A History Lesson

So, the weird thing about being in Berlin is that being in Berlin isn't weird. I realize we've only seen a tiny slice of the city, but so far, it really doesn't feel that foreign. A lot of the buildings are newer than those in Vancouver, which is a youngster on the scene. People speak a gamut of different languages - just like in Vancouver. There are a huge variety of ethnic restaurants, and oodles of coffee shops. Again, just like back home! Of course, there are lots of differences. Our public transit system can't hold a candle to the system here. Also, you can buy a beer from a corner store at 10:00 a.m. and drink it while walking down the street. A fact which Mr.Q finds quite...charming!

 But so far, much of what we've seen lacks a sense of the true history of this corner of the world. I certainly had more of a feeling of history as a presence in the twisted cobblestone streets of Old Montreal last fall. Today, though, we got a bit of that sense in Berlin. On the recommendation of my yarny-enabling pal Anne, we booked a walking tour of important Third Reich sites. Mr.Q is quite the history buff, especially with WWII, so this was right up our alley. We had to imagine a lot of what was, seeing as many of the sites didn't survive the war or the years afterward, but a few buildings were intact.

This used to be part of Goebbel's Ministry of Propaganda:

 The Finance Ministry now was originally built to house the Air Ministry, out of which the Luftwaffe were commanded by Goering and his merry band of goose-steppers:

A piece of the Berlin wall, built over the ruins of the Gestapo Headquarters (we were walking in the "Dead Zone" between East & West Berlin):
 

An interpretive site, over the foundations of the Gestapo Headquarters, in the empty space behind the Wall:

A building which is now an art gallery, whose purpose to the Third Reich has escaped me (There was a LOT of information!)

Bullet holes, riddling the stone walls of the building above:

Bombed-out remains of a huge train station...whose war-time duties included ferrying Jews and other Undesirables to "Re-education Camps."

A quick shot of Potsdamer Platz from behind the Canadian Embassy (Our guide chose to take us there because he needed a quiet space to continue the lesson, and as he said, it's always quiet where the Canadians are. I may have annoyed the Tea Partier in our group when I commented that yes, being Canadian was why we were so polite getting on the bus...oh well!)

The tour wrapped up at the location of Hitler's infamous bunker. A sign with some essential information marked the spot....

 ...but that was the only indication of what was under our feet. Our group, on the packed dirt and sparse grass, is standing right over what rubble remains of the bunker.

It was very....surreal. To say the least. It was a really interesting experience; quite the mind-fuck, actually. But it gave us a totally different perspective of - and appreciation for - the city.

Heading back "home" for some dinner before Mr.Q's gig, we found ourselves feeling almost like pros at maneuvering the transit system.

The pic was taken moments before Mr.Q shifted over to make room for an elderly woman. When she thanked him in German, he told her (in German) that we were tourists from Canada, staying in Prenzlauer-Berg. Her face lit up, she pulled a photocopied picture out of her bag, of Prenzlauer Allee (The main street near us), about 100 years ago. She talked and chirped at him for the rest of our ride; telling him about growing up in the same neighbourhood. She was quite sweet, and very concerned that we were getting off at the wrong stop. I told her it was OK, we were going to a restaurant for dinner, and she looked very relieved. It felt like we'd been briefly adopted or something: a perfect, magic moment!

Back to "our" 'Wurst stand, where Mr.Q tried the famous Berliner currywurst:

 The verdict:

(He was actually way more impressed than he looks!)

Now: out the door to a gig! Life is so surreal...Awesome, but bizarre!

Achtung, Baby!

 Mr.Q had to get a couple musician-y things for his gigs, and a friend-of-a-friend recommended a local music store. We made our way to the location given by google maps, and were confounded to find ourselves in the middle this huge stone and brick complex:

The Kulturbrauerie, full of artists' spaces, culture-oriented business, performance spaces, and of course - a huge pub. Quite cool!

On the way to the U-Bahn, a very good question:

Zoo Station! Making it even better: the train we had to ride to get there: the U2. (I am, perhaps, far too easily amused!)

At the Zoo....Elephants are cool!

Giraffes are also cool!

Monkeys are also cool, but a bit smellier. Also, cheeky! This little fellow & Mr.Q spent about 5 minutes making faces at each other:

When he'd had enough, he leaped up onto a rope, waggled his backside in Mr.Q's direction (while fondling an emerging poo) and climbed away.

Even stinkier than monkeys: R.O.U.S.es!

This one made my brain hurt a little. I didn't realize we had bison on the west coast...Cultural stereotypes, much?

Finally, some cheeky otters, who were climbing onto the wall to check out a young boy who was chattering at them. They were awesome! So playful and mischievous.

Finally, on our way home, Mr.Q expressed a desire for "Real German Food" (Berlin is more multicultural than Vancouver, and there are an abundance of ethnic restaurants.) We settled on a 'Wurst stand, under one of the U-Bahn stations.  We mistakenly ordered potato salad instead of fries, but it was really good potato salad, so that was alright! Also, they had mugs of gluhwein (hot mulled red wine) available.  So tasty!

