Subway Ride Out To Berlin Suburbs

30ish man dawning 60ish sideburns,
Nice business suit, pleasant face
Sits across from me on the subway car
Reading a library book titled,
“Divorce without Losers”.
Is knowing the answer not worth
The price of the book?
Is he trying to figure out
Where he went wrong?

On my way to Berlin

The gods willing, I am on my way down to Berlin tomorrow for the rest of the week. I am very excited because this is going to be less a business trip and more a furious whirlwind visit with different friends: old and new. Maybe I'll write sort descriptions of the women I am meeting up with. They have facinating diverse interests and personalities.

I'm making no promises. If the weather is good and the coffee steamy, I just might spend my whole time walking and talking. There's no better way to spend a few days, is there?

Heading Home

It's been a wonderful, if not a veryvery busy time in Berlin. One friend wrote to say I seem to "jump into a train" to Berlin in much the manner she decides to drive down to her supermarket. This observation reflects more my lightness of spirit and willingness to come here, but not the physical trails of getting here. Leaving work and, more importantly, family is far less easy.

What an trip it has been, will have to write about it at a later point in time.

Too Much Fun

Sorry, guys, I'm having too much fun in Berlin at the moment to drop on by your blogs, let alone write anything of consequence in this one. The sun is shinning! My son is due to arrive any moment now. My friends are wandering the streets, museums, and monuments of this great city. I have an appointment with a new collaborator in our art project. This is just one fine day. Hopefully, it is the same your way.

Seen from the Train

A large car wash and garage called Auto-Kneipe, or Car Bar.

(Knowing the way some of the fellows I work with think about their cars, I can see that the image of going off with their cars for a drink might hold some appeal.)

In the one strip of sunlight on the journey down to Berlin, there is a harvested field, green with a light powdering of grass, spotted with sea green/blue plastic-covered hay rolls. The herd of cows in the foreground are dwarfed by the size of the hay bails. It looks like a painting of rural modernism for the Tate Museum. As the train rides past, a fleet of birds fly up high, adding a poetic accent to the surrealistic landscape.

A tennis club’s clay courts lie lonely on this late autumn afternoon. Fallen autumn leaves are sprinkled over their wet surfaces. There is so much rainwater on the courts that the clay shines an intense orange-red hue.

Pompous Old Fool

This is the third café story that I wrote during my recent trip to Berlin. The gods willing, I'm off again next week for another visit. I hope to gather more stories while I am there.

He’s obviously derives much pleasure in hearing himself speak. More so than listening to what the other two at the table have to say.

Speaking forcefully, vehemently, he expounds upon the charms of New York, while sitting in a charming café in the middle of Charlottenburg in Berlin. The sun is shinning. The cappuccino lush. Where does this pompous old fool find the energy to continue his tirade?

His table guests try to change the direction of his bitter words. First, by posing leading questions towards other directions. These, he ignores. Then, they offer light humour. An insult to his immense (ego) intelligence.

He snaps his fingers impatiently at the waitress. More bread. His soup is not quite to his satisfaction. His table guests slide into their own conversation, while he arranges things to his satisfaction. He interrupts their conversation to complain about mundane idiosyncrasies of his life. Their facial expressions become strained. Not noticing, he continues on and on.

His voice carries across the room and invades my solitary side order of salad. Making me close my eyes and feeling his abrasiveness scrap across my mind. Leaving traces of irritation.

I wish him well. I wish him gone.

Berlin Day Trip

Yesterday, I had the joy of walking the streets of Berlin for the day. A long exhausting and exhilarating day’s outing.

I decided to try out the Google Map embedded function. It works quite simply, though I haven’t quite figured out how to add in photos and links to the various map markings.


Größere Kartenansicht

The highlight of the day was going to see an exhibit at the Remise, Jaeger Street 51. The Remise also holds public music events. If only I lived in the city…

Places and People of Berlin

We arrived back from our weekend visit to Berlin safe and sound. Very exciting visit. Lot's of people to see, places to go, and things to do.

If you want to see the first slideshow (here) of the places we visited, please give it a look. Besides one or two photos that I took, the photos were taken by Nomad Son.

We were nine, total, staying at Rosa and Ruediger's home. Imagine being able to offer six guests bed and board! They did so with much grace. Here is the second slideshow with all these various wondeful people.

The only regret is that I didn't have the time to visit with a few friends. Next time. I promise...

