Looking for Something "Light" in Berlin - 9/18/2010





Amsterdam Centraal Station

High Speed Trains all the way to Berlin. Once you get all of your luggage on board and stowed and find your seats, it is very relaxing. Apparently not a lot of people travel on Saturdays so there is no need for reservations. These trains have plenty of areas to stow your luggage. There is no checked baggage, you just find a spot that is not in the way (behind seats, in little niches) and stow it. When you get on the train, there are digital signs above the seats that indicate whether they have been reserved. We took the ICE from Amsterdam to Duisdorf which lasted about two hours, changed trains, and then proceeded from Duisdorf to Berlin, which took another four hours during which time we had a picnic of salad and prepared foods that we had purchased in Amsterdam. Cruising along at a little over 150 miles an hour, we arrived in Berlin's Central Train Station a little after 3:00 . . . right in the midst of a large nuclear protest rally so the station was pretty chaotic. Having boned up on Berlin's mass transit system the day before, via the internet (we learned our lesson in Amsterdam), we knew that we would be taking both an elevated (S-bahn) and underground (U-bahn) train to our hotel. We purchased a few day passes, found our train and hopped aboard.





Picnic on the ICE



Every transportation system has been different. In Paris, provided you travelled within a certain large area of Paris proper, you could travel anywhere for the same price. Purchase a ticket at a kiosk or ticket booth, send it through the ticket machine, board and ride your train, then send your ticket through again to exit the train station. In Belgium's northern coast you can purchase tickets at a kiosk or on the tram. We never quite figured out the system, sometimes you had to check your ticket in at a yellow box when you boarded the tram, sometimes you didn't. Seemed that the system operated on an honor system, because there appeared to be no way to prevent people from boarding the tram who hadn't purchased a ticket and we witnessed no monitoring. In Amsterdam, you could purchase one ticket from the conductor or at a kiosk for one price and it was good on any metro, bus, or tram for one hour. If you stay for at least a day and plan on using the mass transit system, it makes sense to purchase single or multi-day passes. You flash the pass in front of an electronic reader when entering and exiting the tram, bus, or metro station and a little electronic chip in your pass communciates that you are legit. Pretty nifty system once you figure it out. Here in Berlin, we've purchased day passes. Before entering the train the first time using the pass, you must validate the pass at a small machine on the platform which stamps the date and time on the pass. You can then use that pass all day until 3:00 the following morning. I imagine you can purchase individual trip passes, as well. Like in Belgium, there is nothing preventing you from entering the trains and possibly buses if you don't have a pass or ticket, however, the guidebook warns that the trains and buses are frequently patrolled and if you are found without an appropriately validated ticket, you will be fined 40 Euros, no small chunck of change. It will be interesting to see what Prague has in store for us.



Belin Central Bahnhoff



We managed to get to our hotel by 4:00, checked in, very nice but no Amstel Canal House, and then decided to go investigate a little. Our hotel is centered on the southern border the Tiergarden, a large 412 acre park and we are about a mile west of where the Berlin wall was once located. In search of food, we went to a place just down the street called "Pa De Wa," recommended in the guidebook, which is a seven-floor department store. On the seventh floor is a cafe, but it was the sixth floor that we were seeking which was an upscale market selling all sorts of items. The place was huge, kind of like a Whole Foods on steroirds (but no free samples). It was "organized" into a confusing and chaotic maze by food type, meats/cured meats, fish, chocolate, breads, wine (over 2400 different bottles), cheese (guidebook says 1300 kinds - thank god there were no free samples), prepared foods, veggies, and so on. Once the tour groups cleared out, it became a little less confusing but we never did get a handle of the layout. Within each food group there was often a space where you could sit down and purchase and eat some of the food. Often times these areas had their own open kitchens where you could watch your food being prepared. We found the sausage section, which sold bavarian pretzels so we sat down and had a couple of pretzels with mustard to take off the edge before we went in search of dinner.

Our hotel is situated in a rather quiet part of town. It reminds me of the business sector of most American cities which is almost a ghost town in the evenings and on the weekends. After being in the vibrant hearts of Paris, Brussels, and Amsterdam, surrounded by little eateries and shops, this was a new experience for us. The guidebook recommended a number of up and coming trendy areas in what was formerly East Berlin for food and shops so we hiked on down to the U-bahn and took a 20-minute train ride into East Berlin and got off in the Prenlauzer Berg area, in search of a little restaurant called, Gugelhof, known for its Alsatian food and a favorite of locals and tourists alike. The guidebook warned us that this was a sketchy area and walking through the heavily-graffittied area in twilight we agreed. But there were quite a few families out and about with their kids so it may be that these neigborhoods are in transition to becoming safer and gentrified.


