Biking through Berlin

The other night, when my roommate held a concert in his room, I stayed up until 2 am. And after writing until 5 am yesterday, finishing the part of the book I have been working on during my month here in Berlin, I allowed myself to sleep until 10 am today.

But apart from that I've been the strictest I've ever been with myself, getting up at 8 am, doing yoga and writing a couple of hours before 12, to be able to get lots out of the city, on top of doing what I came here for. With this daily schedule I've had the time and space needed to write, but also lots of energy for the city itself. And Berlin has given me plenty back for my time spent. The best part is it even helps my writing, both to get up early and to get out of the house around noon, see new things and meet new people, and so I can write it off as research time.

Of course I've seen the major sights of the city, but as they are well covered by others who also feel the need to write about, and share, what they've seen, I won't.
Instead, here are a few of my favourite things:

THE BIKE
I am going to state that, if you haven't seen Berlin from a bike, you have not seen Berlin. (If you're doubting this to be true, you haven't tried it. Or maybe you did it wrong! There must have been something wrong with your bike. No, let's not blame the bike; if you're doubting my statement, you don't like biking enough!) A week into my stay I got to borrow a bike from some Norwegians that were out of town, and the first full day with my Norwegian beauty (of the brand DBS: The Best Bike, in Norwegian), I thought Why not move here? Which I am not planning to do, at least not right away, but I think it is a great thought to have when visiting a city. I already started feeling nostalgic about leaving about a week ago, already feeling like this city has become a home to me. When I leave here tomorrow morning, I am traveling on only with fond memories of my stay here. And the more I get to know the city, the more I am sure that it has yet more to offer; it's a city I am sure I will, if not live in, definitively visit again.

THE AREA
I've spent a lot of time on my desk, overlooking a traffic junction, watching with glee when the rain has started pouring (again), and people have been running for cover. Or the thousands of people who run for the tram every day, their kids hardly capable of keeping up, arms and legs everywhere. And though I feel slightly nostalgic even about the traffic junction, it's the small streets of Prenzlauer Berg I've fallen in love with. Biking home from whereever, the side streets of PB always seem quieter, cuter, more friendly. Which might mainly be because PB is the area I've spent most of my time, the fact that I've biked all the little streets, and now know them by heart. The streets around Scönhauser Allee U-bahn station and Geshsemanekirche is packed with cafés and little shops, the same goes for the area around Jüdischer Friedhof, which is closer to Senefelderplatz U-bahn station. At Cuffaro in Kollwitzstrasse you find €2 pizza slices. Saint Georges in Wörther Strasse offer books in English, some new, decent prices, some used and very cheap; however good conversations about the books are free of charge.

MY FAVOURITE CAFÉ
For the first time traveling to stay alone for a month, finding a café to fill my need for "a safe haven" seemed somewhat urgent. The few times I've ended up having a regular café, the owners or workers somehow become parental figures for me; not the type that sit down and talk about intimate things, but they provide me with a feeling of safety, they make sure I eat and that I have a cappuccino a day. And they do what it takes to make sure I feel welcome, that I feel at home; upon arriving anywhere new I intuitively look for that. Not knowing anyone here when I first arrived, having somewhere to "come home to" every afternoon has been of the utmost importance. The solitude of being alone in a strange city works very well for my writing, but I am indeed a social being, and knowing that at least the parrots in the cage between the café and the bathroom door will try to make conversation, is nice.

Parrots? Yes, Slörm has parrots. I stumbled upon Slörm on my first day, when it became my shelter from a rain storm of biblical proportions, and I've been there most afternoons reading since. The atmosphere is relaxed, the chairs comfy, the coffee good, the sandwiches yummy, the juices magnificent, and the people friendly and welcoming. They have a great selection of both sandwiches and juices; my favourites being Mozzarella sandwich, and Mos Def juice, one of the ingredients being beetroot. You find them on Danzige Strasse 53.

THE REST
Alte Nationalgaleri is worth a peek, though the audio guide is only so and so (but free). However, if you have time only for one museum during your stay, I would recommend Pergamonmuseum. If you know nothing before you get there, do not fear: start off with the free audio guide's 'high lights tour' to get an overview of the museum (takes about half an hour), and then dash around exploring on your own. The Berlin Wall Monument at Bernauer Strasse is worth seeing, but to me the East Side Gallery was a grander experience. Walking alongside it I was extremely moved. Maybe because it is a reminder of how much what has been still is; the many aspects of Berlins history still a part of Berlins everyday, but also a part of the world; the art on the Wall reflecting difficult political and social situations, not only in Berlin, but its alike all over the world.

"My God, help me to survive this deadly love."

Though outside the city, I will also recommend a trip to Sachsenhausen, the concentration camp is located less than an hour away. (You can get there with the U-bahn, only € 3 one way.) My grandfather was there for three years during the war, and I am glad I took time to spend nearly a day there. I am also glad I had company, because there was a strong need to debrief after. Even with a personal link to the tragedy it feels impossible to actually understand, but it feels important not to forget, and not to become oblivious to what happened during the war. Biking down to the Jewish Memorial, close to Brandenburger Tor and Tiergarten, seemed like the only way to contemplate what I cannot fathom actually was done by human hands. Walking between the large stone structures, the larger they got, I could not help but feel extremely small and alone. The sun, and the sounds of the city further and further away, Berlin being all this; the friendly side streets welcoming you to stay, filled with people, kids running, someone playing the piano on the second floor with the window open; and the history, the sadness, the balance between contemplative thoughtfulness and the guilt that still seems to be a part of a population, even those who wasn't even born when blood was shed.