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Monday, 22 February 2010 |
Berin Walking Tour. (Oct. 26, 2009)
I woke up earlier than I wanted and took advantage of this unfortunate accident by going on what was billed as a free walking tour. I walked to the meeting place in the crisp morning air, stopping into Dunkin Donuts for a quick cup of caffeine. Talk about sticker shock: the prices were literally four times as much as they were in Bangkok for some items . . . like the coffee I bought. The tour was excellent! Our guide was an American guy from Maine and about the same age as myself. His American accent reminded me that I would soon be back in the USA with family, friends, and familiar things. The tour guide is living in Berlin on something called an artist visa which I immediately started quizzing him about. (I'm always shopping for a new home!). Berlin still hasn't recovered from the effects of war; one of which is the mass exodus that went down after the wall fell. Something like 10% of the buildings currently sit abandoned and the population is nowhere near the city's potential capacity. Therefore, the government passes out these artist visas like candy in order to both increase population and to draw in people who will enhance Berlin's reputation as one of the world's most artistic and progressive cities. The mayor even said once, “Berlin is poor, but sexy.” However, the resident’s must not be that poor, if they can afford to keep Dunkin Donuts in business.
I had a few minutes before the tour began and wandered down the street finding the Kaiser
Wilhelm Memorial Church. It was bombed, but left as a reminder of the destructiveness of war.
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Back to the tour; it included a visit to the Brandenburg Gate, the Reichstag, a portion of the Berlin Wall, and a number of other interesting places. At one point the guide took us to a dirt parking lot and explained that Hitler died in a bunker below the ground we were standing on. He went on to say that the bunker had been destroyed and the government now used the area as a parking lot in an effort not to bring any attention to Hitler. The only time this location is remembered for its Nazi history is on New Years when people make an effort to go there to vomit after their celebrations. Nearby residents, he said, would also take their pets there to clean out their digestive systems.
The Brandenburg Gate, once a diving line between East and West Berlin.
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The Holocaust Memorial in Berlin is a concrete field with gigantic concrete blocks
protruding from the ground. The artist has never explained his vision to anyone.
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The Berlin Wall
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Living Statues at the Brandenburg Gate
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The Reichstag is where the German Parliament meets. The glass dome is a recent addition and popular
tourist attraction. It was built above the room where government sessions are held so the politicians can look
up through the glass ceiling and see the people above them.
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Havel River in Berlin.
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DZ Bank Interior. Designed by Frank Gehry to look like a whale... hopefully an abstract one.
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This is where Michael Jackson dangled his baby... sometimes we forget how crazy he was.
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The tour ended up being around 3 hours long and the guide gave a little sympathy speech in order to get some tips. Seeing as the pamphlet advertised this as a free tour, the cry for financial assistance would have normally ticked me off, but the guy was entertaining, cool, and thorough, not to mention he answered all of my annoying visa questions and gave me directions to a concert venue. I tipped him a few Euro and went to explore the museum we had ended the tour at. All of the exhibits were in German, so I was pretty bored. Redemption came in the basement where I discovered a mausoleum with ornate caskets adorned with skulls and creepy children. Just outside the mausoleum's exit was an “Einstein Coffee Shop.” I took an hour to savor a rather expensive late` before calling it a day.
The walking tour ended here. This is one of 6 or 7 museums in the nearby area, appropriately titled: Museum Island.
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The basement was a creepy mausoleum that I was sure only existed within soundstages in Hollywood.
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The skull adorning the casket on the left seems a bit morbid... there were plaques explaining everything, but it was all in German.
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Last Updated ( Tuesday, 23 February 2010 )
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Sunday, 14 February 2010 |
Berlin's Crackers. (Oct. 25, 2009)
I see white people, they're all around me. The good thing about being in Germany is that my white skin doesn't trigger any tourist alarms and I'm able to blend in... This wasn't the case in Thailand or Egypt. The sole exception are some of the beggars who ask if you speak English, then proceed to give you a card with a sad story at the beginning and a request for money at the end. I've started asking them if they can speak Thai (in Thai), and that's usually the end of our little discussion. If someone actually is able to understand or speak Thai, I'm totally prepared to fork over some cash for their cause, because that would be an accomplishment I couldn't achieve in my 3 years of living in Thailand. Anyway, the bad thing about blending in with the locals is that people start to ask you questions like you have some sort of clue as to what’s going on. Earlier today, an old lady started talking to me in a lengthy elevator ride and I totally had a conversation with her that consisted entirely of me laughing, nodding, and making random noises. She kept talking and I kept grunting. I had an internal laugh when she hopped off the lift none-the-wiser that I can't speak a lick of German. (Actually she didn't “hop of the lift” as she was quite old. It was more like a slither.) The transportation system in Berlin is even more extensive, efficient, and confusing than I originally thought. Fortunately Berliners are very friendly people. Three kind souls went out of their way to help me today. Even with all of the assistance, I somehow managed to miss my intended destination by three stops. I ended up on some random street and just decided to wander around. I found an awesome pretzel shop where my love for this city doubled on the first salty bite. 
