Behind every Berlin building there seems to lie a hidden story.
I have lived in Berlin twice. At 21, I lived in Moabit, a former industrial area to which immigrants flocked during the industrial revolution and today in Schöneberg which, as one New York Times reporter called it, is the Bürgerlich side of Berlin (in other words Bourgeois, not Eastern hip.)
And although many of my bike trips lead me to adventures in the East. I am a girl who has always lived in West Berlin. There is extreme appeal in East Berlin, the historic center, the artists and their house squats, and of course that endearingly soviet-vintage tower that soars above us no matter where we live in Berlin.
No time do I miss Boston more than in the Fall. As the Berlin leaves change, it all floods back to me: Apple cider donuts, carved pumpkins, the beauty of the Boston Commons and how tightly I clung to that cup of piping hot coffee from the Thinking Cup just to keep myself warm. And all I can do is prevent myself from hopping on the first plane that will transport me to that world of dark red and golden leaves and those crisp walks and nights at the Goethe Institut.
All-in-all though, this is being unfair. Berlin Fall has incredible charms. So before the light runs away from me and the Christmas markets appear, here are seven things I will do in order to not miss American Fall.
There is beer, so cold, so refreshing, and so easy to drink — especially on long summer nights along the Spree. And then there is wine. White in the summer. Red in the Fall and Winter, but mostly there is only red wine for me.
Red wine. At 24, off of a street corner in Les Halles in a restaurant where we ordered plate after plate of food from the Basque country, a Frenchman once told me that red wine was always preferred. White wine was for fish. No other time, he emphasized.
And with these brief words, my transition from white to red was complete, especially during the colder months.