After a 20-hour train trip from our 24-hour reunion disaster in Florence, Natalie and I finally arrived in the crazy cultural and historical juggernaut that is Berlin, Germany.
From the train station we followed our intricate directions to the hostel which included a subway ride and walking under a secret subway passage.
1 out of 3 people that we passed en route to the hostel had some sort of face piercing, grimace, and looked like they had dressed themselves in a secondhand Hot Topic. Berlin was like a dirty concrete city with graffiti literally everywhere. The population was like a bunch of angry, judgmental hippies on upper drugs. I felt like we were on the movie set of Girl with the Dragon tattoo.
The secret passage through the subway turned out not as ominous as suspected and The PLUS hostel Berlin was like a bohemian paradise for young backpackers. It was huge, with all the accommodations of a hotel including a pool, a sauna, restaurant, bar, free yoga on Thursday mornings... you name it. It also had a random garden full of bunnies which instantly made us feel better and a beer vending machine full of Heineken and Becks which made us feel cool.
Our room had air conditioning too, a rarity in many of our accommodations. (You really start to appreciate the states love of central heating and air when you travel through Europe).
After a quick decompression, Natalie and I went down to the pool for a swim and sauna session. After traveling for such an extended period of time at such a quick pace, it was such a pleasure to just relax, write, and read.
That night, we crashed hard. We decided not to go out as we were saving our energy to go to Berghain, the capital of techno and the world's hardest to get into nightclub.
We had been instructed, as Americans, that our best bet to get into the world-renowned nightclub. was to arrive at Sunday morning at noon, wear black, not smile and not speak at all except to say "two" in German to the bouncer at the door. (Berghain was open Friday-Monday and is rumored so difficult to get into and so desirable to get into that many people bring backpacks with them on Friday with changes of clothes and food so they could stay the entire weekend).
We awoke at 10 and put on our best Berghain costumes. I went for the distressed emo look (black free people black tank, hair in a slick hair-sprayed ponytail braid, jeans, and black tennis shoes), while Natalie opted for the Avril Lavigne meets Girl with the Dragon tattoo look (black chuck Taylor's, black skinny jeans, black crop top, and tousled bun).
We stopped briefly on our walk for some breakfast. We could tell our outfits were perfect because people kept avoiding eye contact and walking far away from us. I even saw one man grab his son and pull him closer to himself and farther from us. Nailed it.
While enjoying our bagel at some hippy dippy Berlin coffee joint that could've easily been in Portland, we sat at the window and watched all the pierced, vagabond hooligans walk by. At one point, and this is going to be hard to describe accurately, we saw three men (shirtless, shoeless, dirty, dreadlocks, tattooed, in their late 30's, and pierced) proudly hauling a 6x6x6 box on a single wheel with a hole cut in the middle where they had placed....a toddler. It reminded me of a modern-day Jungle Book based in Berlin - baby raised by wolf men.
Instantly horrified, Natalie and I finished our breakfast and continued on.
Because of some botched google directions and the confusing non-Latin-based German language, our 12 minute walk to the club took an hour and a half in the beating sun before we finally reached the infamous Berghain.
The club looked just as terrifying in person as on the photos online - like a giant prison meet bomb shelter meets concrete torture chamber. In the bushes, we saw a boy changing (understandably) from his jeans into some spiked leather bike shorts and a black netted tank top. But the music sounded amazing and we could hear the cheers from inside.
We put on our bravest "we don't care" faces and approached the door. The que (line) which is often known for being hours long, was nearly empty. (Score!). I had perfected my pronunciation of how to say "dvie" all day so I knew we'd be set.
A few people ahead of us, the bouncer asked a group of Australian women how old they were. When they replied 23, he turned them away. I thought to myself, ok cool the one place it's cool to be old is here - perfect. Then the bouncer let a few people in that had stamps on their arms. Finally it was our turn. I was so ready, that is until the bouncer took one look at us without us saying a word and (clearly seeing American written all over our faces) said "sorry ladies, you will not get in today".
