. What the hell was going in? We called a bunch of friends and family and found out that luckily we didn’t know anyone in Paris. We proceeded on with our night.

First we took a U-Bahn train, then an S-Bahn. The U-Bahns are mostly underground, while the S-Bahns are mainly above ground. Berlin’s public transportation is excellent. Everything is quick, clean, on-time and very efficient. Our first stop was a bar that looked cool on Yelp. We knew it had a view, so it would be high up. We walked up from the train platform to find a few tall buildings nearby — one had colored lights coming out of a top-floor window. No way, we thought. We wouldn’t have picked a bar like this. Turns out, we did.

The entrance wasn’t easy to find either. There was a sign on the door that was very explicit — don’t open it, we’ll get it for you. We figured we had no chance of getting in. To our shock, they opened the door, asked if we wanted drinks (of course we did), took our coats, and sent us up in the private elevator. We were definitely the only people there under 30, if not 35. For the second time that night, we had screwed up our timing. We had to finish our drinks quick and get out of there as our next stop closed at 1am and we wanted a full hour there. We should’ve gone for drinks after, as the bar was open until 4am.

Our next stop was the infamous Liquidrom Spa. Recommended to us by many, we knew we had to try it. The best part of the Liquidrom is the saltwater pool. It’s in a big dome with lots of peaceful, dimly-lit but brightly-colored lights. The underwater speakers pump out relaxing music once your ears get below the water level. Some nights are themed music, other nights audiobooks are played. I could’ve lay there floating for hours. It was wonderful. No phones. No conversations. Just peace. Stillness. We hopped in the outdoor jacuzzi for a bit but it wasn’t as hot as it should’ve been. Apparently there were ice baths for our feet too, but we missed them. Our friends went the next night and evidently had an even better time than us. We went back for a final dip in the pool before being asked to head back to the lockers and make our way out. We really should have gotten there early and spent the full 2-hours that we had paid for. But we’ll be back there for sure.

On our way to the next U-Bahn, more info started coming through from Paris. At that point it wasn’t public that it was the Islamic State, so we had nothing to fear riding the subway in Berlin. Berlin trains are unique in that anyone can get on the platform, with or without a ticket. The ticket machines are on the platform and are apparently checked often by plainclothes officers on the train. Each day we bought a day-pass, good until 4am the next night — a great option considering the nightlife in Berlin.

But the train stations aren’t just for getting on and off the train. In the stations, and on the platforms, are stands. Coffee. Donuts. Pastries. Magazines. We never saw it, but apparently some stations are used as pop-up clubs or even small restaurants!

We bought little bundt cakes covered in sprinkles (see below) and devoured them on the platform waiting for the train. They were delicious. We ended up staying up until 3am reading about Paris and talking with our friends in other countries trying to make sense of what was happening.

Berlin is a very livable city. It was easy to get around. Signs were legible. Information was easily found on anything. Even with the ten words of German that we spoke we had no problems at all. I’d love to get back there. This past season of Homeland was set entirely in Berlin (with a brief half episode in the beautiful Amsterdam) and it was so exciting to watch because everything was so familiar! The show was off on one thing: they featured the same amount of Mercedes, BMWs and Audis. During our trip we saw probably 50% Mercedes, 20% BMW, 20% Audi, a few VW and then the rest mixed.

Our next day began later than we had wanted to and immediately we had to cross a few things off of our list for the day. The original plan had us going a little bit backwards to see Checkpoint Charlie — not anymore! We started off taking the U-Bahn over to Brandenburg Gate. What we didn’t know was that it was right next to the French Embassy. There was a huge crowd gathered laying flowers and handwritten signs of peace, news crews and people of all ethnicities. It was really beautiful to see and we walked around nearby in attempt to find some flowers to bring. We couldn’t find any and had to move on with our day.

Next was the Holocaust Memorial, a neat area of gray rectangular boxes of varying heights. We were disappointed by the large numbers of tourists (mainly female) posing inappropriately for pictures here: standing on the monuments, smiling, trying to get cute selfies. This is not the place for that.

At this point we were freezing and had to get on with our day to our next destination. I stupidly had forgotten my gloves in Florence and ended up buying a pretty decent pair for not even 10-Euros. The best part? They had those special fingertips that let me use my phone while wearing them! Perfect for those 40-degree mornings in Berlin.

