After a quick foray into Italy and a dream come true snowboarding in the Alps I arrived in what I thought was Berlin in the grips of Spring. Ehhh… Spring stayed home sick this month.
The city was blanketed with snow and icy cold from dawn till dusk, with temperatures consistently in the negative numbers. There were whispers eerily reminiscent of Game of Thrones’ catchphrase, only replacing ‘winter’ with ‘spring’. Spring is coming, said every Berliner I talked to, period. But I guess I deserved the response since all I ever had to say was through chattered teeth and amounted to “F**k its cold”. People get sick of hearing about how cold it is, especially when they have lived through 6 months of cold weather, as opposed to 6 days.
Despite the weather Berlin was vibrant and active, with overly busy streets and stations and bars and clubs all welcoming dreary faces into their warm bellies, and when beer is cheaper than coke or water and every corner boasts the “Best Kebabs in Berlin”, I was certainly impressed. If only they signposted the clubs, all would be okay. Google maps doesn’t even know most of the time.
Berlin seems a little like New York, with something to do most any time of day but with the edge of local know-how required to find said activities. Then you have to hope the bouncer likes what you are wearing. I feel as though the city has a deep end, one which you can only find once you are a seasoned local. So here’s to cheap beer and swimming pool metaphors – hopefully the ice melts soon…