7/8/12
Journaling the previous 2-3 days have proved difficult in Berlin. I shall now try and recap the occurrences of the past 48 hours.
7/6/12
Alright so the sun got me up pretty early this morning. Wait, no it didn't. On this day I was able to sleep until 11 albeit when I woke my sheets were completely soaked. In sweat, I swear.
Sightseeing was the main activity for today. First I cruised on over to Museum Island which houses exhibits the Germans basically looted from all over the world. Using Tyler Rush's guide to Berlin as a reference I went to the Pergamon Museum first. I bought a three day pass figuring I would take full advantage of it during my three night stay. More on that later.
The Pergamon museum is named after its main exhibit, The Pergamon Altar. My history might be slightly off but the Germans excavated this altar from an ancient Greek city in what is today modern Turkey. Archaeologists speculate it was used for sacrificial offerings to the Gods, of the human kind. The museum reconstructed parts of it because it is mostly in fragments today. This museum temple is housed inside of a museum. It's freaking ridiculous. Seriously, google it.
The rest of the museum housed a ton of other German loot. I don't know how they did it because they have priceless artifacts from all over the world. I'm thinking it played out like this. Some ministry archaeologist probably went to these middle east countries and did some swindling to dig up and export the artifacts. Money and/or weapons had to be involved.
The rest of the museum was awesome as well. I saw the Ishtar Gate which I learned about in my one semester of art history. That was pretty gnar up close, very blue too.
All of the mid east artifacts were thoroughly covered in the Pergamon, but I had a 4 pm Fat Tire Bike Tour to catch.
If you're ever in a squeeze to cram as much history of a city in 5 hours, Fat Tire is the company to do it. On the tour, our guide Nile took us and taugh us about so much of Berlin's history. I saw the TV tower, Reichstag, a spot where a book burning took place, check point Charlie, the Berlin Wall, Victory Circle, Brandenburg Gate, and stopped off at a Beer Garden for dinner. It was a very good way to see the city, even if the guide was a complete fruit and emphasized the city's gay culture multiple times.
My Fat Tire journey ended later than expected and forced me to miss the pub crawl for that night. Whatever, the lobby of One80 is always poppin' at night. None of the Aussie blokes wanted to go out after their epic night before. So I'm flying solo tonight.
Walking back into the lobby, I spy of group of guys ordering Jager bombs. Not taking them for the Jersey shore type, I strike up a conversation with them. Turns out they are British troopers on leave from their base in southern Germany. One even happend to live in Texas for a while. I'll talk more about him later.
We all hit it off just fine and next thing I know I'm slamming bombs with them. A real class act these guys. Looks like I found my crew for tonight.
Soon enough the conversation gets interesting. Very freaking interesting. The bloke who said he had lived in Texas, lets call him Paco, starts talking about a very interesting subject. He asks me if I ever drove on I-35. Of course, it runs through the heart of Austin. Paco did too, when he was trafficking illegals. I didn't believe him at first, but then he starts providing very particular details about the whole ordeal.
Paco's mother is Honduran yet his father is from the UK. He looks South American, but holds a British passportl. A cousin on his mom's side of the family realized this and offered him a deal he couldn't refuse.
He was given a suburban, the 90s model, with a spacious trunk and told to go to a particular spot in Nuevo Laredo. Once there he had his car packed full of Mexicans and would drive them to Austin with nothing more than a blanket to hide them. His alibi was solid he told me. Whenever he was stopped, he explained to the border patrol he was a student and normally had a computer or backpack to add credibility to his story. Not once was he second guessed. And for each illegal he successfully delivered, Paco was paid two thousand dollars per person.So he did this a couple times, made about 64k, and then joined the British army. Paco will most likely never return to the U.S. because he obviously can face some kind of prosecution.
So this is the guy I hung out with the entire night. Around one we made moves and went to a club. The first place said we had too many guys. Our response: fuck you. Talking shit is easy when you're surrounded by jacked soldiers.
Next we went to a club one of the Irish guys recommended. Our cabbie dropped the lot of us in front of a warehouse with a queue outside. No, no, no we wanted to go to a club. Little did we know, but we were about to be intorduced to the underground Berlin scene.