Dejected and devastated, we walked home. Because it was Sunday, and apparently Germany follows the same rules as Switzerland, everything was closed and there was not much else to do. A few hours later, after some lunch, pumping each other up, and rehearsing some more German phrases - we decided to give Berghain one more try. I took my hair down so the bouncer wouldn't recognize me and we set out.
As we started approaching the door, we noticed it was a new bouncer and new our chances had improved. We got about 5 feet to the line before the new bouncer turned to us, saying, "sorry ladies. You will not get in tonight" thus forever smashing our hopes of attending Berghain.
I understand that for many at home it will be quite laughable that Natalie Lenhart and Laine Himmelmann actually thought they could get into a club where the desired patron looks like a mix of dominatrixes, punk rockers from the 1980s, and everyone in Fangtasia on True Blood - but as two ladies who have never been turned away at a nightclub and who've cut ques and been escorted in at some of Las Vegas's biggest clubs, it was a legitimately ego blow. Not to mention, we've heard the musical experience at Berghain is surreal.
That night, we ate a lot.
The next morning, as planned, we woke up and switched hostels from PLUS to Wombats.
When Natalie and I booked our hostel in Berlin for our 4 night stay, we had a hard time choosing between Plus Berlin and Wombats (Plus had a pool, but Wombats looked nicer). We opted to spend 2 nights in Plus and then 2 nights in Wombats. We are so glad we did this because what we didn't realize is that PLUS is in East Berlin and Wombats is in West Berlin.
West Berlin was definitely more our speed. It was beautiful, no trash on the streets, great cafés, and clearly where all the people with jobs lived and hung out.
The difference between the two areas made more sense when Natalie and I visited the Berlin Wall later that day and realized that East Berlin (the loud, dirty, scowly, punk...) was the former communist side when the wall was up. Of course that's the side where all the fun clubs are, but not the side I want to enjoy my cappuccino and marzipan pastry on.
Speaking of the wall, what an amazing site to see. It was fascinating to read the event timeline which described the events from WW1 to WW2 to the resurrection of the wall all the way to the fall of the wall. Like all human atrocities, the wall didn't just suddenly happen. It was caused by a series of events, a domino effect, which led to it - like most things, slowly and then suddenly.
We had planned to go to checkpoint Charlie next, but the Berlin weather had other plans for us as hot rain started pelting on us as we made a sprint to the u-banh station.
Later that night we met up with Gabby Grow, who Natalie and I went to high school with but I've actually known since kindergarten. Gabby's been living in Amsterdam for the last several years, but was in Berlin for work so we all met up. After sharing some sangria, Natalie and I became enthralled with her romantic story about her move to Holland for her Dutch love and her cool new gig. The three of us went to Matrix and danced the night away until 3am.
One thing I've noticed about the ladies of Europe, they know what's up. What in Sac we might deem as the "state worker look", they rock. At every nightclub (where the floors are disgusting and everyone walks to) the ladies are rocking their dresses with sneakers or boots. It's practical, allows you to dance all night and walk home, and actually looks pretty legit. Natalie and I have decided to bring this look back with us because dancing in my sneakers has definitely become my favorite thing ever.
The next day Natalie and I finally got to Check Point Charlie, but not before first attending the David Bowie exhibit which, might I add, was amazing. I think all museum exhibits should be set to a rad soundtrack- it made looking at everything so much more fun.
We were however tragically disappointed that the gift shop was out of the "God Bless David Bowie" tote bags which we had intended to buy for ourselves and Tara who would have equally loved it.
After checkpoint charlie it started pouring on us again so we headed back to the hostel before our most amazing dinner ever where Natalie had ox cheek and I had some crazy appetizer that came on top of a shot of vodka. We both lamented that we hadn't brought our phones to take a picture because it was fantastic (that is until some creepy old Italian guy sat next to us and started trying to strike up a conversation on our thoughts on Obama - we left shortly after)
Berlin was a great city - full of diversity, history, and culture. That said, the weather sucked.
