The Food, Fun, and Foibles of a First-Time Europe Traveler


Berlin Day 3: Flow the Flow

Thinking about all we saw in Berlin.

An extra benefit to the tour was being able to scout out places that we wanted to come back to, so we decided to head back to Museum Island. We started at the Old National Gallery, which was supposed to contain impressionist and expressionist paintings. There were actually not that many of either, but instead a lot of portraits and landscapes by German painters.

Hanna staring at her new favorite painting.

There was one impressionist section which had a few Monet’s and Hanna found one of her new favorite paintings. She found it surprising that it was Renoir, since she doesn’t usually like his stuff, but she gazed at it for quite a while. There was also what we assumed was a copy of Rodin’s famous The Thinker, but after listening to the audioguide we found out it was actually the original. It was much smaller than the famous larger sculpture, which was in reality a copy of the smaller one. We almost walked right by it.

This museum had an attendant in pretty much every room (more than the Louvre), and we were surprised when one of them suddenly burst out in song. She was a tiny blonde woman who sang in an operatic tone. I guess it was supposed to add to the ambience of the room, but after about five minutes she would stop singing and say something quickly in German. She continued to repeat this cycle the entire time we were on the floor. It was very strange.

After that we went to the German Historical Museum, which made me very excited and made Hanna want to hang herself. It featured the permanent collection, basically explaining German history from 500 B.C. to present times (Hanna looked at the old clothes while I read the information, everybody wins), but more interestingly it featured the first exhibition on Hitler ever in Germany.

It may seem surprising, but I guess they’re careful to keep their distance from the Fuhrer. Surprisingly the exhibition wasn’t just about how evil Hitler was. It focused on how the state of Germany after WWI and the German people allowed Hitler to rise to power and carry out his heinous regime. It contained lots of old memorabilia such as uniforms, posters, and buttons, and was incredibly interesting. Once again, Berlin was a much different experience than any of the other cities.


Outside the museum we found a stand selling delicious sausages, potatoes, and mushrooms so we picked some up and headed to Alexanderplatz (kind of like a shopping district). We hung out in the mall, picked up some smoothies, people-watched, and got some food to take home for dinner.

Even though our time there was more of the historical/depressing variety, I’ve heard that Berlin is actually a great city for nightlife. Take for example the advertisement in our discount book for the club, Matrix:

Matrix parties—that’s your life—every day ecstasy—all together—life is the Matrix—you mix it every day, see the flow, feel the flow, flow the flow—right in your heart. Parties on up to 6 floors.

It’s stop #1 on our next trip to Berlin.



Berlin Day 2: Not Exactly Sunshine and Rainbows

Hanna at the Holocaust Memorial.

Hanna and I aren’t normally ones for guided tours, but a combination of good reviews and a lack of time in the city made the “Berlin Insider’s Tour” particularly attractive. It was a walking tour of Berlin and, with the discounts we received for buying 48-hour transport tickets, it only cost us 8 euro each. We met outside the McDonald’s in West Berlin (that wasn’t part of the tour) and bought our tickets for the “Famous Walk,” which basically hit all the historical hotspots in the city.

We bought our tickets at about 9:45 for a 10:00 tour, and the lady who sold us the tickets and seemed to be in charge said, “Ok you’ll be with Kenny.” She paused for a second then turned to one of the other guides and said, “Where is Kenny?”

Turns out Kenny had just gotten back from “holiday” in Egypt and hadn’t gotten a chance to look at the schedule. The guides made some phone calls and finally we were told to follow Pilar to the train station. She was a guide for one of the Spanish tours, but she would be taking us on the train so that we could meet up with our guide, Heidi, at the East Berlin meeting point. We got there and met up with about 15 other people going on the “Famous Walk”, but no Heidi. About 10 minutes passed and suddenly a frazzled, dark haired woman who looked like she just woke up came running from the train (Hanna was speculating from the name “Heidi” that she would be a drop-dead gorgeous blonde…I saw her smile when the real Heidi emerged).