O’ To Berlin

We went into town yesterday. Nomad Son and I were thinking of taking photos. Others of us, were hoping to hit the shops. Or, do some sightseeing.

Just after we parked our car, we took these photos.

About five of them.

Just warming up, as it were.

And, then the battery went dead.

Reading Endangers Dullness

On the way home from work, I got off the bus a few stops early and went to my two favourite shops. First, the natural food store, to pick up the condiments for dinner: white asparagus with Hollandaise sauce, potatoes, a mixed salad with fresh dates, mango, and avocado.

Then, my favourite local bookseller, Catarina to pick up some books I ordered in German:

• Measuring the World, by Daniel Kehlmann
• Nachtrichtnen aus einem unbekannten Universums (literal translation: News from an unknown Universe), by Frank Schaetzing (who also wrote The Swarm: A Novel of the Deep)
• The Monstrous Memoirs of a Mighty McFearless, by Ahmet Zappa (his father, Frank Zappa, was one of my teenage heros)
• Die Rückkehr des Hexenmeisters (literal translation: The Return of the Witch Master), by Kai Meyer

Catarina has some tote bags from a large publishing company with the printed slogan “Lesen gefährdet die Dummheit” on them. This loosely translates as Reading Endangers Dullness. Though Dummheit is much more than just dullness: fatuity, brutishness, foolery, stupidity, etc.

My dear friend, Maria, two of her daughters, Nomad Son, Nature Girl, and I are all converging Friday on Rosa in Berlin for the long weekend. So, my first and only thought, as far as travel preparations goes, was to secure proper reading material for the journey.

Berlin is slowly but surely becoming one of my favourite big cities. There is a large street festival going on in Kruezberg this weekend, which should be lots of fun.

My Highlight In Berlin

Talk about jumping over the chasm between country bumpkin and city chic, older and young generation, outsider and insider… one of the highlights of our trip to Berlin was attending a dinner (and dance) rave in an abandoned turn of the 20th century post office. I met with a friend last Thursday at a café in Hackescher Markt. He told me about this dinner and dance rave scene. No advertising. No public address. The restaurant/dance rave takes place in different abandoned buildings around the city. One telephone number to send a SMS for making your reservation. No one gets in without a reservation. Choice between two “menus”. Good wine. Excellent music. A private party as it were, whose existence is created by word of mouth. Sounded fun. So I asked the friends I was visiting whether they wanted to give it a try.

 

The entrance to the rave is here. This photo was taken hours before we went. 

 

This is the abandoned building where the rave was taking place. The dining hall was in the centre of this abandoned building. It was a huge salle over three stories high with a huge dome ceiling and stucco boarders. Beautifully decrepit. Filled tables, white tablecloths, only candlelight as lighting, and a hoard of very young waiters and waitresses serving the meal. The dinning guests were all very chic, young, dynamic, beautiful, brilliantly diverse in fashion. It was titillatingly bizarre. 

Much fun was had by us old folk. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was wearing running shoes and a fleece jacket (sorry, country bumpkin in a big city fashion deficit syndrome), I might have even stayed for the dancing. Next time. Apparently, after the dinner is served and the wine is consumed, they remove all the tables and start dancing until dawn. Now, what could be more marvellous? If anyone wants the telephone number… just send me an email.

(I tagged this as part of my Growing Up and Growing Old project)

The Right Mix

Maria and I managed to travel through this great metropolis straight as an arrow to our various destinations. Thank heaven, because it is cold, cold, cold, cold, in Berlin today. East Wind. Bitter deep-in-your-bones wind.

It obviously hasn’t been this cold since some of the trees have already blossomed. Unbelievable.

We browsed around a small marketplace in the park across from the Charlottenburg Castle. Only the hardy Korean (see collage), Lebanese (falafel stand), Italian (Italian specialties), and Polish (vegetables) sellers were out in the market selling their wares.

We visited the Berggruen Museum. Three floors filled with wonderful artwork from Matisse, Picasso, and Klee.

Each startlingly brilliant in their versatility. Each sharing enough similarities to lend a certain harmony to the exhibition as a whole. Each intrinsically different in temperament and Geist, thus making the visit very stimulating.

I was particularly struck by Picasso’s sculptures and Klee’s colours.

I left the exhibit wishing that Paul Klee was still alive and he could be a friend of mine.

Picasso, on the other hand, left me with the impression he was someone I would have avoided. Can you imagine being stranded on a lonely island with him? No matter how large the island was, it wouldn’t be large enough.