Falling for Berlin

What a great fucking city. Oh. My. God.

And also, why is everything in North America ugly and stupid?

I'll probably get over that once I get home and get used to things again. But why do buildings have to be ugly? Why can't there be side of the road cafes everywhere? Why can't there be nice bike lanes and trees all over the place?

People had told me that they enjoyed drinking beer on the streets and the u-bahn and the laundromat, and I said mmm-hmm. But I love it. Why shouldn't I drink a beer in the hot spring sun while walking down a leafy mixed-use street? Lots of people coming home and going out and drinking coffee, or beers, or tea?

North Americans are uptight about stupid shit.

I'm uptight about stupid shit, and I can see that when I'm here. When I travel, I always have these fantasies about being who I'm not. A few days back and I settle into my old groove again. Happily so, for the most part.

It took me a day or two to get over the crazy start to this trip, but now it feels like it happened to some unlucky schmuck who was not this unlucky schmuck.

The days have been a blur. Every so often I jot down stuff we've done, if only to keep track. We've spent a couple of afternoons now in Kreuzberg, eating in a couple of places around our apartment in Prenzlauer-Berg. Taking the U-Bahn hither and yon, thinking about The Wren and Mae and Eric, all of whom have raved to us about how wonderful this city is. None of whom we really got until we got here.

I would move here in a flash. Though I doubt they've much need of English-only librarians - or at least English-only librarians who start speaking French whenever they open their mouths to ask a Berliner a question - so I can keep it as a little dream seed for when Ottawa grates.

We're leaving tomorrow for Dublin. I feel a bit bad for Dublin, you know. I'm sure it's a very nice city, but I can't imagine loving it. I can't imagine falling in love with it the way I have with Berlin. With Edinburgh, Chicago, New York before Berlin. I don't want Dublin to feel second rate when I get there, but I can't imagine.

Everything in my brain is a kerfuffle of colours and buildings and museums and smells. I'd like to write more about the specifics of what I've seen and what we've done, but at the moment, can't imagine what bits might pull out to make you good stories.

Tonight we're heading back to Kreuzberg again, to Indo-Chinese food and a lezzie bar with fur on the walls. I'm sure I might be able to find you a good one there.