On paper, it didn’t fit—it really didn’t, and by that, I
mean not at all. I consider myself an
outdoorsy person. I love the smell of
the sea, and the cool mist that washes over you as waves crash at your feet when
you’re standing ankle deep at the shoreline.
I crave the saltiness the ocean leaves on your skin, and the stickiness
that only a day at the beach could leave you—proof that you spent a day outside
office walls, and under rays of sunlight rather than beams of
fluorescents. If given the choice, I’d prefer
towering trees to buildings, public parks over urban playgrounds, a hike up Mt.
Wilson over a stroll down Third Street, Southern California sunshine to Seattle
showers.
Berlin was and is none of that, and I was fine with it. In all honesty, I came to Berlin for the
culture. I wanted to visit a place with
history; a place where the walls had a past—a story written deep in the
cemented grounds and buildings. So if I
were to tell you that I came to Berlin to find and fall in love with the place,
that’d be a straight up lie. Berlin is a
place where graffiti-ed walls loomed and cigarette smoke lingered; where the
hustle and bustle of people and the shuffling of feet replaced rustling trees;
where horns blared, trash cans banged, and car stereos boomed, overcoming a
silence that was once so deafening, and yet so pleasing to a listening
ear. On paper, it didn't fit, but I
guess that’s why they say love hits you when you least expect it—when you’re
doing everything else but looking.
On one of our first days in Germany, our program
coordinators had warned us about the dangers of Berlin and really, the dangers
that come with residing in any urban city.
“Pickpocketing and theft here are not uncommon occurrences”, they stated
matter-of-factly. “Keep an eye on your
things”, they reminded us, “Tend to your belongings”. Preoccupied with the abundance of monuments
and museums, the shelves stocked full of dark, seedy, wholesome breads, the
availability and efficiency of buses, U-Bahns, trams, and S-Bahns, and the
donuts, cakes, and puff pastries silently teasing and taunting from the other
side of the glass cases, I let my guard down and as a result, had my heart
stolen. Somewhere in the course of these
five weeks, I fell for the city—sudden, quick, and hard. Maybe it happened after that first bite of
the buttery white asparagus, or maybe it was that first mouthful of Weiner
schnitzel, sauerbraten, or red cabbage—that first step in Treptower Park, that
first glance at the Russian War Memorial, that first whiff of döner, the
first decapitation of a German Haribo gummy bear, or maybe it was E, all of the
above. Regardless of how it
started, like all great love stories, it’s the end, rather than the beginning
that truly matters. Forget the fact that
Cinderella met her prince at the ball, forget the pumpkin and the glass
slipper, it’s all about that glitzed and glammed happily ever after. The years Noah and Allie spent apart, the
boat scene at the lake, all minute details not nearly as important as the fact
that she passed in the warmth of his sweet embrace. Good love stories have good beginnings. Great ones, however, have magnificent
endings, and that’s the only one I’ll settle for in my love story with Berlin.
They were right about Berlin, you see—the city really does
steal from you. Whether it may be Euros
or hearts, you shouldn’t expect any of it back, which is why you have to make
the most of it. And with one week left, you
can trust that that’s the only thing I intend to do. My love story will truly be magnificent, and
it’ll begin with some local German baked goods!
Bäckerei Und Konditorei Siebert, located on Schönfließer Str. 12, 10439 Berlin,
Germany
is supposedly the oldest bakery in Berlin!
Apparently, you really can't go wrong with any bread or baked good here!
And on Saturdays, it's advised to come early to beat the crowd! Thankfully, I arrived at an odd hour and was only confronted by a small line of about four or five people!
I had a nice slice of Pfaumkuchen, otherwise known as plum cake!
And this bakery supposedly makes the best Berliners, otherwise known as donuts, in Berlin! In my excitement, I bought three...They were jelly filled and so much lighter and fluffier than the stereotypical Krispy Kreme!
I definitely plan on going back for more! Would you care to join me?! It's a love story, baby just say YES!
Tschüss,
Kimmy
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