A dreamy haze seemed to hang over Berlin from when we touched down, and clung there for the entirety of our stay. The weather was as temperamental as we were and days swung from flooding sunshine to windswept storms in a matter of minutes.
Amongst a busy week of merchandising for a new store opening, I managed to squeeze in a couple hours here and there for sightseeing and gorging myself on schnitzel and sausages, and unashamedly, a lot of Thai food.
Berlin is achingly cool, a whole city of Shoreditch, with graffiti and posters plastered across the city, street style London won’t see for months and a history that is still fresh enough to feel it thick in the air. It manages to perfectly entwine 80s tacky décor and infrastructure with modern day hipster cool.
I managed to nab some of my French colleagues on our day off and we gorged ourselves on an amazing brunch at Kaffe Einstein. Think The Breakfast Club with class; set in a grand old converted house with original moldings and illustrious vases of flowers set elegantly alongside black and white framed photos of the Berlin chic.
The rest of the day was spent exploring the city and basking in the sun, walking the wall and drinking coffee and eating apple strudel. We managed to walk far enough up a hill to get away from the more suffocating concrete that envelopes much of the city and later catch some greenery in the main park.
Berlin’s notorious club scene didn’t tickle my fancy that week. Perhaps because I’m getting older or maybe just more boring. I left the infamous naked clubs where you leave your phone, and your clothes, at the entrance and nabbed myself a candlelit meal with great company in Savignyplatz. Spinach gnocchi stuffed with cheese and second helpings of red wine and lashings of compliments. Far better than seeing all the wobbly bits of Berlin’s party animals, but do correct me if I’m wrong.