Summer in Berlin is finally here, and market season is well and truly upon us.
Never have I met a city with so many local food, farmers’ and flea markets. Each Berlin borough, along with an ever-prevalent green space, seems to hold its own colourful bazaar, whether community-run or organised by the city.
Some are cool, some are real, and each one has a distinct style and appeal. And, of course, the food is absolutely phenomenal.
We love them all, but here are some of our favourites.
Winter is finally over and the city is alive and green. The residents have emerged from their dark caves and now flood the city streets, beers and cigarettes in hand. Our days are spent drinking coffee in the sunshine, lunching in parks with friends, drinking beers by the river and taking lengthy walks in the widespread green space that covers Berlin. Continue reading
It makes me feel lazy. I’m sitting in a room with 15 other Internationals and I’m the only one limited to one language. They’re communicating with me in English, their third or fourth language, and I don’t even have the option to sift through several vocabularies looking for the right word to use; I’m limited to one and I feel like the laziest person in the world. Continue reading
The burger scene in Berlin is ridiculous. I’ve never met a city so infatuated with the things, with competition running stronger and tastier as each month passes. Every time I get around to trying a new burger, five more seem to appear. And thus, I have developed this noble and endless quest to find Berlin’s perfect patty.
The coffee in Berlin is fantastic. The third wave coffee scene has completely taken over, and roasters and baristas are incredibly passionate about their specific styles, techniques, equipment and, most importantly, the beans.
We settled into our first apartment in Neukölln – the latest Berlin borough to be hailed as the centre of all things ‘hip’ – and began to explore our new surroundings.
Sydney to New York to Berlin.
Joe and I were in the depths of an immigration nightmare. He had outstayed – and we had both outgrown – Australia, and I wasn’t allowed back on American soil without some form of visa/approval/impossible bullshit piece of paper that proved I’ve never kissed the lips of satan or pinched a police officer on the ass.