Der Flohmarkt

So I am safe and sound in Berlin. The flight was not terrible, aside from the extremely loud American student who talked the whole way about nothing (read: "pronoun like verbed to the like noun, and pronoun verbed like with the like adjective noun and like totally verbed!") in a very loud voice right behind me. I have vague trazedone-hazed memories of composing a long and angry diatribe about her on this blog while I was trying, unsuccessfully, to sleep. But I am here now and most of my bitterness has dried up in the on-and-off Berlin sunshine.

So you'll have to wait for the details of my first day here, as I forgot my camera and thus had to take pictures with Andy's camera and now have to wait until I see him in Munich to get them...bla bla bla...excuses excuses....end result: I'll write about yesterday today, and today tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow and two days ago the day after tomorrow. You see? You'll get two days in one! It'll be a special treat, like when you were allowed two scoops of ice cream and you could choose TWO ENTIRELY DIFFERENT FLAVORS. Ah, bliss. I find it hard to wait myself!

Anyway... yesterday. We (meaning Luise, Andy, and myself) had coffee and croissants on Luise's balcony, then hopped on our bicycles and rode to this huge flea market, where Andy promptly got lost and we spent the next hour alternating between looking at stuff and looking for him. Once we had him safely back in our company, we decided we were hungry. And in Germany of course that means it's time to find some wursts.

So find them we did, and sat with wursts and beers (actually Radlers, beers mixed with Sprite...they come prebottled at the flea market!!!) in this inner courtyard that was covered with sand and hippie-esque Germans who were also eating wursts and drinking Radlers.





Behind Andy, who ate not one but TWO wursts, you can get a better idea of the crowd. What you cannot see are the three men passed out sleeping on the couch behind us, while a baby, who we found out later belonged to one of them, played with her feet and made cute baby noises from a stroller parked next to them.

After Andy flew home to Munich, Luise and I decided it was time to eat. Again. So we had spatzle, and my but it was good.



And after we ate spatzle and had what was most likely our sixth beer of the day, we went to see "Notes on a Scandal" at an open air cinema, where we had a bottle of wine and sat cooing happily (Luise, of course, talked the whole time) and looking very much like fat old ladies until the wee hours of the night.