We wait in line and pay cover to get in. Once inside the supposed warehouse is a full on club blasting underground house music. It was dark, it was loud, and it was jam packed with dudes. This is when we decide to go to one of the clubs on the Rush guide.
Club der Visionar is another nondescript establishment that has a massive queue to get in. We went in line but got shot down again. No chicas, no club. Outside we buy a pizza and start munching. Eventually some sketch German talks to us, and ends up vouching for us to the bouncer. This gets us in and the next thing I know I'm dancing my pants off. It was all loads of fun. The club is situated on the bank of some river. At one point it started raining. Watching the rain hit the water was cool, but seeing the sunrise as this happened was even cooler.
Six am cam a lot sooner than expected. It was still raining and we couldn't hail a cab to save our lives. This is when we decided to job back to east Berlin from west Berlin. All we had to do was get to the TV tower and it was straight. The troops looked at it as morning PT. What a bunch of loons. Regardless, I kept pace with them and even outpaced a few. At one point Ashly told me I looked like the late Ryan Dunn from Jackass. Not cool bro.
At 7 am I finally made it back to the hostel and right on time for the continental breakfast. Hoarse, drunk, and breathless, I was a sight to behold. The receptionist could barely hold back her laughter.
7/7/12
I'm changing dates now because at this point it's morning time. I ate more than my fill of breakfast and was ready to hibernate in my sauna of a room.
8 am would be a safe assumption as to when I physically made it to my room. The rest of the roommates were sound asleep, rightfully so. Bruno happened to open his eyes as I was coming in the room. Noticing I was still in the clothes from the night before, he burst out laughing and went back to sleep. Soon enough I followed suit.
My plan was to awake at a reasonable hour and see one or two museums in order to get my money's worth with the museum pass. However, it was raining and I sleep sooo well when it rains. Even if my room is a sauna.
The aussie blokes walked into the room and I inquired as to the time. They're response, "You've been asleep this whole time?" It was 4:30 pm.
Refreshed and out of hibernation, it was time to grub. Feeling homesick, I set out for another Rush recommendation. White Trash Fast Food serves American food and it's damn good. Outside of the state of Texas this joint serves the best tasting brisket I've ever had.
Afterwards it was time to party again. Pat, Bruno, and Max were going on another pub crawl and I decided to join them. It was a good time but not exactly what I expected. Every bar we went to was tiny, and no more than 3/4 of our group could fit inside. Pretty lame, but it was the only thing I had going that night. These aussies were a great lot though. Max and Pat snuck off somewhere so Bruno and I cruised back to the hostel. Once there we ran into Paco and some of the other British troops from the prior night. We all agreed to go back and rage at W.T.F.F. since they had some kind of DJ playing. Much to our dismay we got the typical Berlin answer. Too many guys. Dammit, whatever I'm done clubbing here, the scene is too weird for me.
7/9/12
Yesterday I intended to make my way to Brussels. Instead I booked another night at one80. The hostel draws its name from the average room temperature. So I had to check out at 10 am and could not check back in until after 3. There wasn't any better way to spend my afternoon tired and hungover than visiting Museum island.
Throughout the day I saw The Atles, Neues, and Bode Museums. The best part of all these places definitely was the benches I saw on in the exhibits.
Three finally rolled around but the check in line was out the door. Craving a sweet, I headed over to the mall. Everything save the food court was closed and a McDonald's looked mighty tasty. Chocolate Magnum Brownie McFlurry satiated my homesick blues. I cannot wait to get back to the U.S. and talk to Americans again. Traveling alone is fun, but now it is time to get back. Also I think I messed my shoulder up again and want to see a doctor.
Last night was very low key. Dinner was at Hofbrauhaus where I drank a liter and ate pork knuckle. It was tasty, but very fatty. Afterwards I chilled at the hostel, journaled, and drank some beers.
Today is a long travel day. My train ride is a shade under 7 hours, but I am closer to the U.K., and ultimately home. I have three nights in Brussels and no definitive plan afterwards. Amsterdam is too tempting and I do not want to risk sliding down that slippery slope. Rather, I may just go back to London and chill before I fly back.
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