Two elderly women. Women of a certain age. Bejewelled. Bedazzled. Where is Fellini when you need him? Big-haired, caked makeup, crayoned on eyebrows, fat false eyelashes, puckered lips, grey pigment smokers’ skin.
Everywhere you go, you hear different languages spoken. In one café, a united nations of customers. What a delight. It’s almost possible to believe that the café could be located anywhere in London, Paris, Milan, or in another European city.
I know a few people who live in Berlin. Most of them are single. One of my friends who is single, has an extended circle of family and friends. Some of the others apparently have… what?... actually, they only have their work. Literally only that. No one to meet for a drink, a stroll along the waterways. Not even someone to call and ask how he or she is doing. What an odd concept of existence they live.
I’d love to come back here this summer with Nomad Son and Nature Girl. There is something very inviting about this city. It promises joyful and interesting encounters with various people and cultures.
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