kreuzberg

January 1, 2020

I Still Keep a Suitcase in Berlin.

Baretto: A sweet Italian cafe’ in Berlin

Pretty sure these blue doors are the entryway to my heart

Dusty book piles everywhere and the scent of old paper

November 4, 2019

Turkish Market

I was thrilled to visit the legendary Turkish Market in the heart of Berlin (Kreuzberg, lining both sides of Maybachufer Strasse, alongside the Landwehrkanal) while in Germany.

There were gobs of vendors selling just about every type of fare you could picture: spices, street food with warm sauces and cheeses, fresh veggies and fragrant breads, to name a few.

Of course, I had to stop for an authentic Turkish coffee to impress my ancestors. That stuff is no joke!

This guy knows what’s up. Glad to have made a friend.

Community markets seem to provoke a sense of belonging for me, which is why I find the experience so special. Everyone is offering something distinct in order to nourish in one way or another.

October 21, 2019

On my second day in Berlin, I walked across the bridge connecting Kreuzberg and Friedrichshain to catch the tram into Prenzlauer Berg. My lovely Airbnb host informed me about a fleamarket in Mauerpark that takes place each Sunday, so I had to take advantage of it. There were heaps of vintage clothing, crafts, handmade goods, art, antiques, decor, and of course, a visually intriguing cast of characters.

Made friends with the folks of Lanz-Records-Berlin! We had a dance party to Stereo Total.

Works by La Tercera Mano. Yes, I brought one of those plaster baby doll heads home.

October 17, 2019

Berlin: Arrival

I arrived in Berlin by train after a busy week of exploring Prague. I’ve long heard about the city’s reputation as a cultural hub, an alternative mecca of artsy dreams. “Is this Kreuzberg?” I exclaimed at my taxi driver as we passed through a graffitied, gritty area. Indeed, it was. Phew!

Kreuzberg is the European version of Brooklyn. Actually, the neighborhood reminded me of the East Village in its hay-day: punks with piercings, vegetarian restaurants, street art, little booths with junky merchandise, and bohemians rebelling against their parents at each turn. Truth be told, it made my heart swell up like a punched lip: I ached for the subculture anarchy of yesteryear. New York City has become so commercialized, its primitive spirit seems drowned out by an overarching instagram filter. Berlin is alive with genuine weirdos that make me feel at home.