Part four in a four part series on our trip to Berlin.
A week ago we were cuddled up in Hotel Kiva in Berlin, reading books with one eye, watching the BBC News (a creature never seen in Crimmy) with the other while resting our aching sight-seer feet. We were high on city air and ethnic food. Thanks to a nuanced combination of World War II, the Berlin Wall, globalization and German precision, Berlin is a place where you can navigate easily from old, gargoyle filled Euro-fortress straight into a modern, neon-sign lit Euro-metropolis. There’s high fashion and low maintenance, often on the same block.
But the gems of Berlin, or any new destination for that matter, often seem all the more precious when you have someone to share with. “Oooooing” and “aahhhhhing” at the sights seems a bit like mental illness when you are alone, but feels like a confirmation when you have a pal relate with. Travelling alone has perks and pleasures all to it’s own, but having the perfect companion is a more preferable long-term solution. A friend works as a back-up to your own memory, giving you a slightly different (if not conflicting) version of the travel diary. A comrade helps you decide to go right or left at a decidedly confusing fork in the road. A partner has your back in the shady alley you accidentally wandered down looking for the perfect piece of cake (and I still have not located said piece of cake). And lucky for me my best friend and most patient co-conspirator accompanies (and often chauffeurs) me on most of my travel missions. Berlin, Barcelona, Barstow, Big Bay. All the better with David.
Pictured below is and adorable couple I photographed in the dome of the Reichstag without notice or permission. Not only do I have an obsession with the elderly, but this couple seemed to come with the caption: “Dave and Lane sightseeing in 2061: Lane got rid of her purse Dave is finally carrying the shit in a man-bag.” Don’t worry, my future fur coat is faux and Dave’s hair is real.