Berlin, Germany 5/27/08

I forcably removed myself from my bed early this morning. It's really hard to duck out of a hostel quietly from the top bunk of a 30 person dorm room. I redied myself as carefully as possible, and waking as few people as I could, although none of them seemed to mind much because they were all in a thick drug glazed slumber. I checked out of the hostel, once I had gathered my belongings, and began walking the couple blocks across the road to the station. My train was a little late, and the way the station in Amsterdam is set up, it freaked me out a little thinking that it might just blow right past me without my noticing. When the train arrived, I jumped on quickly, worried I might miss my chance. However, everything worked out fine, and I was off on my last trainride through Europe.

This last one seemed also to be my most comfortable, at least since the early part of the trip. There weren't a whole lot of people pilled into this train, and the seats were quite roomy. I didn't have a particularly assigned seat, so I just set myself down on a window seat amongst the really nice middle row which have tables between seats that face eachother. Next to the table, the train car had power outlets so that I could plug in my laptop and iPod to charge them while we were in transit. I havn't seen that sort of thing since the UK. When I was fully charged, I put my seat back and slept a little while watching the trees fly by the window.

When I awoke, we were just about to enter Berlin. I wasn't exacty sure which station I wanted to get off at, so I got so nervous I was going to miss it, I got off at the first station with "Berlin" in the title, ending up in the wrong station. I had to sit on the metro a whole extra hour in order to get back to where I was supposed to be, but I finally made it to the spot were I was supposed to meet Denis, whom I was to be staying with while in Berlin. When I got to the metro station we were scheduled to meet at, I was still an hour and a half early, but just to be sure I was in the right place, I used the extra time, to backtrack through the tunnels and replay my steps. Berlin's underground can be tricky, and I'm not always sure I'm in the right spot. When I was satisfied that this must indeed be the place, I explored around the near area cheking for, in particular, a cash machine to withdrawl some cash. I'd used up the last of the cash I was carrying last night to pay for that beer in the hostel bar. I hadn't even had enough to pay for something to eat this morning getting here, and they wouldn't accept my credit card. In order to get food, I had to first find a cash machine. I asked someone in a local bakery, and they pointed out the direction I needed to go. I walked all over that direction, but couldn't find what I was looking for until I saw someone walk out of a nearby building with cash in their hands. This building was, as it turned out, a huge bank and I'd been walking all around it the whole time unable to see the sign. I finally walked in, and was able to get some cash, and then spend some on a Doner Kabab in a nearby shop by the open food market.

As it was nearing the time when I was supposed to meet Denis, I walked back over to where the metro station stood. In standing there for a couple minutes, I began to get self consious and traveled back down again, into the underground to be truely sure I was standing in the right place. Again my conclusion was the same, and as I exited this time, I heard a voice call my name. "Tyler!" the voice called to my right, and I turned my head to meet it. A young man in a bright yellow shirt with the word "California" blazing over his chest was the one who fit the voice. My mind had somehow tricked me into imagining that this Denis I was supposed to meet was older, in his 40s or 50s and this man seemed barely older than me. I stared at him, trying to allow for a connection in my head to be bridged, and stood there perhaps a couple seconds longer than I should have. He extended out his hand to shake mine, and I met his gesture clumsily with my own. "I wore my California shirt so you'd find me," he pointed to his t-shirt proudly. I smiled and thanked him for meeting me. He asked me if I'd eaten anything. I told him I'd had a Kabab just shortly before he found me. "Oh good!" he said, "I was just going to take you to have one. That's a very common food here in Germany, we eat a lot of Doner Kebabs." On the way to his home, which was just a short walk from the metro station, he picked himself up one to go and pointed out along the street some great German bakeries where I might possibly find breakfast in the morning. As we walked he gave me a quick historical tour of the area, mentioning interesting facts and little tidbits about post war Berlin, and how the neighborhood we were walking through was mostly all surviving buildings from that time.

We hung out at the apartment, he apologised that his girlfriend Nancy wasn't here right now to greed me, but he assured me I'd meet here later in the day. He gave me the grand tour of the place, showing me the brand new couch they'd gotten which folds out into a bed for guests. That was going to be my bed for the next few nights. I was honored that I got to be the first to break it in, and thank him profusely for inviting me to stay. After settling in a bit, and dropping my stuff by the couch, The first thing I did was take a badly needed shower, which was my first since leaving France. It felt wonderful. Afterwards, we went searching online, and found me a flight out to London using easyjet.com which only cost about 45 US dollars with everything included. I now had the final leg of my journey booked and readied, and inside I felt the tension of travel slowly begin to subside. I was more or less on vacation from here on out.

Soon after, we headed out again. Denis explained to me that few people in Berlin have cars. All of Germany is a very eco-friendly country so the way most people get around is by using public transportation, or riding bicycles. He thought it would be better exploring the city, if I was able to see it as I was going through, rather than being stuck in the underground while traveling from place to place, and since Nancy wasn't here at the moment both of their bikes were open to use. He walked me outside and unlatched the two bikes, and handed me Nancy's. I right away decided Nancy must be somewhat taller than I was, because I had a little difficulty reaching my way up to the seat. I struggled like a newbie trying to remaster the technique I'd learned as a child. I hadn't ridden a bike since probably about 8 years ago, and it showed. People always say, "It's like riding a bike," inquiring that the particular skill comes back to you when you pick it up again, but I was waiting for my body memory to kick in and it was having a hard time. I was like a little boy on his first two-wheeler for a long time, pitching and rocking unsteadily. The day was full of close calls and near misses as I tried to rewield my second-nature skill without killing myself.