After waiting too long for a bus that never came, we took the U-Bahn into Mitte, the city center. A neat area with lots of cool shops, Mitte was a much more exciting place than the area we were staying in. We made our way over to the very hipster Father Carpenter Coffee Brewers. A nice chai latte and a pastry or two later we were on our way again. I spent awhile in the Adidas store with a really cool pair of sneakers. I checked online and they weren’t available in America, so I decided I would get them. After eventually getting the help of a salesperson, I was informed they did not have the color I wanted in my size. I was not going to buy a 100-Euro pair of all-turquoise shoes.

Customer service isn’t really a thing in most places in Europe. Because workers are paid a respectable and livable wage, they aren’t dependent on tips and commission. Thus, they can be an asshole to you, you won’t tip anyways, and they still get home with a nice chunk of cash. There’s no incentive to help the American boy trying to buy the cool sneakers. We sat there for much too long watching the employees chat with each other.

On our way to the Alexanderplatz station, Callie had us stop at Coffee Fellows for some food. I so clearly remembered seeing online that Father Carpenter had a nice brunch option, but when we got there, there was none. It turns out I had been thinking of Distrikt Coffee. There, my friends had an excellent avocado toast with a poached egg on top. Back at Coffee Fellows, I found some sort of chicken sandwich, nothing particularly exciting. Three meals so far in Berlin and none were any good.

While at Coffee Fellows, we were texting my friend Rachel from Florence. She was also in Berlin that weekend with another friend, and it turns out they were at Distrikt Coffee just a few blocks from us. We ended up meeting them at the East Side Gallery later, a largely intact section of the Berlin Wall covered in wonderful art and graffiti. This is where everyone (myself included) gets the stereotypical Berlin picture with the two politicians kissing on the wall.

We spent a while walking along the wall, admiring the years worth of graffiti. While standing around talking with Rachel and her friend, a girl walked by us with blue framed glasses. Instantly I recognized her as a friend from camp! I knew she was in Berlin that weekend but had zero expectations of actually seeing her. We chatted for a minute and then went our separate ways. There’s something fun about seeing people from home abroad.

The Chipotle in Paris was a big meeting point for American students. I didn’t go — I don’t care for Chipotle when I’m in America, so I really didn’t care for it in Europe — but I had many many many friends go. What’s amazing is that every single one of them ran into multiple friends of theirs at Chipotle. And almost none of these meetups were planned. You go to Chipotle in Paris, you run into people you went to high school with that you didn’t realize were abroad. It’s that simple. I think it’s hilarious, but it’s also really cool. It’s why I want to go to Europe for Spring Break, because I’ll have friends literally all over the continent that I could stay with for free.

The four us (Rachel, her friend, Callie and I) decided we’d go together to Hard Wax, a famous record store, that was supposed to be a quick S-Bahn away. On our way into Hard Wax, which is notorious for not being easy to find, we stumbled into a sort of secret tea shop. We met the couple who owned the place and spent a while chatting with them enjoying our tea, made fresh in their factory of sorts. ManuTeeFaktor. That’s the name. It took a bit of research online to find it this morning as I type this. The owner was Manu and his wife was a nice woman from Australia I believe.

It turns out that Hard Wax is an electronic music record store. We were there for probably a good half an hour and I struggled to find a single artist I knew. Struck with disappointment, we bought a t-shirt for a friend and headed out. We had a dinner reservation that we needed to make and we wanted to stop by our hotel and change first.

But, as always, we had to stop for a snack on the way. And there’s no better snack in Berlin than a subway station pastry. In this case, we had a soft pretzel — in the form of a baguette. We ended up with barely 10 minutes at the hotel to change and drop off our backpacks. We were back on the U-Bahn a few minutes later and off to our dinner reservation at the New York Times-recommended Fame Katerschmaus, which translates to something about cats and being hungover.

The entrance to the restaurant was hidden on a busy street under the raised train tracks. If you weren’t specifically looking for it, you’d never find your way in. We were taken to a nice table at the window, overlooking the Spree River.

They don’t have traditional printed menus at Fame. Instead, they had a few very large chalkboards that they brought around to each table while they sat down. First we were brought a nice bread with a zucchini dip. Next was a complimentary shot of something with vodka, fennel and pineapple — surprisingly delicious. I started with a salad with chunks of raw pumpkin and lots of seeds. I’ve never been a big pumpkin fan but it was an incredible salad with a nice sweet dressing. Probably the best salad I had in Europe. For my main course I had organic braised beef in a thick sauce. This was one of the few times I had red meat and it was so tender and delicious. We split sides of cauliflower and a potato dish, neither which were too memorable. All in all, with my glass of German white wine, our total was barely 40-Euro a person for a very nice dinner. I would eat here again; and I would highly recommend it to anyone looking for a nice dinner a bit off the beaten path (really just a 10 minute walk from the U-Bahn in a safe neighborhood.) The restaurant was also true to its cat inspired name, with cat artwork all over, including the bathroom wallpaper.

