Online in Berlin

Please ignore the words in red if you do not like bad puns.

If you were wondering why the title of this page has such a ring to it it it is because there is a book by Hans Fallada called ‘Alone in Berlin‘. Which kinda sounds like ‘Online in Berlin’. Just me?

Now where was I? Oh yes – London. But,  as of 16.50 yesterday, ich bin ein Berliner!

Here goes…

And so it begins. Last week I grew tired of my droning restlessness and booked a one way flight to Berlin. Now, a week later and 10 degrees colder, I am sitting in a little Italian cafe – ‘Petite Europe’, with a coffee and my notebook (paper not electronical, that would hardly suit), feeling wonderfully like I should.

I am in Schoneberg, a district  just west of Kreuzberg made famous by Christopher Isherwood for its pre war gay scene. Now, the rainbow flags – which still flower haubtstrasse –  slightly pale in comparison to the brightly colourful grocery stores of the Turkish and Asian immigrant community which paint the pavements with their fruit and vegetables. Oh if only I had a camera and some thick rimmed glasses!

As I flew in to Berlin -Schoenfelde the cloud – which, when above it had completely blocked the earth from our journey – somehow allowed the bright winter sun to pierce through it, gilding the runway and fluttering my stomach.

A few hours later I was sitting in Ivo’s incredible flat – wooden floors, tall windows – blissfully sipping on a bottle of pils with him and some of his friends.

As my German is still in the earliest stages of its infancy – in fact it is yet to born – we spoke mostly in English. But I was pleased to be able to get the gist of what was being said when we switched to German – and even contribute the odd comment myself!

My first full German conversation was held in one of the many 24h beer stops – which not only sell cheap and delicious beer, but also collect and PAY you to return used bottles (pfand) – between myself and the friendly shop keeper. This is how it went:

Me: Hallo!

Shopman: Hallo!

M: Haben sie Augustine Dunkel? (a type of beer not an ethnic lady)

S: Ja!

M: Ok. Wo ist es? Ich kanne es nicht finden.

S: Es ist da! (He points to a bottle right in front of me)

M: Oh clair! Ich konnte es nicht sehen.

(at the till)

S: Sie haben schone augen.

M: I blush and fiddle with my eurocents.

S: Hat deine mutter so schone augen?

M: Ja, ich glaube…aber ihre augen sind blaue (this is not true, but blue was the only colour I could remember. In fact my mothers eyes are the same colour as mine, so I have no idea what i was talking about)

S: Sie sind ein student?

M: Nein.

S: Also, tourist?

M: Nein, Ich liebe hier… ich suche arbeit…

S: Oh. Gluck! (as if i’ve told him I’m looking for fairies)

M: Danke! Ich – (I start, and then realise I have already exhausted my pitiful store of words, so I just smile and pay)

S: Sehr schone augen! (He seems to realise the limits of my small talk and returns to this)

I laugh and turn to leave, as I do so knocking over a pile of beers. Win.

After a delicious dinner and a nice chat a few of us head into town. This involves a train and a tram – both of which are ridiculously efficient and pleasant. Now in eastern Prenzlauer Berg we arrive at haus am see, a hip bar right next to Rosenthaler Platz station. Designed like a stadium, the back half of the bar rises to the ceiling in wide cushioned steps where bespectacled spectators speculate on the comings and goings of the rest of the clientele who seem unfazed by their overlookers. (Sorry).

We stay for a couple of very reasonably priced beers which – rather suprisingly- are ordered via table (or should I say ‘step’) service. Then made our way back through the moonlit check points of no mans land to the west where we stumbled, gratefully, into bed.

But alas, it seems sleep is not to be a daily (or indeed nightly) occurrence in Berlin. The night all too easily sips itself into dawn, and with a job interview early the next morning, I was only able to steal 4 hours of BerlinSchlaf before my alarm jackbooted its way into meine Traume.