Burrrrr, it’s Berlin

Stepping out of the airport, I am hit with a blast of freezing artic air. Berlin is definitely in the throws of winter and noticeably colder than Barcelona. We head to a bed and breakfast located in the heart of the town. It is on one floor of a typical apartment and is only 35 euro a night. Tall coffered ceilings, shuttered windows and radiator heat make me feel more like a Berliner than a tourist. The streets of the city are in full seasonal festivity. Beautiful Christmas trees decked out in hand-blown glass ornaments and colorful twinkling lights fill the windows of all the stores. Christmas villages are set up along the wide sidewalks selling things you would only buy during this season. Candy canes, hot roasted chestnuts, and of course, plenty of presents. It is a modern city with reminders of the past strewed throughout the city. I walk by a huge stone cathedral that looks like it was bombed out, just a shell of its original self, too historic to tear down and too much of a rubble to restore. East and West Berlin seems to be seamlessly melted together from what I could tell. I never saw any remnants of a city torn in half by cold war politics. It’s Thanksgiving Day, and no turkey in sight. The Europeans are aware of this unique American holiday but take little notice of it. We find a nondescript corner Asian restaurant. I settle for pressed duck. The next day I find a coffee shop selling slices of apple pie. Half way through the slice I am thinking of family, friends and being thankful to be able to have this little adventure with so many of you. The next day it is back on Clickair and the flying bus taking us back to Barcelona.