Once upon a yesterday, there traveled a small Filipina girl from San Francisco. She'd wandered far and wide, sipping coffee at every cafe she stubbled upon and staring fiercely into the scenery behind a single pair of Ray Bans. She was always ready to try whatever the world was willing to offer her. One day, the San Franciscan we shall call Krys, was invited by an old lover to wander out with the Germans, in the raucous city where electronic music was born. Krys had never been to such a place as Berlin and was curious to know what all the fuss is about behind all of the rumors that made this city so unique. So right away she went. Even in the early stages of her Berlin adventure, there was already promise for yet another trip to remember, to remind herself what a lucky son-of-a-bitch she truly is.
(Winding down at Caffe Del Moro along the artsy Linientstrße.)
Speeding from the airport to downtown Mitte, where she will be staying with this old flame, she was already taking pictures with no prisoners through the lenses of her camera imbedded in her mind. Like a true tourist, she must have looked like a well choreographed exhibition of excitement. Immediately, she could tell the art scene was massive. Just look around, the best art is found in the streets of Berlin. There was so much great street art, so much a single being could contain. Starting in the middle of the city, there are many galleries along the parallel streets of Linienstr and Auguststr (the US equivalent to Shattuck and Telegraph in the Bay Area, with a touch of New York's Chelsea district). The big ones there were KW, C/O and Tacheles, squatted department stores that contained several galleries, artist studios, hip bars and even a retro cinema that housed only the best Charlie Chaplin flicks.
(Painted murals by the famous Brazilian street artist Os Gêmios and Italian street artist Blu, both located in Freidrichstain.)
Giddy with anticipation, she weaved through the herd of tall blue-eyed blondes, ready to embrace her long awaited prince. But alas, she realized immediately that he was no longer the prince she'd once loved and kept close in her dreams. Poof, he'd become a pumpkin! A kind and generous pumpkin, but a pumpkin nonetheless. A pity, she'd hoped to reunite with a true loves kiss and come to realize her true heart's desire. Rather than cultivating romance from nothing, she rolled with the nonexistent chemistry and continued on her journey alone.
(Baiz Cafe gives forewarning to all their customers.)
At dusk, the sound of house music began to spew from every entrance of every bar within the vicinity. The nightclub sounds mixed poorly into the streets, creating more of a white noise than anything worth grooving to. Krys was surprised to find only one pub that played rock music from her motherland. This pub, named Baiz, also had a sign over the door that translated "no budweiser, no lattes, no bullshit." Finally, she found her home away from home! In she went, as if her fairy godmother was waiting impatiently inside. Dosing in and out of the cigarette cloud, Krys couldn't help admiring a German hipster boy hanging by the corner of the bar, reading through his novel in peace over the blaring lo-fi. When he looked over and smiled at the small Filipina, she felt as if he was tugging on her heart strings. "When will she receive her true loves kiss?", she wondered.
(The Holocaust Memorial)
The following day, Krys was off to enjoy all modern art at the Hamburger Bahnhoff Museum, which is not far away in the shadow of the TV tower. "It's like the Space Needle!", cried the traveling foreigners. Climbing up the top of the tower, she'd hoped to stand before a beautiful damsel in distress. Instead, she stood before a revolving restaurant - expensive but with a very amazing view of the whole city. Museum Insel has a ton of museums crammed into a small space. Krys spent the entire day on this magnificent island, then walked down Unter Den Linden to the Brandenberg Gate and into the park. Just before the Gate, she immediately noticed the infamous Hotel Adlon, where MJ held his handkerchief baby out the window! Next to the gate, across from the park was the amazing Holocaust Memorial, where Krys found herself lost in a sea of concrete slabs. She could already feel the magnitude of Jewish victims during the Holocaust as she walked through the grid. A block or two from Checkpoint Charlie was the Martin-Gropius-Bau, a cool mini-museum Krys stumbled upon along with some remaining sections of the wall.
