The Best Wurst City

A week and a half ago, as if we hadn't spent enough weekends in a row traveling, I headed off to Berlin with Sinsky. We flew EasyJet, my first time on the ubiquitous airline of Europe, and landed at Berlin's Schoenefeld Airport. An easy train trip to the city, and bam, we're at our hostel right off of Warshaurer Strasse, in the former East Berlin.

Having been prepared by excellent advice from friends who had previously studied in/traveled to Berlin, we set off on our weekend with a list of things to accomplish: be they climb the tower of the Reichstag, see the history museum, eat a curry wurst (there's a story there, just wait), and drink good German beer.

We ended up doing almost everything we had hoped to do, starting with seeing the Berlin Wall at the East Side Gallery. It's a pretty cool sight--a 1km length of wall right on the river now devoted to graffiti art and expression. We found a little hang out area behind the wall where we bought a pint and my furst bratwurst. It was mainly the artist types hanging out, and we kind of stood out since we were neither making out nor nursing our illegitimate baby.

Of the other tourist sights, the Reichstag was a highlight, with a great view of the whole city from the modern glass dome of the German Parliament Building. The Jewish History Museum and the German History Museum were both excellent, as well. The Jewish Museum had a few well-done artistic spaces that try to express the feelings about the tragic past. One, a 30-meter tall empty concrete tower with just a slit of light entering through the roof was an interesting experience. The German History Museum was also phenomenal. So good, in fact, we went twice. The first time we went we only made it around the first floor, which depicts events after the First World War. The exhibit on the depression, growth of the Nazi party, road to war, the Holocaust, the Soviet occupation and life under communism were all absolutely fascinating. My main response to the treatment of the Holocaust was that it was very moving, although alienated "the Germans" as if they were a different nation, much as we would imagine seeing in Washington, DC.

My parents were convinced that I would feel uncomfortable in Germany, surrounded by a language that from a young age has been associated with the Holocaust. I actually found this to not be the case whatsoever, and within a short time had come to take a liking to the city of Berlin its people, and after another day, even the language (some Yiddish mis-translations notwithstanding).

In typical Dan-hates-feeling-like-a-tourist-style, we went on Saturday afternoon to a CouchSurfing.net meetup at a park, and sat on blankets with the twenty or so others, some locals, some ex-pats, and other travelers from mostly English-speaking countries. There we met Nick, who, lo and behold, was staying in our same hostel in the room next to ours. We ended up spending most of the next two days with him.

We checked out some bars in the nightlife areas that had been recommended to us, and although we found some winners, we had a constant sensation of being almost at the right street, but not quite. Perhaps we were really just on the wrong block, or maybe Berlin just needs another year or two before it is truly a great bar city. We went to one club on Saturday night, on the 12th floor, and danced the night away to German electro music. Quite a sight.

On Sunday we met up with another CouchSurfer, Bastian, from northwest Germany. He was a great guy, and we had a good dinner followed by a few enjoyable hours sipping beers on the side of the river. There were lots of parks in the city and no shortage of trees, and it really made the city feel quaint. Both East- and West-Berlin had this phenomenon, and indeed, we hardly noticed much difference between the two.

Our flight Monday departed at 1:50pm, and having printed our boarding passes already, we decided to take our time after the History Museum and walk along the river to the new main train station. A bit out of our way, the train to the airport passed through there as well by our hostel, and Kalani had recommended the walk. We got to the sprawling, $4 billion station at 12:15pm, and saw that the next S9 to Shoenefeld left at 12:21. However, we were hungry and had yet to taste a currywurst, which is apparently the street food of choice. The fooderies in the station were all to corporate for this vender-type food, but across the street a stand caught my eye. In a moment of truth, Sinsky decided that we're going for it, so naturally we missed the train. Upon returning to the station, we saw that the next train arrived at 12:41pm. Now six stops further from the airport than our hostel, we had no real idea how long the train would take, and if you know me, you can imagine how I felt. If you know my dad, you know he would have had a pulmonary embolism right there. Anyway, the train arrived at the airport at 1:26pm, and we made our flight with 10 minutes to spare. Next time, though, I'm packing Valium.