“Ich bin ein Berliner”
I awake to a very strange sensation. Eight nights in as many different cities has caught up to me, and for a few seconds when I open my eyes, I literally have no idea where in the world I am. It is one of the greatest feelings I have ever experienced. It soon dawns on me that I am in Berlin, and for once, I don’t need to check out by noon. So I indulge in one of my favorite things in the world. I sleep. I sleep and sleep and sleep. It’s three o’clock by the time I leave my room, but I’m on vacation, and that’s exactly what I wanted to do. I grab a cup of coffee and a Cuban cigar, and head out to walk the city. My hotel is in East Berlin, which for those us who took our history classes from the US public school system, was the Communist area of the city, responsible for erecting the infamous wall. I have with me a trusty city map, one of many that will guide me along my travels, and one thing becomes quickly apparent to me. Berlin is huge. With many of the other cities I have been in on the trip, I can find myself making very significant progress across these maps in a matter of ten minutes or so. A ten minute walk in Berlin barely moves me an inch. It would be like trying to walk across Orlando. (That has to be one of the most culturally retarded lines I’ve ever written. Berlin, one of the most historically significant cities in all of the world, and the best analogy I can come up with is Orlando? I need to travel more.) Berlin is separated into 12 different Boroughs, which collectively are similar in size to all of New York save for Staten Island, which is how most people think of New York anyways. (Sorry Cryan, but you know it’s true. Wu-Tang Forever.) I’m staying in Friedrichshain, a part of town that’s still pretty gritty, but quickly filling with younger people and the types of bars, restaurants, and boutiques that they spawn. There’s a lot of graffiti along the walls, but it adds character. I walk along the Karl Marx Allee, lest I forget the recent past of my current locale. This was one of the main roads of East Berlin and is lined with enormous apartment buildings, known as the GDP Palaces, that held thousands of residents in identical apartments. After walking the road for several miles, I stop into a place called “Alberts” it’s main feature being a massive bust of Albert Einstein, tongue out, above a pipe organ. The waitress approaches, and it soon becomes clear that English is not nearly as widely spoken as in Scandinavia. “Sorry” I stammer. “No spreitchen Deutchen” “Ah” she replies, “You want food?” I nod. “You like hamburger with cheese and with bacon and with fries and with large beer?” Now that’s a good waitress! Normally I would have gone for something a little less typically American, but hey, they do call it a Hamburger. A gigantic burger and even larger beer are brought forth, all for the tune of about seven bucks. I am beginning to like Berlin very much.
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