Gugelhof Interior - Bill Clinton ate here:-)

 As is often the case, we were disoriented coming out of the U-bahn, so took the wrong street and had trouble finding any decent eatery let alone the recommended restaurant. We were about to pack it in and head back for hotel when, upon turning a corner we came upon the correct street and a few blocks down, found our restaurant, which, at 8:00 pm was PACKED. We walked in and the bartender who looked uncannily like Morgan Freeman welcomed us. No tables were available, everything was reserved for the evening (as usual), but, with a huge grin, he said the bar was always open. There happened to be two availabe barstools, and, unable to refuse his invitation, we had a seat. The establishment was quiant with stuccoed walls, and simple wood furniture. Waitstaff dressed impeccably in black trousers, vests, and ties, and white shirts. We were handed the menu which took a while to understand because it was translated into four different languages, German, French, English, and something else, perhaps Dutch.

Hoping beyond hope for something light, we found it. Though sorely tempted by the cheese fondue (this late in the evening it would have been painful, Ooofta), I ordered the trout with veggies in an herb and reisling broth and Rick ordered a stew of beef and lamb and vegetables. We asked the bartender, Omar, to recommend a dry white, and he gave us a wonderful reisling. Reislings can be dry depending on the time of harves.


The Bar at Gugelhof

 We then settled in, observed, and chatted with the very charming Omar, fluent in many languages, and quite proficient behind the bar. While waiting for our food Rick taught me German and we could tell that Omar and the other waitstaff were bemusedly listening in so we enlisted their aid and they gladly helped out when we got stuck on a word. Embarrassed that our food was taking such a long time (only took an hour) Omar refilled our wine glasses and kept us happy. This was quite the local joint. Sure there were tourists like ourselves, but usually as a party was leaving, they'd stop by and chat it up with Omar, clearly familiar with each other, and often Omar would pour them a little champagne before they left.



Neat Bottles Containing Who-Knows-What



Our food was well worth the wait. I had a whole trout, skin and all, swimming (pun intended) in a broth of chicken stock, reisling and herbs. Apparently, I was suppose to let Omar skin, behead, and debone the critter for me, but he was occupied at the time I received my plate, and, unaware that he was suppose to do this me, I dug in and skinned, beheaded, and deboned the guy myself. Omar was impressed, though a little put out that I did not wait for him to do his job. I apologized, which he accepted provide that I promised that next time I would wait for him. Agreed. Rick's meal was a wonder. It came out in a pot with the lid on and protruding through the cracks between the pot and lid was a huge ring of bread/biscuit/pretzel which had to be carefully cut off and placed on the plate, looking like a humongous doughnout. Open the lid and the delectable smell of the stew, really a broth with cubed meat and vegetables, wafted out and made the mouth water. It seemed almost like a bourgoungoine but made with white wine instead of red and bay leaves were prominent in both dishes but not overpowering. We slowly savored our food, quiet accept for my occasional mouthful mumble of "This is so good."



Omar at the Bar



Unfortunately plates become empty and stomachs become ffull and the meal came to an end. Omar asked if we would like anything else and in my fledling German I asked for an apertif of his choosing. He corrected me and said I meant "digestive". Rick asked for a port, which Omar slightly disapproved of because it really is meant to be an apertif, something for before dinner. Rick said that in the US we generally drink it after. Omar replied, in German, "I know, THAT is the problem." He, like a patient father, conceded in providing Rick a port and then set to work on figuring out what to give me and asked whether a I preferred clear or tawny. I replied tawny. He grinned and poured me what turned out to be a 30-yr old cognac. I thought to myself, well there goes the bill (and it was my turn to pay) but given the wonderful evening, I just didn't care. We savored our drinks for another 45 minutes and then finally had to ask for the check. Omar bemoaned us leaving him and took awhile getting us the check. We chatted a little more and learned that he was originally from Sudan. At 62 years old, he is "retired" but likes to bartend Saturday nights. It helps keep him fit and his mind sharp. No kidding. He was quite the one-man show behind the bar showing considerable physical and mental stamina, cleaning dishes, filling orders, delivering food, keeping everything neat and clean and in its place, and making every customer feel special. I commented that we were fortunate to come in then tonight because it has been quite the gift to meet him. He smiled. He handed me the check which had missing from the tally most of the wine and all of the port and cognac. We just handed him the payment along with, in European terms, a very large tip. He kissed my hand and shook Rick's, we said Guten Nacht, and he pronounced that he has the premonition that we will see each other again. I replied that was good and I'm looking forward to it.