Ich Bin Ein Berliner

Those are the words of JFK upon visiting the city to confirm American solidarity with West Berlin in the face of the East closing access routes to the city. It means I am a Berliner, and I think that in many ways, it rings true today. This is one of the most vibrant and unique cities that I have ever visited. It is full of street art, high end shops, cafes, bars, clubs, restaurants, and there is a really lively atmosphere.

From Riga, I made my way across Poland, visiting Krakow and Auschwitz, before riding the rails through the night to Berlin. Since I got to this city, I have spent most of my time visiting former squats, checking out art studios and photographing graffiti, which is pretty much everywhere you look around here. I live off Kebab which is incredibly good and cheap, while pretty much everything else is quite expensive.

There are some strange bars that ou can visit including the Last Cathedral which is owned by Rammstein and looks like a church, or the Upside Down bar, where all the furniture is bolted to the ceiling. There are a couple more that I didn't get a chance to check out, like the Alien Bar where there are Aliens busting through the walls all over the place, or the Ping Pong bar, where all the patrons have a paddle and there is only one table.

The city has a real pulse to it, and there is a strange mix of crumbling buildings, and gentrified neighbourhoods. In one spot, a bunch of youth have changed a bombed out train station into an entertainment complex including a skate park, a bunch of bars, cafes and a nightclub.

I feel like this is my last dose of civilization before headed back into the dry heat of the Middle East. In spite of my mind remaining on my ever diminishing budget, I have not been able to resist the lure of three euro lattes and the occasional sushi special to supplement my all kebab diet.

The evenings also involved the occasional splurge on pub crawls to strange and wonderful places. The only factor diminishing my enjoyment of the unique nightlife were the hordes of drunken Aussies determined to provide evidence of machismo by swilling beer that increased the volume of their antics until the point where they started falling down. I can't imagine more asinine behaviour, but this is the world of the frat boy tourist, a world I have so successfully avoided for the majority of this trip. I'll be rid of them by Tehran.