Berlin: Final Stretch for a Certain Sort

Because you are reading this, it may not be too far of a stretch to think that you are a certain sort. As I sit here on the Monday of my last week here in Berlin, I am taking stock but also eager to get out the door to Kathe Kollwitz, Potsdamer Platz and the Nordbahnhof ruins. Because you may be a certain sort, you can imagine how full my heart is becoming. Ute’s generousity and gaze, Susanna’s hands as she talks, Tobi’s grin, Bettina’s smile and that freaking great running trail along the Landwerhkekanal. In the work, my gosh, who knew? Who knew that the Tors and bruckes would leap out in this last period bucketing generations of the hopes and dreams, the failures and rejections that come with crossing borders and passing through gates. I did not know. Who knew that The Wall would take on such significance—but, in retrospect, how could it not? Who knew it would white asparagus season and that Tobi would make such an amazing meal. Who knew all of the fading going on here: Tachelles, pay-what-you-want gourmet restaurants, Prinzlauerberg?

We’re all getting together Thursday night to say so long at my favourite place here in the ‘hood: Maedchen ohne Abitur. I’ll get one more good run in the Tiergarten and another along the canal—maybe taking that slide again ’cause the steps are so not made for stepping. Finally, look for me at Blue Man Group on Wednesday and packing up at other times. I am organizing my thoughts in prep for two articles I know that will come out this summer about the trip. Probably one more pit stop to the WB Archives. Who knew Berlin held so much? Who knew? Because you did, because you may be a certain sort.

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~ by Thom on May 23, 2011.

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