25 in Berlin

December 22, 2016

As SW, my best friend was nearing the end of her student exchange in Europe, we knew we had to see each other one last time before she left. Since my 25th birthday was fast approaching, we decided to meet up in Berlin for the same, a city I really admire and one she was excited to explore as well.

We booked a last-minute hostel called SCH, for the lack of a better name. It was extremely cheap and extremely creepy. From the outside, it looked like a massage parlor you can find strolling in the back streets of Bangkok, only this was in Berlin. Hence, much more strange.

There was a guy who had permanently parked himself in the dorm and seemed to be perpetually alone and perpetually drunk. He also had a penchant for early morning Russian version of Metallica, which I believe is totally appropriate to play in a 12 bed dorm.

On our first day, we decided to go for an alternative walking tour through Kreuzberg and Friedrichshain, apparently two of the hippest neighbourhoods in Berlin.

We walked through some really interesting places and received some great trivia on the counter-culture scene finishing in the Urban Spree Art gallery space, which in my opinion was the best spot. Very vibrant, very free. Very Berlin.

At night, we went down to the pub called Belushi’s of St.Christopher’s Hostel chain which I really liked. My birthday eve was in full splendour. We had to decide on a club. Given we both froze our butt off during the day, I had no intention to be on the edge of turning 25, waiting for a bouncer to tick me off in eiskalt Wetter cause I didn’t look posh enough to enter Berghain or whatever. We stuck to a safer bet and went to Tresor, an old power plant converted to a techno club and recommended by a friend.

The first half an hour, we were quite disoriented. Neither of us had much experience dancing to techno music and coming straight from a pub earlier had significantly shifted our mood to bright live music. One hour later, we were grooving to the DJ like the rest of the place. What a place though, gigantic, dark and super interesting.

Whilst we took a break, two French guys approached us. Looking back, they were probably no older than 19 or 20. The one with SW didn’t waste much time telling her she should try a “french kiss”. It didn’t matter what she said to him about having no interest in kissing this random kiddo. He took offence, rather quick and Le bisous’ed away. Needless to say, no man was getting between us this night. (Literally and otherwise)

SW & I have known each other for over 8 years. We’ve seen every god damn thing in each others lives right from first year bachelor all the way to now. There’s no way we would have made it through, all the million and one crazy things we have been through without having each other. I was so so grateful to have her by my side for my 25th, just gossiping and giggling like every time we meet. If I ever met SW’s counterpart in a man, I’d never let him go. Like never.

Well, so I’m 25 now, I guess. No more an early 20’s answer when asked about my age will do. On my birthday, we woke up rather late thanks to our crazy long first day. We went straight to an Indian place for lunch, the name of which I forget but it was incredibly good for the money we spent there. Did I mention, Berlin has a really good international food scene? I love how as soon as we got there, SW said to me: “Hey what do you think we take like two main courses, two appetisers, two desserts, two drinks etc.”

I looked at the 100 pound girl sitting opposite me, and said “Umm, I think we need to stop asking for what we can definitely not handle”. We somehow managed to gulp down most of the German sized portions(btw, these portions of food are for giants and definitely not South Asian women, but I reckon this needs a detailed post). A flying visit to Brandenburg Tor (which had an anti-Trump campaign going on for some reason along with some strange Chinese imprisonment techniques exhibition, WTF?)and the Holocaust Memorial were made of-course.

On this night, since it was our last night we wanted a relaxed pub. We headed to Freidrichshain once more to an old very cosy pub (Kapt’n Müller) with a foosball table and cheap rum & coke. SW was excited about the Foosball, me I was good with my rum & coke.

SW sat opposite me and hence couldn’t face the bar when the most good-looking group of guys I (and SW would gladly attest) have EVER seen in my life walked in and stood nearby. Normally, I hate staring and I’m not a huge promoter of eye contact which I believe is necessary in the german youth scene(or so I have been told), but this group?

Straight from the Abercrombie & Fitch Heaven Version 2.0 catalogue, but most likely not models. Far too low-key to be established models.

All 185cms and above, perfect hair, clean-shaven, extremely well dressed with beautiful eyes and each individual at least warranting an 8.5/10. As SW put it, no matter who she turned to, they all looked insanely good. Not one eye sore in a group of about 10. Not even one.

Later, I realised after hearing them talk that they were either Danish or Swedish. More likely the latter. I definitely thought at one point this night(thanks to the rum and coke) to move to Scandi, if only for the beautiful men. Too bad, its way too cold, way too dark, way too expensive and way too Elf-Landish. SW was disappointed that these perfectly beautiful creatures wouldn’t talk to any of the girls around, used as she is to men swarming around her “oh so exotic” looks here in Europe. If only, wishes were horses!

We called in an early night having a long day of traveling ahead, and went home totally happy with a blast of a weekend and a 25th I’ll never forget.

I understand, I’ve deviated from my usual post format to a decidedly casual story format. Your feedback and comments are much appreciated! Till then, Viel spaß!

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1 comment

Nehal Singhal December 22, 2016 - 4:10 pm

If only wishes were horses! Great one, keep writing!


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