....And then, we'll take Berlin!

 A long few days preceding take-off, including more than one trip to the vet which really borked up our timetable! Not least because I was trying madly to finish a sweater to take with me.

And finish it, I did. The shoulder seams are less-than-perfect, as are the last 3 inches of the second side (I was seaming on the SkyTrain to the airport!) When we got to YVR, Mr.Q had lunch while I finished weaving in the ends, before we went through security.

 

Waiting to board...KLM was a delight to fly with! And not only because of the free booze.

 A long, long layover in Amsterdam...Mr.Q slept in a lounge chair while I gawked at the many, many cheeses for sale. (I also had a bit of a nap, but not nearly as epic as his!) Passport Control was painless (and cute! As in, adorable. I swear the guy was only about 20.)

Waiting near our gate, I had a very fine cup of coffee (with complimentary chocolate bon bon!)

 

Arrival in Berlin last night was also painless, and the taxi driver (unlike what we're used to in Vancouver!) didn't try to kill us. We've rented a studio apartment for the week, and our hostess was most helpful in getting us settled. Before she left, she made sure we knew how to get to a nearby grocery, which we hit up for some essentials before we went to bed: cheese, bread, wine, beer, and some breakfast fixings. A quick snack when we got back, and we fell into a coma.

Happily, we seem to have largely escaped jet lag, and we woke up to a sunny day, and a view of the courtyard we hadn't seen in daylight.

(My derp! moment of the day: waking up, looking out the window, and exclaiming "It's so quaint! So charming! It looks so European!" Mr.Q just gave me a look. "Oh, right. Hahaha! We are in Europe!"

Cooked up a hearty breakfast, put on our walking shoes, and headed out to explore the neighbourhood. Found a lovely little cafe, whose baristas were most understanding & helpful when Mr.Q ordered for us...See, he speaks a little high school German, enough to get by, but not much more. Me? I tell him what I want, and he translates for me. So the baristas were quite accomodating. One spoke some English; the other spoke German very slowly, with many gestures. We ended up with some fine coffee, and a sidewalk view of Prenzlauer-Berg on a Sunday.

(Thing I loved best about the place: the fleece wraps laying over the backs of the outside chairs!)

,

 Back "home" for a bit of a nap for me, while Mr.Q went out exploring for a bit on his own. He came back with flowers, and more beer.

 

 

 

 Now getting ready to head out to his first gig...and our first attempt at using transit here! The adventure continues!

Antici.....

I sense a pattern here...

Saturday morning. Mr.Q is out buying cat food so they don't eat us in our sleep, the greedy beasts. I have the place to myself, and can do anything I want. Anything. Secret things, all juicy and luscious. 

Like this!

French bread, lightly toasted; a thin slip of mayo, some 1-year-old white cheddar, and thick, messy slices of a "black" tomato the size of a baby's head. Dust it all with a hint of fresh-ground sea salt. Let eyes roll back into head while eating, to enhance the experience. Consider hiding the other half of the tomato, for a repeat performance tomorrow. 


(Hey, I shared the pear, didn't I?)

Heaven is a place on Earth...

...and that place is in my mouth!  


Specifically, this bit of tasty is - or rather, was - in my mouth:

That, my friends, is a saffron-poached pear. I think there was white wine and honey and some cinnamon involved, too. (No, I did not make it myself: I bought it at Whole Paycheque today, and it was worth every (surprisingly reasonable) penny!)


If ever Mr.Q doubts that I love him, I shall direct him to this post. Which I would like to close by pointing out that I saved half of this for him. Because I am just that awesome. 


(But sweetie, you should probably stop reading here, because I can't guarantee that there will be any of that heirloom tomato left for you, and I'd rather keep that dark little secret to myself. It's not you, it's me. And my unreasonable, irresistible lust for summer tomatoes. I always come back to you, though!)

Where have you been, Billy Boy?

I know, I know. I post a few teasers of Sock Summit, and I fall off the face of the earth again. (Sorry, Dad!) (Who may be the only person who still checks in here from time to time!)

In my defense, Sock Summit took some recovery time. And then it got me in trouble again. (Or, rather, SS09 did, as it re-awoke a taste for adventure & travelling, & the willingness to live on tuna casserole for months at a time in order to save the necessary pennies...)

First, there was SS09. Then, there was Rhinebeck & Montreal. Then, there was SS11 (with a few wee road trips & winery tours thrown in for local colour.) Since I came back from Portland this time, I've been largely occupied with knitting myself a new cardigan.  When not tangled up in skeins and skeins of yarn (delicious Miss Babs, from SS09!), I have been doing a ridiculous amount of internet research and planning, so as to have the best time possible while wearing this new sweater.

It turns out that this fall, we are going here for a week, and then spending another week going here, and here, and finally here.

The degree to which I am excited is ridonkulous. I am trying to only talk about it half the time, rather than all the time. There is regular flailing, of the Kermit variety, chez Q.

So, that's where I've been. And where I'm going!