"Berlin ist arm, aber sexy."

I walk further into Berlin, being guided to the west by Fernsehturm Berlins largest structure, their unmistakable 1,200 foot tall television tower, known locally as “telespargel,” or “the toothpick” As I cross into the borough of Mitte, the architecture and cleanliness of the town immediately improve. I pass the beautiful old buildings of Humboldt university, the library of which once educated both Karl Marx and Frederick Engels. The through museum island, and incredible buildings such as the Berliner Dome and the Brandenburg Gate, where Reagan delivered his “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” Berlin is for many associated with Hitler and communism, which is a shame, because Berlin thrived for hundreds of years before this, and they have left behind a lot of magnificent buildings. I stroll down Friedrichststatdpasagen, Berlin’s ritziest shopping area, which seems to have completely recovered from the huge economic disaster of only a few years before. By the time I reach the Reichstag I am completely exhausted, and happy to find that it abuts the Tiergarten, Berlins largest green area. I grab an ice cream and join the many people lounging in the grass. My impression of Berlin is that it’s pretty imposing, the buildings are massive and look incredibly sturdy, though clearly nothing that the bombs made by the blood, sweat, and tears of the hard-working, god-fearing men and women of the good ole’ US of A couldn’t handle. After an hour or so in the park and a walk through the controversial Holocaust Memorial, I head to Potsdamer Plaza, Berlin’s biggest example of the modernization of the city. It’s a hub of many of the largest corporate offices in Berlin, and the wildly extravagant modern buildings were designed by some of the worlds most cutting edge architects. The Sony Center is probably the most famous, and houses a hotel, train station, shopping center and cinema under what can only be described as a gigantic glass parachute. I decide to exploit Berlin’s still struggling economy and have the best dinner I’ll have all trip. In a centuries old “wine house” I am treated to a sparkling Reisling, a huge cut of Reindeer Filet with creamed Chanterelle and a glass of Chateau St. Emilion Grand Cru for a total of about twenty-eight bucks, including tip. Stuffed, I decide to walk back to my hotel, which ends up taking about two hours, so I stop along the way for a few more large mugs of Germany’s famous beer, which are never more than two Euro a pop. Though I’m in a city many consider to have the world’s best nightlife, the twelve miles or so that I’ve walked have taken their toll, and I doze off in my tiny little bed.