Berlin – from a train to Nimes, August 13th, 2009

When I started planning my tour through Europe, I did the obvious thing and chose destinations that aligned with my interests. Greece was a clear choice, I would get to see the ruins of the ancient Greeks and the white washed homes and churches of the present day islanders. The South of France was easy-beautiful beaches, the Pont du Gard, and croissants. Berlin however, was not much more than a feeling. Never before have I felt an urge to go to Germany, until I started my planning. As I researches more into the city, I found that it had one of the greatest and largest antiquities museums in the world and that its indie-art scene was on the rise. So I said, “what the hell”, convinced a friend to join, and booked my flight to Berlin.
Once I arrived in Berlin’s Schoenfeld airport, I waited in arrivals to meet up with Dean, who was taking a weekend away from where he was studying in Brighton. As soon as he came through the security doors, I gave him a huge hug and we set off to find our hostel—an adventure that took a little longer than expected. We had directions in hand, and knew that our hostel was in the middle of city, less than 1 km from our train stop (Hakesher Markt), but the directions read like a Google translation of the German original. I began asking directions from random people on the street, and after being led astray a couple of times, we finally found someone who knew exactly where to go. Once we arrived, it was well after 1 am. After a quick check in, we dropped our stuff and headed back out. Both of us were completely surprised and excited by the night life in Berlin. It was a Thursday night at 1 am, and everyone was still out—restaurants, bars, and clubs alike were packed and rockin.
We jumped into the first bar with good music, instantly ordered a beer, and sat down to enjoy the first German beer of my life… Well, funny thing is, I found out that just like American beer, I don’t like it. I can’t really complain about this though, its something that saved me money throughout our stay. So after a few sips I passed it on to Dean, who happily downed his and mine. We were rockin out to the electronic remixes the DJ was playing, having a great time, until the DJ played “rock around the clock”, and other 50’s era hits. We quickly left and went on our way to find some cheap food—mission accomplished. Just down the street a 24-hour joint was serving out “durum donor”, a Turkish kebab like wrap, aka pure deliciousness. The only reference I have for this is eating Chano’s chicken nachos after a long night on the row. It’s a wrap composed of the meat off those spits they make gyro meat from, lettuce, cabbage, tomatoes, and your choice of garlic or spicy sauce—I opted for both. Needless to say, Dean and I were shocked by how good the fast food is in Germany. We were 5 hours into our Berlin excursion, and already we were completely content.
The following morning, we decided to find a café to get breakfast and make a game plan for the next few days. I ordered a cappuccino and we shared the “large breakfast”; the cappuccino was huge (should be at 3E) with froth overflowing out of the cup, and the large breakfast was a combination of deli meats, cheeses, fresh fruit, and freshly baked bread—I love Germany. The biggest oddity of German culture I found occurred while eating at this café. It was 11 am, and people were already into their first beer of the day! Apparently beer is an all day refreshment, acceptable at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, or a replacement for any of these meals. Regardless, we began our game planning by opening up our map and trying to find all the sights we wanted to get to. Only problem is the map displays very accurate drawings of each of the monuments, but doesn’t name them. Apparently, you are supposed to know what building is what, solely based upon location and architecture. While this may have worked had I actually done a little research before coming to Berlin, we were at a loss. So instead, we decided to wander around and rely upon Dean’s impecable sense of direction and try to find whatever it was we were looking for.
And wouldn’t you know it, the first thing we stumbled into was the Altes and Pergamon Museums—the antiquity museums of Berlin. As we walked through the museum doors, I shivered with excitement. Forgot the €7 I paid to get in (about 12 American), seeing the remnants of Greek and Roman art, civilization, and trade gave me the chills. It was in these museums that I realized (if I hadn’t already 100 times over) how truly perfect a Classics education is for me. My breath was taken away by the sight of so many well made and well-preserved mosaics, and pithoi, and sculpture, and everything else in between. It was rewarding to see so many of the artifacts that I learned about in class all the way back in Southern California.
After walking through the Altes, we hurried over to the Pergamon. As soon as you walk in, you are immediately confronted with the reconstructed Altar of Pergamum, with wall panels sorrounding all four walls. I squeaked out an, “oh my god”, all while Dean continued to laugh at me (with possible annoyance at my perpetual excitement throughout the day). I took more pictures than I can count, with an accidental flash or two in there (one of these was the bust of Nefratiti, I’m surprised no one jumped me). Possibly my favorite exhibition of these two museums was upstairs within the Pergamon Museum; in a series of small rooms, joined together so that you must enter and exit one to reach the next, there was an exhibition of the Olympian gods. The first room, of course, was dedicated to Zeus and painted in a deep Blue. Statuary lined the walls and the center of the room. The next room, dedicated to Aphrodite, was painted in a dark red hue, again with statuary dominating the room. This system continued for all of the Olympian Gods, until the last room—a room devoted to the Amazonian Women. It was in this room that a massive statue of Penthiselea stood, the Queen of the Amazonians. Her stature signified a woman not to be reckoned with, yet she maintained a certain femininity that she almost used as a weapon. She appeared wild and free, a warrior in her own right.
This exhibition was the last of the museum, so we eft and began to wander around again until we stumbled once again into the great park near the Reichstag building. I must say, I am thoroughly impressed by German architecture, however totally displeased with how HUGE Berlin is. On the map, the park was no more than an inch away, yet it took us around 40 minutes to get there. We passed by Humboldt University, the huge Romanesque monument with the man with the chariot, and a few other squares. As soon as we got there, we sat underneath a tree and rested our feet (unfortunately I decided to wear extremely uncomfortable flip flops). At this point, we were 5 hours from breakfast and ready to eat again. So we sat a little while longer, and headed back towards our hostel to find a good German style meal.
We succeeded. Right by our hostel was a restaurant called Rocco’s, where we ordered plates of sausage, boiled potatoes, and sauerkraut. Let me tell you; once we sat down, ordered, and began to eat, it was glorious. So glorious, that afterwards we went straight back to our hostel and took a nap from the serious food coma that ensued.
That night, we met our five other roommates—Karina, Mark, John-o, Sara, and Rose, all Ausies about our age living in London. Instead of going to University, they picked up and left the beautiful Sunshine Coast for city life in London and to travel the world. We all got along quite well, and they invited Dean and I out with them the next day for Karina’s birthday celebration.
Saturday morning, Dean and I planned on going to the market to grab breakfast, but on our way we ran into a farmer’s market. We both got strudel and fresh squeezed orange juice. This meal continued our delicious cultural culinary experiences. After we ate, we headed for the Berlin Wall. Little did we know that it would take an 1 ½ hours to get there—I was beginning to resent our boycott of public transportation. The foot pain was however worth it, despite the underwhelming nature of the wall itself, because of the public art showcase Berlin had initiated on the wall. For every 10 meters of the wall, a different artist painted a depiction of their experience or idea of what the Berlin wall meant then and means now for them. Some took more negative approaches, painting dark figures that looked like Death Eaters (thank you, JK Rowling), while others took positive approaches, painting a hole in the wall with a picture of the Earth through the hole.
On our walk back, we stopped for Icekaffes—espresso with milk, a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and whipped cream on top. **At this point, I am realizing that my entire blog is about food! Woops!** Anyways, we saw the Berlin Wall, and it was great, we got Icekaffes, and we stopped through a flea market where I got a Berlin Olympics pin circa whenever the Olympics where in Berlin (yes I know the history behind it, that’s partially why I got it). We also got pretzels along the way from a street vendor and headed back to the hostel to eat them with some beer and rest before going out.

