We spent a long time on the mens and womenswear floors, looking at all the stupidly expensive clothes and hats and gloves. Why pay 10 dollars for a plain white tshirt when you can pay 700? Bargain. The food floor was pretty much heaven, too, all the cooking done teppanyaki-style right out in the open. I stared at a chef making potatoes in a pan for like 10 minutes, and then glared at the man that got to eat them. He didn't share or anything. One weird thing though was the smell, and this seems to go for all of Berlin. It's built on very swampy ground, so maybe it's like the bog underneath, but you're walking along and all of a sudden ... eggs! Sulphur! Poo! Garbage! It's gross, but I guess would be good if you were really gassy, because no-one would know if you farted or if it was just the city. Flatulent people of the world, Berlin is your homeland.
Last night Jes and I did something we're not so proud of. We went on a tourist pub crawl. We figured it couldn't be THAT bad, they promised to show us some cool bars, and we'd meet people and be social, and if it was funny then at least we had a good story to share. Well. 10 Euro gets you a round of pre-drinks at the designated meeting spot - the train station, outside, standing around drinking warm beers. Classy. Then we walk to the first bar. It's ok, we sit outside, meet this 19 year old guy from Tasmania called Trent who is a bit of a tool but nice enough maybe. It's me, Jes, Trent, and these two Norwegian girls from our dorm who we originally thought were a bit fucked, but turned out to be not so bad. (We judged them based on a 4am-lights-on episode, which was pretty rude, but whatever.) The pub crawl people gave us free cherry liqueur, which was quite tasty. I wasn't feeling so good from the daytime, so wasn't planning on staying out late or participating in much of the festivity, but one shot wasn't going to kill me.
The second shot, though. Wow.
So we leave the first bar and congregate in an alleyway - maybe 50 of us? 70? - led by this American called Jock or Jake or Jimmy or Dickhead, I don't remember. The 'free shots' at the next bar were to take place RIGHT NOW, in the alleyway. Basically, we were meant to line up, and he walked past and poured Jaegermeister directly into our mouths, making sure to rub it all over our lips so it got all good and salivary. Uh, how about no? Deciding hepatitis wasn't really for us, Jes and I stood back and watched the packs of British and Australian men wrestle for prime position under the bottle..
We were beginning to think maybe the night wasn't going to be so amazing after all, but headed off to the next bar. On the way, we encountered several members of the group doing wees on the footpath and in the bushes. The 5 minute walk was too much for them apparently, they just had to do it right then, in public, in front of the whole crowd. It must have something to do with wanting to have their penises as close as possible to the women at all times. The second bar smelled like syphilis, but at least the sambucca shots came in cups. The third bar was an underground den that wasn't terribly bad - we danced a bit and had a beer - and it was at this point of the night that the couples started to form. One, at least, had a very public pash in the middle of the bar, and people even took photos of them. The whole night was like one big mating ritual, men running around headbutting each other and calling each other fags and then touching their balls, and the girls would stumble along in their heels and then say "Oh my god" a whole bunch of times, and then their breasts would fall out of their tops. Humans should be locked in cages and studied. We randomly bumped into Kelsey on the street, and forced her to come with us, which I'm sure she appreciated.
The last bar was totally, 100%, amazingly worth it. Wow. It was called Studio 54, and is the bottom floor of this massive six-level squat/artist space. The bar is pretty lame inside, but outside is a massive garden, all sand, and littered with junk. Basically a junkyard bar, with fairylights and big installation pieces and bands and stools to sit on. It was amazing. The graffiti and stencils on the walls were so tight, and you can look up into the windows of the artists spaces above you. I didn't get any photos, but we'll go back and I'll take some. Then we went up into the squat. Basically, from what I heard and understand, artists can live there for free and use the space as their studio so long as the rooms remain open at all times as gallery spaces. So sculptors and painters and 'street' artists all live in this big building that's totally run down, but it's stunning. Their rooms are set up like galleries, and they sell their art, and it's all really rough and German and so tight. Trent had an argument with a guy that makes t-shirts about knowledge or something, Trent claiming that his 19 years meant he was as wise as this 45 year old dude, and the dude disagreed. Little boys weeing in corners. And then, as we were leaving, we looked up and there was this incredible... I don't know how to explain it. Do you remember the film 'The Beach'? In once scene they light these lanterns, paper lanterns, and release them into the night, and the wind picks them up and they fly away? So we're standing outside this amazing place and there's like a flotilla of glowing lanterns floating through the sky above us, like 15 or 20 of them. They looked like aliens or something.
Rather than follow the rest of the group on to the final destination, a big nightclub, Jes and I decided we'd had enough and headed back to the hostel. We should have assumed that 'pub crawl' meant 'crawl over broken glass and broken morals', but we didn't think. All in all, though, a good night, and at least we had some buddies there to laugh at the whole thing with.
This morning Kelsey, Jes and I went with Canadian Steph and a few of her friends to this flea market where there was a whole lot of cool stuff, little knick knacks and whatnot. I was going to buy this doll of a witch, but it was made from straw and wood and stuff and maybe wouldn't have got back through customs. I guess it probably would, but anyway.
Tomorrow and Tuesday:
Revisit Checkpoint Charlie museum and the Topography of Terror, an exhibition set up where you can walk along the Nazi interrogation chambers.
Sachsenhauser concentration camp.
Wednesday we're not 100% sure on yet, we've got to go through our guide book and pick some stuff.
I'm feeling a bit gross at the moment, my tummy is not well at all, so I'm just going to not eat anything for a little bit and try and sort it out. Maybe just bananas. No bread, no meat, no processed or refined anything, drink lots of water. I've basically turned into a sandwhich from all the bread I've eaten, it bloats you so much. But it's cheap and easy. Argh.
Our hostel is super great, the people we've met have been cool, and the breakfast is good, the rooms clean and the bizarre music playing at weird times always hilarious - death metal over breakfast? Sure thing. We're in a cool location, too, in the old East, the old Soviet quarter I guess. There are areas that have been really built up since the fall of the Wall that look great and modern, but there are really poor looking areas, too, that remind me a lot of Croatia, kinda war-torn and decrepit and buildings falling down, or just boring looking and brown and in severe disrepair. You turn a street and the buildings are totally different.
Also, people here HATE it when you pat their dogs on the street. In 2 days, Jes and I have both been glared at and had dogs pulled away from us while we've been saying hello. Whatever.
I'd better go book some accommodation for Prague, cos we have none! Whoops.
More soon, including photos. Jes and I haven't had any fights so far, but maybe the German anger will rub off on us. Only time can tell...
That's Jes, Kelsey and me, just before Kelsey left for Prague this afternoon. She's real cool, from Seattle, super funny and nice and normal. It's sad we don't get to hang out with her anyway. We're Facebook friends now though, so that's basically friends forever.
xd
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