We were excited to head to Amsterdam! Until next time!
From the train station we followed our intricate directions to the hostel which included a subway ride and walking under a secret subway passage.
1 out of 3 people that we passed en route to the hostel had some sort of face piercing, grimace, and looked like they had dressed themselves in a secondhand Hot Topic. Berlin was like a dirty concrete city with graffiti literally everywhere. The population was like a bunch of angry, judgmental hippies on upper drugs. I felt like we were on the movie set of Girl with the Dragon tattoo.
The secret passage through the subway turned out not as ominous as suspected and The PLUS hostel Berlin was like a bohemian paradise for young backpackers. It was huge, with all the accommodations of a hotel including a pool, a sauna, restaurant, bar, free yoga on Thursday mornings... you name it. It also had a random garden full of bunnies which instantly made us feel better and a beer vending machine full of Heineken and Becks which made us feel cool.
Our room had air conditioning too, a rarity in many of our accommodations. (You really start to appreciate the states love of central heating and air when you travel through Europe).
After a quick decompression, Natalie and I went down to the pool for a swim and sauna session. After traveling for such an extended period of time at such a quick pace, it was such a pleasure to just relax, write, and read.
That night, we crashed hard. We decided not to go out as we were saving our energy to go to Berghain, the capital of techno and the world's hardest to get into nightclub.
We had been instructed, as Americans, that our best bet to get into the world-renowned nightclub. was to arrive at Sunday morning at noon, wear black, not smile and not speak at all except to say "two" in German to the bouncer at the door. (Berghain was open Friday-Monday and is rumored so difficult to get into and so desirable to get into that many people bring backpacks with them on Friday with changes of clothes and food so they could stay the entire weekend).
We awoke at 10 and put on our best Berghain costumes. I went for the distressed emo look (black free people black tank, hair in a slick hair-sprayed ponytail braid, jeans, and black tennis shoes), while Natalie opted for the Avril Lavigne meets Girl with the Dragon tattoo look (black chuck Taylor's, black skinny jeans, black crop top, and tousled bun).
We stopped briefly on our walk for some breakfast. We could tell our outfits were perfect because people kept avoiding eye contact and walking far away from us. I even saw one man grab his son and pull him closer to himself and farther from us. Nailed it.
While enjoying our bagel at some hippy dippy Berlin coffee joint that could've easily been in Portland, we sat at the window and watched all the pierced, vagabond hooligans walk by. At one point, and this is going to be hard to describe accurately, we saw three men (shirtless, shoeless, dirty, dreadlocks, tattooed, in their late 30's, and pierced) proudly hauling a 6x6x6 box on a single wheel with a hole cut in the middle where they had placed....a toddler. It reminded me of a modern-day Jungle Book based in Berlin - baby raised by wolf men.
Instantly horrified, Natalie and I finished our breakfast and continued on.
Because of some botched google directions and the confusing non-Latin-based German language, our 12 minute walk to the club took an hour and a half in the beating sun before we finally reached the infamous Berghain.
The club looked just as terrifying in person as on the photos online - like a giant prison meet bomb shelter meets concrete torture chamber. In the bushes, we saw a boy changing (understandably) from his jeans into some spiked leather bike shorts and a black netted tank top. But the music sounded amazing and we could hear the cheers from inside.
We put on our bravest "we don't care" faces and approached the door. The que (line) which is often known for being hours long, was nearly empty. (Score!). I had perfected my pronunciation of how to say "dvie" all day so I knew we'd be set.
A few people ahead of us, the bouncer asked a group of Australian women how old they were. When they replied 23, he turned them away. I thought to myself, ok cool the one place it's cool to be old is here - perfect. Then the bouncer let a few people in that had stamps on their arms. Finally it was our turn. I was so ready, that is until the bouncer took one look at us without us saying a word and (clearly seeing American written all over our faces) said "sorry ladies, you will not get in today".