That night, dinner was at an Italian place near by, where we all ordered pizzas. The eight of us (Karina’s boyfriend flew in that day) discussed Australia, London, Manchester (Where K’s boyfriend grew up), and Southern California. Culturally, all are very different, though we discussed how the mindset from each can be so similar. For example, London is just like any other big city, except the people have an English accent and eat bangers and mash. It was really interesting to see the similarities and differences of all these places separated by so many miles. Despite our serious conversations, dinner ended on a lighter note—after our plates were cleaned up, three waiters came out carrying a huge platter with firework candles, a tower of champagne, and tiramisu. The surprise was really sweet; it showed just how great of friends they all are. It was a great way to spend my last night in Berlin.

Sunday morning rolled around much too quickly. Dean and I decided to spend this day wandering around the neighborhoods we liked most; Dean was leaving at three for his flight, and I needed to recheck into another room. As a last meal, Dean and I went back to Rocco’s for lunch, where he ordered another glorious plate of sausage and sauerkraut, and I ordered a delicious Icekaffe. This one was even sweeter than the first, making our farewell to Berlin that much more bitter.

After Dean left, I was to begin my journey through Europe alone. My feelings on solo travel are mixed—it will be a great way to strike out on my own, separating myself from all the influences (good ones, of course) and thus making all of my own decisions, and maybe really learning more about myself. On the other hand, I have always felt that the best experiences are those that you share with the people you love. I’ll keep you updated on which one wins out. Taken altogether though, I would much travel alone than not travel at all.