She didn’t pull any punches and told us that she had, in fact, woken up about 10 minutes ago. She fumbled around with her words for the first couple minutes, but other than that her lack of preparedness was hardly noticeable.

We started off at Hackescher Market where, in the late 1800s, 50 Jewish families were invited to live. Our tour guide noted the unprecedented openness of this move at the time and proceeded to tell us that Germany was much friendlier to Jews than England or France at the time. Things changed a little.

This one's authentic.

Next we went to Museum Island, where the outside is still literally covered in bullet-holes. This prompted Heidi to tell us that “if there aren’t bullet-holes in it, it’s not original.” Apparently the Battle for Berlin took a huge toll, as 70-80% of the entire city was flattened during the war.

Next we headed across the street to the museum (called “Museum”) and a huge protestant church that looked Catholic. Across the green was where the old Palace used to stand. As we walked over to it, Heidi showed us a picture of Hitler walking on the exact same path as us surrounded by thousands of Nazi supporters. That was the first of many times on the tour that we got some serious goosebumps.

The old Palace was demolished by the Soviets after WWII and replaced by a more efficient communist building, which was in turn demolished by the new German government after the wall came down. Currently it is a big empty space, but is in the process of being re-built. She mentioned that the people got to vote on what would go there and that people in Berlin vote on absolutely every government decision. Not only that, but the Parliament building is open from 8 am to midnight and the public is free to hang around as long as they like. Obviously the current German government wants everything to be transparent and clear to the people. It makes you wonder if, because of all the horrible things that happened in the past, Germany could become the new paradigm of modern democracy. I guess time will tell, but apparently they’re doing pretty well.

That was a recurring theme on the tour. So much of Berlin is still being renovated nearly 70 years after the end of the war. We would pass things and Heidi would actually say things like, “That statue just went up yesterday” or “the roof of that building will be finished next week.”

We saw tons of things that will have to be relayed in person, and I’m so glad that we did the tour. It was very informative and added a lot of detail to a city full of stories and history. Appropriate for the subject matter, this was by far our coldest, dreariest day of the trip. We used all the layers we had in our backpacks and were still shivering at times. Remarkably, there was a girl from Hawaii who was wearing flip-flops for the entire four-hour tour. I swear I’m not kidding. Her little toes were as red as Currywurst.

Currywurst is the worst.

Speaking of currywurst, we got some for lunch after the tour. It’s a local specialty and was referred to by Heidi as “wartime food” which usually means it’s terrible. Hanna bravely ordered it for her entrée while I just got the “tapas-sized” version. The sausage itself wasn’t bad but it was covered in a “special sauce” that was basically curry-flavored ketchup. Hanna managed to put aside her hatred of condiments and get through most of it, but I can’t imagine she enjoyed it too much.

Afterwards we went to the Topography of Terror, which is a museum next to one of the few remaining pieces of the Berlin Wall. It is in an open-air museum in what used to be the basement of the SS building where the interrogations (aka torture) were held. It was quite extensive and we actually couldn’t get through it all before it got dark.

After that we went to the Haus dam Checkpoint Charlie Museum which was located, appropriately enough, right next to Checkpoint Charlie (the old passport station between East and West Berlin). The museum gave history about the Wall, but was mostly about all the ways in which people attempted (sometimes successfully) to get over, under, around, or through the Wall.

There were tons of stories: cars modified to fit people where the engine should have been, homemade airplanes, two families that came together to make what was, at the time, Europe’s biggest hot air balloon with no prior knowledge of the subject.

It was all amazing and truly unbelievable, but our favorite story had to be this one:  a man and his wife were separated, the man in the West and the woman in the East. The man started dating a girl in the West that looked a lot like his wife. He then traveled with her to the East (as West Berliners were legally able to do). While in the East, he arranged a meeting with his wife, ditched his “girlfriend”, and took her passport. His wife then used it for safe passage back to the West.

The guy was later caught and sentenced to 7 months in jail, which I’m sure he was more than willing to serve given the fact that his wife was now safely in the West. Hanna remarked about how often these stories of remarkable escape are tied to love.


