Schnee-Kalt-Genießen

It got colder while we slept. Tee shirt, thermals, winterlite thermal, sweatshirt, scarf, wool coat and hat. Still cold. The newspaper (Zeitung) says it could be -20ºC, not sure what that means, other than more snow for the next few days. The streets are kind of empty and Danielle thinks that it’s because it’s so cold. Zach insists that the Germans should be used to it by now and that this is just how it is here. Really though, the cold is hardly an inconvenience, we just move from place to place with more, uh, determination than we would otherwise. The cold has become an integral part of the Berlin event.
We moved into our apartment this morning; it is just as nice as Herr Hahn’s apartment upstairs and, including the kitchenette and bathroom, is about the same square footage as the room we were in last night. We started out with a traditional German breakfast (Frühstuck): brötchen (little bread rolls), meat, cheese, and assorted yogurt-spready stuff. Danielle tried her hand (well, German) at ordering cuts from the deli and we ended up with what might have been gelled trotter terrine and boudin blanc. Not bad. Then we headed out to the “espressolounge”, which is fast-becoming our regular spot. Next we were off to the Berlinische Galerie, a museum in a converted glass factory about one half the size of the SFMOMA on two floors, but not before a quick stop at Curry 36 for fried sausage and potatoes.
The first floor of the Berlinische Galerie is currently taken up by a video and photography exhibition and the second by what looks to be a permanent collection of late-19th to mid-to-late-20th century painting and sculpture. Highlights were: Christoph Brech’s video installation, Opus 110a; Ori Gerscht’s Big Bang and Pomegranate “Moving Stills”; Georg Grosz and John Hertfield’s The Conformist Turned Wild Electro-Mechanical Tatlin Sculpture; Hanne Hoch’s The Bride (Pandora); Otto Dix’s The Poet Iwar von Lücken; and Wolf Vostell’s We Were a Kind of Museum Piece. The experience restored Danielle’s faith in photographic art.
From the museum we walked back to Freidrichstraße in search of coffee and warmth where we came across a Free Palestine/Palestinian Liberation march of well over a thousand demonstrators under the watch of hundreds of police officers. After consulting our Lonely Planet guide over frothy espresso goodness, we ended up back in Eastern Kreuzberg for another Turkish meal, half of which followed us back to Western Kreuzberg to the Barbie Bar (gay bar?) where we sit here typing, sipping wine, watching girls make-out on the couch, and looking out the window at the snow falling in sheets. The tracks of our short walk home will certainly be covered-over come morning.