The standard taxis in Germany are all Mercedes Benz
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The top level of one of the biggest train stations in Berlin... A far cry from the double line Skytrain in Bangkok.
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The guesthouse is unlike anything I’ve stayed in before; there are huge murals of naked fat angels and other creatures on the wall, all painted with a hippy flair- I like it. Despite the pleasant atmosphere, I do not enjoy the idea of sleeping in a dormitory. It is something I've only done once (in Singapore) because private rooms are very affordable throughout most of Southeast Asia and Egypt. Heck, even in Japan I was able to afford a private room.. albeit it was a cubicle at an internet cafe. Anyway, Berlin is beautiful! I truly do love the adventure of third-world locales, but it's very nice to be in a country that has clean buildings, even side-walks, and working street lamps. |
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Last Updated ( Sunday, 14 February 2010 )
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Thursday, 11 February 2010 |
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Guten Tag Berlin The flight from Cairo to Berlin seemed twice as long courtesy of a baby and its eccentric mother sitting next to me. Children under the age of two shouldn't be allowed on international flights... it's not like they appreciate where they're going in the first place. To avoid any frivolous lawsuits, perhaps the airlines should just schedule certain "baby friendly" flights every week or so; if it's so important for Baby Balinda to see Disneyland in Tokyo then her family can arrange their schedule accordingly. I'm well aware of the inconvience this would cause the baby's family, but think of all the flights that would suddenly be so peaceful. It's called taking one for the team people. Souless diatribe aside, I meandered down the airport corridors to immigration and was pleasantly surprised to receive a German stamp in my ragged passport. I attempted to decipher the transportation routes into the city as I waited for my abused baggage to arrive on the carousel. I collected my bags, converted what was left of my Egyptian Pounds into Euro and set out to find the S-Bahn. I would discover later that S-bahn was essentially the above ground train and U-Bahn was the subway. This was all lost on me at the moment however, and I awkwardly stood dumbfounded at the ticket machine hoping it would all be okay. A really cute German girl, sympathetic to stupid foreigners, walked up and gave me a quick rundown of the public transportation system along with her ticket which still has 2 hours of validity left. Yay for German girls!!! Maybe it was my exhaustion, the girl's attractiveness, or just the inherant complexity of the public transportation system, but I didn't remember a single thing about the train I was on or where I was supposed to go. My Ipod has an application with hotels and hostels listed so at the very least I had an address. I asked a few other people on the train for help with no avail; they were mostly tourists and in the same unfortunate situation I found myself in. Sitting across from me was this old German lady who knew just enough English for me to know she was crazy and wouldn't be of any worthwhile assistance. I hopelessly hopped off the train and began a guesthouse scavenger hunt walking through the cobblestone streets of Berlin. The trees were on fire with the glow of an autumn sun. After three years of eternal summer, it was nice to know that it was still possible for leaves to ripen into shades of burnt orange and apple red. This made being lost tolerable... almost enjoyable. And it would have been enjoyable had I been appropriately dressed for such weather, but Thailand and Egypt had left me suited for nothing but the sand and sea. 
Guesthouse #1 in Berlin, Germany.