Berlin Day 1: “Open the Door and I’ll Tell You”

In front of the Brandenburg Gate.

We left Nuremberg, hoping to find a place where Hanna could get some of their famous gingerbread on the way to the train station. Luckily enough, there was a stand selling it in the station on the way to our train and, not only that, but they were giving away free samples. Hanna tried some and noted the differences between it and our gingerbread (theirs was more like a cake and covered in chocolate whereas ours is hard). She liked it, but wasn’t impressed enough to take home a 6-pack so she decided not to buy any.

We boarded the 12:33 to Berlin, had a rather uneventful 4 ½ hour trip, and disembarked in Berlin. We quickly found the tourist information booth where we bought our transport tickets and asked how to get to our hotel. The guy told us to “go across the street to the yellow building and get the bus from there.”

We crossed the street to find no yellow building, but rather a series of about 6 bus stops within a three-block radius. We found one that looked like the right one, waited there for about 20 minutes, and watched as the bus we were trying to board turned down the street right in front of us. Quickly we ran to try to catch it, but it was too late. Turns out there was another bus stop behind the corner on a dark street where absolutely no cars went. Who knew?

Finally, we boarded the right bus and we got to our hostel. It wasn’t in the nicest of areas, but nobody seemed to be dangerous. On the walk there we scoped out dinner options and settled on “Sudhaus.” It looked like a brew-pub type place so we figured it would be standard bar food.

We arrived at our hostel to find a group of about 6,000 German teenagers hanging out downstairs. They were drinking beers, playing ping pong, using the computers, but most of all they were talking very loudly. Considering that Hanna and I always look for the hostel with the lowest “Fun” rating, we were quite alarmed by the amount of “fun” people seemed to be having. “Fun” for them means long, sleepless nights for us.

Hoping for the best, we checked in then went to drop our stuff off in the room before heading back to the Sudhaus for dinner. Turns out that it’s right next to a squash court facility and we didn’t see one person in there that didn’t have a squash racket. Besides that the place seemed alright, other than the fact that there was one waitress. Let me clarify, actually. She seemed to be the only person working in the entire restaurant. There were two floors—a bar on the first and the restaurant upstairs. This poor woman had to serve the drinks to the 6 or 7 people at the bar, seat people for dinner, take orders, bring drinks from the bar upstairs to the customers at the restaurant, and bring the food from the upstairs kitchen to the diners. There was a light that would go on outside the kitchen from time to time, and she would quickly run in after. This led us to believe that she was cooking the food as well.

The food was average and it took about three hours, literally, but we tipped liberally considering the demanding conditions.

When we got back to the hostel, we used the free wireless in the lobby to check some emails and post some articles. Hanna used the pay phone to call and wish her mother a happy birthday (she had to do it quickly since her money kept running out). We headed up to bed at around 11:30, where we would have one of the strangest experiences of our lives.

It was around midnight, and I was just about to get into the shower. Hanna was in bed and we had some music playing softly in the background. Suddenly, we heard a knock on the door.


“It’s reception. Can you please open the door?” said a male voice.


“Open the door and I’ll tell you.”

Even if we hadn’t adopted the “trust no one” mentality for this trip, there’s no way we would have opened the door. It sounded like a line from a bad horror movie where you scream at the television “Don’t open the door you moron!”

So we both immediately screamed “No! Tell us what you want!”

At that point we heard our door beep and the handle start to turn. This asshole actually opened our door and started to walk in! Since I was up I ran to push the door closed and said, “Woah! What are you doing!” Hanna was screaming similar things from the bed, but they were edited to maintain her dainty, lady-like façade.

Through the crack in the door he said, “I would like to tell you that now is the time for you to turn your music down.”

What!? All this because he wanted us to turn the music down. I made the obvious statement: “You could have just told us that through the door. You didn’t have to barge in here!”

To which he replied, “Yes, but that wouldn’t be very polite.”

Apparently Germans have a much different set of manners than we do. We closed the door, turned down the music, and Gerry-rigged our door closed using the two desk chairs and the open bathroom door.