Follow the Berlin map as we go along!
Berlin is for (Solitary) Cyclists
So thrilling to go from a perfect cycling town like Copenhagen to another excellent cycling town like Berlin. Lauren, the local who gave us the keys to our rental, pointed us towards Prenzlberger Orange Bikes at Kollwitzstrasse 35 for cheap rentals. Their bikes are all upright orange comfort rides with rear baskets; at 6 Euros a day, they're an excellent deal, which makes the bikes very popular and kind of hard to come by. Heej managed to snag one of the orange bikes later in the day, but they were still closed when I woke up. I decided to try my luck at the Fahrradstation at Kollwitzstrasse 77 instead.
It was only 10:30am, but I was already the fourth person in line for a rental. I was a little worried about not being able to get a bike.
ME: Hi, I'd like to rent a bike for four days.
BIKE SHOP KID: [in halting English] Four days...Let me see what we have for you.
He came trudging back up the steps from the basement. And that's when I fell in love.
BIKE SHOP KID: I think this should work for you?
ME: YES! Ahem...yes, that should work.
Could it be any cuter? It's sprightly and kind of butch, which is how I like to think of myself, and it was a way smoother ride than my Copenhagen utilitarian bike. In my mind, I looked super tough on it. Made me feel like a BMX badass even though I was probably still riding like a grandma. I love it. I want it.
Compared to the little postage stamp that is Copenhagen, Berlin is huge, sprawling. It's a muddled mix of old and new, communist and capitalist, grass and stone, water and glass, and you can pretty much see it all if you've got a bike. Even the really big and busy streets feel safe because of all the really well-trafficked bike lanes. I am a total bicycle newbie, but I really got around -- I'd ride from Prenzlauer Berg down through Mitte, through the lush Tiergarten out to the west side, lock up and putz around the museums, ride to a cafe and meet friends for lunch, strap all my goodies onto the wheel-mounted rack and head home, wind in my hair. The streets are well-paved, the air is clean, it's not too hilly...such sweet freedom! Zip zip zip!
Okay, I almost got hit by a tram near Unter den Linden (those German-engineered trams are too quiet for their own good). And I really only had one tiny spill, which happened at a stoplight by Wittenbergplatz while I was trying to climb up onto the curb without enough velocity. No scrapes, just a little embarrassment.
I was so sad when I had to return my baby at the end of the trip. Saturday was our last night together. The shop was going to close at 6pm, so I dropped it off at 5:45pm.
ME: Thanks... [Bike shop kid inspects the bike. I loiter for a minute and watch, reluctant to go.] I loved this bike. LOVED it. I'm sorry to leave it.
BIKE SHOP KID: Yes, it's a good bike. We call this one our "little green frog".
My favorite cycling snapshot: Handsome guy with a pompadour, popped collar and dress shorts, riding upright on his bicycle with his Jack Russell terrier tucked under one arm like a loaf of bread.
Berlin is for Treehuggers
Berlin is so green. Like crazy lush Bavarian forest green. I had no idea. It seems like there's a little park on every corner. In the east, every park has a playground, and most parks have outdoor ping pong tables. Sometimes I'd see young people strolling through town with a liter bottle of beer in one hand and a ping pong paddle in the other -- now that's living!
Cycling through Tiergarten felt so Little Red Riding Hood -- the greenery is tall, dense and hushed, the soft sunlight patchy. It doesn't feel like you're in the middle of a major metropolis at all. I guess that's what it's like in Central Park, too, but Central Park is more open, sunnier.
I've got a thing for farmer's markets, and one of my favorite haunts was the market at Winterfeldplatz in Schöneberg. Oh, the baskets of berries -- bay berries, tiny wild blueberries, strawberries, gooseberries, blackberries, red currants!
Bucket after bucket of pfifferlinge, aka chanterelles!
The clusters of perfect cherry tomatoes on stiff branches! 
Fresh flaxseed oil, ground on site! They even sold the ground flax seed -- they're the dookie twigs you can see in the basket in the picture below; the girl at the stand encouraged me to try one. I guess you can put it in your yogurt or muesli or something, but it was a little too hardcore for me. It tasted like waxy kibble, and I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to pick it out of my teeth with my tongue.
The card table-sized wheels of Berg käse! Herring sandwiches! The smoked fish that look like shoes, as Sarah R. pointed out!
I've heard Berliners are almost fanatical about seasonal eating -- some locals told us that when pfifferlinge are in season, they're on every menu, prepared a million ways. Berliners are also profoundly good at taking advantage of outdoor and green space in the summer, weaving nature into everyday life. Maybe it's the hard winters, and maybe things would be different in New York if we had more space. Whatever it is, it's really inspiring.
On our third day in Berlin, Sarah R.'s mom invited us to take a three-hour cruise around the canals and onto the river Spree. I know it sounds kind of cheesy and touristy, but I'd heard from several people that this was a great way to see Berlin. We met near the Markisches Museum U-Bahn stop on Inselstrasse, where we all boarded the top deck of a packed tour boat. The boat tour is kind of like It's a Small Ent World -- the lushness along the city's canals is unreal. Tons of weeping willows pour their hair into the water. City residents come and sit out on the benches all along the canals, or dangle their legs over the river's ledge to enjoy the breeze over the water and watch the boats drift lazily by.
For three hours, we ducked down under low bridges, drank beer and sekt, and ate sausages and ice cream, all while the sun made its slow descent below the horizon. The weather was perfect -- high 70s cooling into the breezy low-70s. As the colorful graffiti of Friedrichshain introduced us to the canal-side beerhouses of Kreuzberg, which became hidden by the bosomy trees of pretty Schöneberg, which gave way to the bricks and mortar of the city center, the sky went from magic hour light to rainbow sherbet to blue velvet. The merman statues in Nikolaiviertel threw dominating shadows against spotlights onto the buildings on the opposite side of the river. While passing Museum Island, you could see straight into the Bode Museum, the marble sculptures waving from within their well-lit home. Totally magical.
To be continued...
Hooray, you did the boat tour! And wasn't it amazing, despite the fear of cheese? And Winterfeldplatz! My mom and I used to go grocery shopping there every weekend. Good Christ, woman. These posts make me want to move home.