We rode along the central streets of Berlin, zipping in and out of traffic and dodging crowds as Denis pointed out historical points. I was wonderfully suprised how good of a tourguide Denis was. He was really knowlegable about what everything was and how it all came to be. I think that may be in part to the fact that Denis has lived here in Berlin for a good majority of his life. When the wall came down in the 80s, he was there as a little child chiseling away at it with a hammer. He had lived a lot of the history of the city, and was in close contact with those who lived even more. We rode into the new center of the city, the one which was mainly built up after the Berlin Wall as a united center of both East and West. The main building in this area seems to be the Sony Center which serves a number of different functions including, shopping mall, movie theater (where you can watch American movies in their original English), high class apartment complex, 5 star hotel, and staging arena. It's a massive city square inside one building with basically everything you would ever need for a higher price than it's probably worth. The place I can best compare it to would be The Irvine Spectrum back home, if that were fit into one single structure. All the buildings in the new city center are new and modern looking. Since this center didn't rise up until after the wall, everything there is no more than 15 to 18 years old.

We moved on, and Denis showed me the old center of West Berlin, that famous gateway and plaza where Reagan gave his famous speech and said those ever powerful words, "Mr. Gorbachov, tear down that wall!" Denis also showed me the hotel just inside the plaza and the famous window where Michael Jackson held his baby outside, presenting him to the press like Simba to pride rock. We ventured a little further inward, and saw the big government buildings: That major one, I can't remember the name of, with the huge glass dome that has a spiral walkway that you can go up into and look in on the German "Congress" (would be our equivalent); and then the German "white house" across the way where the president and chancellor work and do their business. We rode on through some beautiful gardens, and past the rivers along where the giant, and in fact largest, rail station in Europe (the station I was supposed to get off at) resides. We crossed along the spot where the Berlin Wall used to be. They still have pieces of it set up throughout the city, often times colored with artistic paintings or given plaques with information about the wall and post war Berlin. Marking the border along where the wall followed, they have two rows of brick lain into the ground which run through the whole city. It's so interesting that you see the border run right through highways, and buildings. People just pass through it on a daily basis without even noticing, and less than 20 years ago they would have been shot for even trying. We passed by, and I got a brief glimpse of Checkpoint Charlie, which was the United States' border checkpoint into Soviet occupied Berlin. They had, set up, old photographs of the checkpoint how it looked then in contrast to how it looks now. It still has border guards, and a special security control booth next to the famous sign which reads "You are now leaving the American Sector," but that all seems to be a little more of a tourism thing now. The museum there though, Denis said, was certainly something I'd have to go see when there was more time. We had to hurry up and get back, because we were meeting Nancy and some friends for dinner, but on our way back Denis showed me the TV tower, which used to be in the city center of East Berlin. It was supposed to be built as a symbol of Soviet power and influence in Berlin. The Soviets hired a special architect which they intrusted with the task of creating something monumental. They told him that his only restraints were that nothing religious could be presented, because the Soviet government was strictly opposed to any type of religion. The architect completed what he thought was a foolproof design with no religious overtone, imposing the power and glory of the Soviet Union. The design was a tower which stretched up taller than any other building in Berlin at that time, with a giant ball covered with reflective surfaces to reflect the sun, and make the structure glorious and unavoidable. However, when the sun came out it reflected onto the ball of the tower, and the light shown in a perfect white cross of light on the massive globe for all to see. The Soviet high officials caught sight of this, and promptly fired the architect the next day. They never took down the structure or anything though, and I'm not sure why, but there it still stands with a giant glowing cross reflected in its middle.

We rode our bikes back to the apartment, where I finally got to meet Nancy. She welcomed me in and gave me a big hug. We met up with Denis' good friend Phillip right outside as we were leaving, and together we all talked about our bike ride and the sights Denis showed me, as we took the metro to the resturant we were all meeting at for dinner. The last person who was meeting there at the resturant was a friend of Nancy's from Russia, who's name I can't remember, but we all debated over the pronounciation of it as we walked.

The place we were going to was this, supposedly amazing Berlin brewery which Denis' grandma's boyfriend spoke very highly of. Apparently he's the expert on just about everything regarding everything. Nancy and Denis joked that no matter what the question was, he knew the answer and would continue to list off all the facts about the subject which you hadn't intended to know. There seemed to be no end to his knowlege of otherwise needless trivia. They'd had sneaking suspicions that perhaps he does it just to be a bit of a smartass, but he and Denis' grandmother seem to be very happy, so niether of them raise any sort of questioning. We met up with the Russian girl, and sat down to dinner. Since it was a brewery (and supposedly a very good one) we deliberated carefully over the beverage for the evening. In the end we bought a pitcher of the special house beer, and then the 3 of us guys all got a tasting platter of the 4 top rated beers brewed fresh right here. May I just say, it was absolutely wonderful. The beer I've had in Berlin is by far the most flavorful I've ever had, and the flavors vary across such a wide variety. When it came time to order a meal, I relied on the rest of the group's local expertise. Denis and Phillip encouraged me to go for a very traditional Berliner dish, one which neither of the ladies even wanted to talk about, but the men seem to enjoy thuroughly. It's a huge leg of pork, adorned with special sauces and spices, but there's not much preparation it seems, other than just hacking it off and cooking it. When I got it, the skin was still covered with hair, and a layer of fat, half an inch thick surrounded it. You have to use your knife like a scauple, surgically cutting through the skin and opening up the layer of fat like an incision in order to get to the meat inside. Once actually getting to the part you could eat though, it was amazing. It was, hands down, the best pork I'd ever had, and I felt so masculine eating it right off the bone with the fat and blood still dripping down onto my plate.

After dinner, we parted ways with Phillip and the Russian girl on the bus home. Nancy and Denis helped me prepare my bed, and made sure I was comfortable and had everything I needed. In no time, I was out like a light.