Airplanes are not the most inspirational places to write for me.  However, after a whirlwind trip stomping from Berlin, Vienna, then Budapest, I felt I really needed to put some memories and thoughts to ink.  The stark reality of Communism post World War 2 seemed to thread through these three cities, and was what resonated most to me.  We live in a world where our voices have never been louder, where boundless opportunities exists for just one single good idea, where red tape and corners are all cut, and yet we still walk in circles.

Amongst all the places I have visited so far in my life, Berlin was the one that left an indelible sorrow in my heart.  I don’t want to typecast a city that is bustling, full of unique and interesting perspectives, and heaving in character and attitude into a sad parade - this is not my intention at all.  But amongst the groups of tourists huddling together in Checkpoint Charlie, the hipster cool of Markthalle Neun (which reminded me sorely of my local South Melbourne Market in Melbourne), and the late night glass of wine at Cordobar, I was stung.  

We were walking along the West side of the Berlin Wall on the East Side Gallery - a graffitti installation that arose from the ‘fall’ of the Berlin Wall, where artists were invited to paint anything of their choosing to represent the times.  Section by section in the West Side of the wall were urban art, some satirical, some dark and comedic, some so iconic that the tourist in me just couldn’t help but snap away. But it was in the East Side of the wall where my happy snaps turned into a need to document, to collect memories not just for me but for the collective whole.  Along the picturesque, calm and tranquil Spree River, the walls on the other side spoke of Communist terror, of unknown fears, of shattered trust.  On the wall were interviews from survivors - a dissident, a child, a gay man, and with each of their harrowing tale a mural of a silhouette, with a quote that summarized the hopelessness they encountered.  

Their stories were grim.  There were no happy endings to any of them - their interviews left as if their struggle to reconcile continues, befouled, everlasting, into the sunny day, the glistening river, the lovers making out on the bench nearby.  

When you look at photos of ancient monuments of Greece and Rome, scattered around bus stops and train stations, you see the ingenuity of our predecessors.  The wars they waged, the cruelty of their emperors - they don’t affect us anymore because it’s been so so long ago.  It is not part of our reality anymore - we the moralistic man, have seen the better light. We have evolved, have marched into the future adamant that the world, day by day, is a better place.  What lies we tell ourselves.

Berlin is beautiful for its blatant pain.  The scars still looked raw, but they are not shy to show their battle wounds.  Nazi Germany’s horror is shown bare - without even a loincloth to leave anything to the imagination - in the permanent exhibition Topography of Terror.  Part of the Wall lies beside it, heavily graffitied with names and grievances and despair.  There are no masks here.  The only exception was of Hitler’s former home and bunker, nonchalantly now a Chinese restaurant alongside apartment blocks and a children’s playground, with nothing more than an indistinct plaque stating its unnerving history.

But the yellow luscious autumn trees in a backdrop of concrete and grey skies atoned for this communal anguish.  The city was a-bustling - Berliners rush to catch the metro, line up for a nicely grilled currywurst, down beers in the picturesque biergartens.  And I and James sat outside the patently named wine bar not only Riesling on our very last day in this resilient city, amongst the yellow trees and across from a red-tiled church called Passionskirche, each of us with a glass of Weingut Michel Silvaner, basking in the rare October sun and comfortable in each other’s silence.  Pain goes on, but so does life, so does hope.

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In an effort to lighten this all up, here are some actual fun stuff that we did in Berlin!  Recommendations alert!

1) Defo do a walking tour, especially this one - the Original Europe Tours Berlin Edition.  I think there are paid ones on this site but we honestly just went for a free tour and it was worth every minute.  Our tour guide was funny, informative, and energetic, and even though the group size was kinda large (from memory about 15), it didn't matter too much.  It was filled with anecdotes and surprising facts.  Make sure you tip though!

2) KaDeWe is an upmarket department store right in front of Wittenbergplatz Train Station.  It's like any other mall really, except they have a pretty cool food court on the top level perfect for food-gawking. For actual eating, walk around Wittenbergplatz and you will find a narrow, winding market that's got some real food happening.  Some of the best currywurst, lentil soups, falafel, pork chop buns are sold for peanuts.  Make sure you get some Berliners (donuts)!

3) I mentioned Cordobar wine bar in the blog.  Awesome for pre-dinner especially if you are really into natural wines.  Had a thoughtful philosophical discussion here with the sommelier regarding the course of natural wines - so yes, they know their stuff.  We had a funky, experimental Clemens Busch that tasted like lemonade, kombucha and brine with a flat fizz - omg :)

4) Prior to the trip we wanted to scale up and pretend to be rich so we stayed at the InterContinental Berlin.  Don't.  Sorry.  It's old, fuddy-duddy, and served us a Negroni in a stemmed liqueur glass.  Yummy still, but weird.  However, the real highlight was the walk from the hotel to the main part of the city, as this gets you either through, or at the edge, of Tiergarten Park.  It is glorious, and it felt like stepping into one of Grimm's fairytales.

5) Markthalle Neun is super cool - organic, biodynamic, hipster, hippie, Melbourne-esque.  I got some of the coolest gifts for friends and for myself here from Studio Oppermann - they stock, amongst many other things, a monastic style liqueur made in Berlin called KR/23, and an amazing gin that uses cucumbers grown along the Spree River. 

6) Go for a show.  We went to Chamaleon Theatre for an acrobatic show .  The theatre was great, really old-school and charming, and on top of that, the little complex that housed Chamaleon Theatre had a lot of cute shops selling bespoke gifts.  My favourite shop, hardly bespoke but still pretty cute, is the Ampelmann shop, which is dedicated to the green traffic lights man unique to Berlin.

There's many more!  Hit me up if you're on your way to Berlin, and need some pointers!