Literature Is Not Dead

Ah, Berlin. Our Berlin experience began with us disembarking from the train to Doug’s insistence that he knew where he was going. Did he have a map? No. A street number? No. Did he know which side of the metro station to exit? No. The hostel is big and tomato red, he said. This is how a real traveler travels. Knowing nothing.

One of our first stops on our free tour was the famous Checkpoint Charlie (midground, left of center) and the soon-to-be-famous Snackpoint Charlie (midground, far right).

Doug shows off his mad photog skills by juxtaposing one of old Berlin’s most beautiful churches with one of East Berlin’s most famous communist monuments. If I was the travel writer of the two of us, I’d know their names, but I’m not.

Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp. Of all the depressing things in that camp, one of the few I could comprehend was this, a semi-circular track made of different surfaces (you can see where the shale turns to dirt about where the tour group is) which the Nazis made prisoners walk on all day to test shoe materials. I can’t really imagine a concentration camp, but I can imagine walking all day over a shitty track. The Nazis were assholes.

Doug, showing off our trusty tour book and a serving of currywurst. Berlin’s favorite snack food turned out to be mildly disappointing (though I ate my own serving and most of Doug’s) because it was not very curry flavored. Doug does look awesome in this pic, though.

Take this tip from an experienced traveling duo. Do not order Mexican food in Berlin.

Not pictured: our brilliant tour guide Inez the 13th, the Sazerac Doug drank (What a sport! Oldest cocktail in the world. That kid knows a classic.), or me, taking a shot of liquor made from the coca plant (but wait! That video is posted on YouTube now. Check it out!)