(Brandenberg Gate)
Speaking of the wall, what made her trip worthwhile was the East Side Gallery. This is a long walk along part of the remaining Berlin Wall which is covered with murals. This is what people expect to see in Berlin and, as expected, Krys was blown away at the international memorial of freedom. She felt quite privileged. Behind the wall along the river, Krys strolled right into a nice little reggae beach bar called Yaam, and showed all the Europeans how to shake their booty Bay Area style. Across the water were some other ones like Kiki Blowfeld, Badeschiff and Klub de Visionaire. (Unfortunately, her phone was out of batteries at that point, and she missed a lot of beautiful photo opportunities for you all to see.)
(East Side Gallery)
One innate quality of a Filipino is the art of haggling, when two parry back and forth managing to arrive at a price which neither party to the transaction would consider it "robbery". When Krys needs to truly enjoy one of these special moments, she'll either go to Chinatown or a flea market. And Flohmarket am Mauerpark is an exceptional place to go watch the wonderfully frustrating dance between customer and salesperson. With speed and accuracy, Krys found exquisite handmade clothing, possibly stolen bikes, and even managed to haggle a vintage accordion for 3 euros! She also found to chatting with robots, stuffed her tiny belly with delicious donners, and managed to find other Filipino-like activities such as... KARAOKE!
(Flohmarket am Mauerpark)
Damn, Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg is beautiful. The streets are paved with cobblestone, the graffiti leaned more towards fine art, and you can faintly hear accordion music in the distance. And having a cupcakery in the area really is the cherry on top to this beautiful neighborhood.As suggested by a veteran Berlin DJ, Krys went out one night for some late night dancing at Panorama Bar and Watergate, which are best when both floors are open. They are only open on the weekends, and it was suggested that she go to these places between 4 to 6 in the morning. "And don't even think about leaving before noon!," the DJ exclaimed, as he flipped through the pages of Zitty Magazine. By the stroke of dawn, off she went with all of the most beautiful, hot mess hipsters, gathering once again to free themselves under the electronic disco ball. Krys along with the hot messes witnessed yet another spectacular sunrise as they continued to run out and play. "This is some serious partying…," Krys whispered wearily to herself.
(Another much needed coffee break at Sankt Oberholz.)
Berlin is full of charm, more charm than even Paris could hold. Getting off the train at random stops, Krys would stop to discover typical streets with more charm than she could have ever imagined. Even the benches she'd sit on is charming. It's so charming here, people openly display their affection for one another without shame or pause. Throughout this lovely city, she would find love in pairs. In transit, a mother and daughter share a warm baguette together. A man gives his son a ride on his fatherly shoulders. A romantic embrace between two lovers on a bridge, completely oblivious to the crowd of stares they've attracted. She knew at that moment, between the pair of loves, time stands still. And in that moment, she felt completely alone.
(Two lovers get lost in transit.)
Krys has placed herself in many situations, traveling the same way she strolls through the easy streets of San Francisco and the greater Bay Area. She is famous for laughing out loud among her invisible company, with no concern for how odd she must have looked hanging out, be it on a train, at a bar, or in a crowded club. The glory of feeling completely alone is that it has instilled confidence in her, knowing that she's becoming the woman that she always hoped to be. Patient, kind, and loving to herself… and then having the ability to love others. Krys continues on, with the quiet hope that someone will find her missing slipper and will be moved by the gestures of her toes. They'll serve their purpose together and live happily ever after. Until then, she'll love this city and everything it stands for and seeks to instill.
(The U2 line towards Pankow, a photo reminder of which train to take back home.)
On her last night in Berlin, Krys sits on a quiet bridge somewhere in Mühlenstraße, admiring the stillness of the river. Just beyond the trees by the riverbed was the brightest, fullest moon. Krys decided then that nobody could ever tell her it was the same moon that she had admired before. The truth is she has always enjoyed her solitude, and this moment was no exception. Upon realization, her fairy godmother magically appears out of thin air, ready to take her back to the land they called home.
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