My Berlin adventures started with lunch at Fischers Fritz. It is the only restaurant in Berlin proper with 2 Michelin stars. Yup, yup. Lunch is surprisingly affordable, assuming you go with the business lunch menu. I started with the Aspic of Chanterelle, Fava Beans and Radish Cream; Mr. Herb started with a soft boiled egg over some sort of sour greens with lobster jus (clearly their title was fancier than my description). The main courses were confit codfish (mine) and calf liver (his). Those also were much more involved and spiffy than I've just lead you to believe. Mr. Herb finished off his lunch with bread and butter pudding, which was pretty good - gold flakes and all. The food was just as good as should be expected - you know - that Michelin star creativity and inventiveness that should be expected. And the small portions - that is pretty consistent too when it comes to Michelin stars. This brings me to 6 Michelin stars for 2011. Wonder if I'll get any more in this year. Sure hope so. *wiggling eyebrows*
After lunch Herb headed off to work and I headed out to see what there is to see. I'll admit that I've been fairly excited to come to Berlin (really the only city in Germany I'm excited to see). I've been looking forward to seeing the wall, heading out to the nearby concentration camp museum, etc. I always feel bad when I say I'm looking forward to seeing these things. I'm afraid people don't really understand what I mean. For some reason, I'm quite fascinated with WWII and Communist Berlin. I feel a bit bad; I know Berlin wants you to see the new Berlin. And if I lived here, I'd feel like I shouldn't have to keep going over the good and (very) bad of my ancestors. But I'm fair more interested in the old Berlin than the new. And so, with my handy dandy map in my back pocket I'm off!
I headed out towards Check Point Charlie. Seemed as good a place as any to start to my self-guided tour. But first I stumbled across Anhalter Bahnhof - or rather the remains of Anhalter Bahnhof. I should have guessed the elderly were some of the first to receive "transports", but I hadn't. The fact that this piece of history isn't in my guide book or on my tourist map makes me confused and just a little bit queasy.
A few wrong turns later and I'm walking up the street to Check Point Charlie. The sign saying you are leaving the American Sector is still there. The museum seems a bit overkill and dated. The place is crawling with tourists. And still I found myself standing on the curb crying. I knew I had so wanted to see this part of Europe, but I honestly didn't realize that the feelings would be so deep and so strong.
I did my best to blink back the tears, snap my photo and head into a souvenir shop for postcards. (I try to always send them home to my parents and my grandma. This time, for the first time, I also picked one of for the in-laws - craziness.) In the shop, they were selling pieces of the wall. I'm not sure why, but I need one of these pieces of the wall. Standing there looking at the pieces of concrete affixed to acrylic bases, I'm thinking about watching the TV with my mom when I was 9 years old. The wall is coming down; my mom is crying.
Righty-o, so I head on over to the Topografie des Terrors where a large section of the wall has been preserved. The wall is old and faded. It is surrounded by modern exhibits full of history. And still I only walk along the wall, again crying. I'm thankful I've got sunglasses so no one can see the crazy young (ok - fine - young-ish) American girl walking along crying. I don't personally know anyone who died here. I don't know anyone who lived the divided Germany. But still I cry. The enormity of it, the gravity of it i's just too much to not cry. I'm still not sure exactly what emotions caused all those tears. But I'm glad I've been here. And I'm glad I have more to see. I'm also glad the hubs wasn't with me because I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have understood. And you don't hear me say it often, but I am proud to be a citizen of WWII's sleeping giant.
And of course it isn't all Debby Downer times around here. Mr. Herbert had a work dinner which left me to fend for myself. I headed down to the restaurant here in the Scandic Berlin hotel and ordered up some tapas. Though this wasn't just any tapas - no sir. I had curryworst of moose and reindeer involtini, as well as some slightly more normal goat cheese in pistachio/sesame seed coating with wasabi apple confit. While interesting, I can say with a fair amount of certainty that I won't be having reindeer involtini again any time soon. The moose curryworst pretty much rocked my socks though.
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