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I found the guesthouse as night fell. It was on the bottom floor of an old historic building nestled on the corner of a quiet intersection. After some initial confusion over whether they had room for me or not, I was led back into a dorm and flopped onto the bed like jello... it was rather hard though, and this hurt. A friendly (and hot) German girl a few beds over offered me some chocolate. After refusing a few times, she began tossing them at me. We talked for a bit about my travels and she explained to me that she had just finished high school and was in Berlin with her friend to look at universities. She invited me to go out with them that night and enjoy the city. Berlin is known for its nightlife, and while I'm not big into the club scene -at all-, I very much wanted to experience the city's highlights. Having a cute semi-local girl as a friend and tourguide was most certainly a win-win situation, but I felt like death, and my weakening eyelids forced me to decline the invitation. I regretted this decision greatly in the minute or so it took me to fall asleep. The blame for this regret falls squarely on that stupid baby from the plane. Had the parents shut it up, I would have been full of energy and ready to go . . . maybe on the next trip to Berlin. |
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Last Updated ( Thursday, 11 February 2010 )
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Saturday, 23 January 2010 |
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1/25/2010 - Egyptian Photos I'm currently sitting in Starbucks since JoZoara is closed, and the atmosphere is very distracting. In between sips of a delicious cafe latte, I find myself glaring at my computer screen in hopes of some inspirational material to blog about. There is none. It's 10:30 PM and far too early for profound or mildly amusing attempts at humor. No, my brain doesn't really start churning out the good stuff until I'm ready for bed... at sunrise. This little sleep schedule of mine is really convienient when I need to get up for important things (insert sarcasm). People have made vampire jokes about my horrible sleeping habbits and as soon as I get the Tempur-Pedic coffin installed their metaphor will be spot-on. The Egyptian portion of my blog is finally completed, therefore you should now be reading about my arrival in Berlin. Unfortunately it has yet to be posted. I find it quite riduclous that my blog is nealry 3 months behind my life. Those who know me aren't surprised by this delay, but those who only know of me from family, friends or random Google searches are probably a bit irritated (Actutally they've probably just grown apathetic... But I like to feel important). Anyway, I didn't have a computer suitable for editing my photos while I was traveling through Egypt/Europe so the pictures had to wait until I got home. You can find the Egyptian gallery by clicking the "Photo Gallery" link to the right, or by clicking on the photo below. One little note... I've taken some advice and added an annoying watermark to my photos. But they are now of a higher resolution so you can click on them and they expand!!!! Oh the fun! 
My guide wanted to take this picture, which I agreed to pose for in order to illustrate one of my pet peeves
of travelling: Tourists who make stupid poses at famous places. This pose is also poular at the Eiffle
Tower in France, while idiots at the Leaning Tower of Pisa in Italy prefer to take their picture "leaning"
against the tower in order to hold it up. Anyway, click on photo and check out my Egyptian photo album!
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Last Updated ( Tuesday, 26 January 2010 )
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Wednesday, 13 January 2010 |
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A Sweet Farewell I’m fully aware that most people come to Egypt to view the pyramids, sail down the Nile, explore the Sahara and see the mummies. These activities are all well and good, but what excited me the most about Egypt was something far less special. It’s round, has cream cheese icing melting down its sides, and has about 700 calories. That's right! Egypt has Cinnabon! Let it be known that one of Thailand’s major flaws is that it DOES NOT have these shops of sweet goodness and my craving was left unsatisfied for nearly three long, hard years.
I had been trying to locate this Holy Grail of confection since my arrival in Egypt, yet here I was, ten days later with unfulfilled desire deep in my belly. So it had all come to this; my last ditch effort and the backup plan of backup plans. I was certain the airport had a Cinnabon tucked away somewhere deep in its corridors and I was poised to partake in its bounty before I left the country. The fact that I would be in America within a month did not escape me; this was about reaching a personal goal.
I woke up at 4:30 in order to share a taxi to the airport with a really nice Canadian lady I met at the hotel. Everyone knows I despise early wakeups, but she paid for the whole ride (I LOVE Canadians!). Based on my previous searches for Cinnabon, I correctly made the assumption this would be a time consuming quest. My arrival at the airport was met with a large heaping spoonful of disappointment: the store was located in another terminal. I hopped onto a bus that took me to Terminal 1 and was quickly met by some random Egyptian wanting to carry my bags. I knew he would want $$$ for the “help” and I refused to let him so much as get a decent view of my luggage. While I wasn’t willing to let this guy carry my increasingly heavy and worn out bags, I would have been more than happy to tip him for showing me to the Cinnabon. English was, for the most part, completely lost on this guy and I tried my best at Charades which was also apparently lost on this guy as well. At one point he was taking me through this seedy area beneath the parking garages. Exposed wires, broken glass and crumbling concrete surrounded me and I decided that this was not the type of décor usually associated with Cinnabon. I quickly retraced my steps back to the actual airport and ignored the guy’s demand for baksheesh (a tip).
Finding someone familiar with Cinnabon was like a horribly twisted game of Where’s Waldo where no one is wearing a candy-cane colored sweater. Success came in the form of a helpful airline agent who told me that it was in Corridor B near the Burger King. I walked up to security and was quickly denied entrance because my flight departed from another terminal. But where there's a will, there's a way: I slipped one of the security screeners 40 Egyptian pounds to retrieve the object of my desire. He returned and demanded even more baksheesh for his services. I reluctantly paid him and devoured three weeks worth of transfats in minutes. In retrospect, it's quite funny (or sad) that I'd pay $10 USD for a cinnamon roll, but wouldn't fork over $15 USD to climb one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Either way, it was money well-spent as I boarded the plane with a happy feeling in my happy stomach. Next stop: Berlin.
Egyptian Cinnabon: Mission Accomplished! Notice the cool Arabic script on the packaging!
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Last Updated ( Wednesday, 13 January 2010 )
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