Dejected and devastated, we walked home. Because it was Sunday, and apparently Germany follows the same rules as Switzerland, everything was closed and there was not much else to do. A few hours later, after some lunch, pumping each other up, and rehearsing some more German phrases - we decided to give Berghain one more try. I took my hair down so the bouncer wouldn't recognize me and we set out.
As we started approaching the door, we noticed it was a new bouncer and new our chances had improved. We got about 5 feet to the line before the new bouncer turned to us, saying, "sorry ladies. You will not get in tonight" thus forever smashing our hopes of attending Berghain.
I understand that for many at home it will be quite laughable that Natalie Lenhart and Laine Himmelmann actually thought they could get into a club where the desired patron looks like a mix of dominatrixes, punk rockers from the 1980s, and everyone in Fangtasia on True Blood - but as two ladies who have never been turned away at a nightclub and who've cut ques and been escorted in at some of Las Vegas's biggest clubs, it was a legitimately ego blow. Not to mention, we've heard the musical experience at Berghain is surreal.
That night, we ate a lot.
The next morning, as planned, we woke up and switched hostels from PLUS to Wombats.
When Natalie and I booked our hostel in Berlin for our 4 night stay, we had a hard time choosing between Plus Berlin and Wombats (Plus had a pool, but Wombats looked nicer). We opted to spend 2 nights in Plus and then 2 nights in Wombats. We are so glad we did this because what we didn't realize is that PLUS is in East Berlin and Wombats is in West Berlin.
West Berlin was definitely more our speed. It was beautiful, no trash on the streets, great cafés, and clearly where all the people with jobs lived and hung out.
The difference between the two areas made more sense when Natalie and I visited the Berlin Wall later that day and realized that East Berlin (the loud, dirty, scowly, punk...) was the former communist side when the wall was up. Of course that's the side where all the fun clubs are, but not the side I want to enjoy my cappuccino and marzipan pastry on.
Speaking of the wall, what an amazing site to see. It was fascinating to read the event timeline which described the events from WW1 to WW2 to the resurrection of the wall all the way to the fall of the wall. Like all human atrocities, the wall didn't just suddenly happen. It was caused by a series of events, a domino effect, which led to it - like most things, slowly and then suddenly.
(The Wall)
We had planned to go to checkpoint Charlie next, but the Berlin weather had other plans for us as hot rain started pelting on us as we made a sprint to the u-banh station.
Later that night we met up with Gabby Grow, who Natalie and I went to high school with but I've actually known since kindergarten. Gabby's been living in Amsterdam for the last several years, but was in Berlin for work so we all met up. After sharing some sangria, Natalie and I became enthralled with her romantic story about her move to Holland for her Dutch love and her cool new gig. The three of us went to Matrix and danced the night away until 3am.
(Us and Gabby - a few hours before she had to go to work)
One thing I've noticed about the ladies of Europe, they know what's up. What in Sac we might deem as the "state worker look", they rock. At every nightclub (where the floors are disgusting and everyone walks to) the ladies are rocking their dresses with sneakers or boots. It's practical, allows you to dance all night and walk home, and actually looks pretty legit. Natalie and I have decided to bring this look back with us because dancing in my sneakers has definitely become my favorite thing ever.
The next day Natalie and I finally got to Check Point Charlie, but not before first attending the David Bowie exhibit which, might I add, was amazing. I think all museum exhibits should be set to a rad soundtrack- it made looking at everything so much more fun.
(Checkpoint Charlie)
We were however tragically disappointed that the gift shop was out of the "God Bless David Bowie" tote bags which we had intended to buy for ourselves and Tara who would have equally loved it.
After checkpoint charlie it started pouring on us again so we headed back to the hostel before our most amazing dinner ever where Natalie had ox cheek and I had some crazy appetizer that came on top of a shot of vodka. We both lamented that we hadn't brought our phones to take a picture because it was fantastic (that is until some creepy old Italian guy sat next to us and started trying to strike up a conversation on our thoughts on Obama - we left shortly after)
Berlin was a great city - full of diversity, history, and culture. That said, the weather sucked.
We were excited to head to Amsterdam! Until next time!
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