After dinner, we tried to find some good ice cream. We ended up at a gelato place in Mitte, just a half block from Father Carpenter — where we were earlier that day. Cuore Di Vetro. Of course we’d find the Italian place. The owner was cleaning up but let us in and could not have been nicer. While speaking Italian with him, we sampled a number of flavors, and ended up each with a big bowl of three different flavors to eat upstairs at their abnormal but beautiful seating area. I had fresh mint, stracciatella and tiramisu. It wasn’t super creamy and the consistency wasn’t great, but wow those flavors were good. They had a wonderful saffron flavor that tasted exactly like the risotto my mom always made for me growing up. It turns out, the owner, whose name I can’t remember — Guido maybe? — grew up just outside of Venice and recently lived in Florence. I gave him my email and a list of cool new restaurants and gelato places to try next time he was in town.

By now it was 11:00pm and we wanted to go out and get a drink, to really enjoy our last night in Berlin. We took the U-Bahn over to Geist im Glas, in between Kreuzberg and the Neukolln. We had backtracked a bit from dinner and ice cream, but we saw that it was one direct train home from the bar, so it was worth it (most places we had to transfer at least once.)

Geist im Glas is known for distilling their own spirits and having a lot of cool flavors. Basically you tell them a flavor you’re feeling like and they’d make you a drink. I was feeling cucumber and got a really nice cucumber gin and tonic. Callie picked lemon and ended up with something even better than mine. We sat in the dim candle-lit bar for almost an hour and a half.

On our way from the bar to the U-Bahn, around 1am, there was a weirdly large number of police cars and ambulances that sped by us all in the same direction. Since it was just the day after Paris that made us a little paranoid and not too excited to sit on the subway for 20 minutes, but under a little drizzle we made it back safe and it ended up being nothing.

I had to get up early the next morning for my flight. It wasn’t a super early flight, but I would have to spend 45 minutes on the U-Bahn, then take a 10 minute bus to the airport. Thanks Schoenefeld. I had also forgotten my umbrella that trip, which made the 10 minute walk, or jog, with my little carry-on, in the rain that morning very difficult and unpleasant.

Surprisingly, security was no stricter than usual. A quick pass through and I was in the terminal waiting to board. Being RyanAir of course, they wouldn’t post the gate until it was time to start boarding. The second it was posted, the whole crowd waiting at the monitors runs over to get “in line.” By “in line,” I mean make a big clump. Again, to no surprise, we were delayed and stood there for at least 30 minutes in this big clump before boarding eventually began and some sort of clump of a “line” formed.

Again, no surprise here, but they started the boarding process before the plane was ready for boarding. They swiped our tickets and passports and sent us outside… to stand in the rain five feet from the terminal. After a few minutes of this they finally let us walk the 50 feet out to the plane and up the steps on board.

Once on board, the flight was quick and easy. I had plenty of time before my train left Bologna so I sat by myself and had a pizza in the airport. It was actually really delicious, especially considering it was at an airport!

In Italy, every pizza is a personal pizza. You don’t share them. You don’t pick them up and eat by the slice. You cut it with a fork and knife, and you eat it. All of it. The elderly couple next to me each finished their entire pizzas with no problems, so I figured I had to as well. I hopped on the AeroBus back to the train station — this time avoiding the gypsys at all costs — and began to navigate the incredibly complicated new Bologna train station. They recently did a bunch of renovations and moved the high-speed platforms underground. It shouldn’t be that hard to get down there, but it is. Surprise again, the Italian train is late. But I got on eventually.

I had splurged a bit for this last part of my journey home and bought myself a ticket in business class. I had a solo seat next to a window and enjoyed my champagne and crackers. At the time I didn’t know that this would be my last time on the train in Italy, otherwise I would’ve had another glass of champagne and said a little toast. I miss the trains in Europe. They just work. Taking the train in America the other day was weird because most people at the station aren’t holding luggage. We don’t actually *travel* by train, we just commute.

And just like that, our trip to Berlin was over. Barely 36 hours in the city. We’ll be back for sure.