To the not faint of heart, I recommend visiting one of Berlin’s most striking modern ruins: the former listening station towers atop Teufelsberg. The berg itself is a man-made mountain assembled from the wreckage of World War Two. The listening stations, which resemble giant golf balls, were built by western forces to intercept radio communications from the east during the Cold War. The complex has since fallen into a state of extreme disrepair, helped along by the prolific efforts of squatters, vandals and zombies of the post-apocalypse. It’s a powerful sight to behold, and the sunset view of Berlin is among the city’s best. In the interest of full disclosure, one must trespass through barb-wired fence holes just to get in–not to mention ankle breaking holes in the floor, rusty shrapnel, piles of broken glass and doorways to nowhere. I advise bringing a flashlight, a bottle of wine and perhaps a first aid kit. Enjoy!
Teufelsberg Hörentürme
Hamlet Cigarettes
“Prince Denmark” is a funny sort of brand name. I’m not sure if it is meant to evoke the most famous prince of that Nordic land, but one might free associate “mass tragedy”, “untimely death” or “ear poison”. The play is a blood bath, after all. Turns out it’s cigarettes. That took a while to figure out since advertising is limited to the helpful but understated bike racks pictured above. My bets were on discount condoms, hygienic shoe inserts or malt liquor.
Losers Weepers
Going to the lost-and-found in Berlin is quite a trip. To begin with, the office is located in a corner of the now closed Tempelhof airport – a giant structure which once satisfied the Nazis’ desire for Monumentalism. 
At the front door, you are welcomed by this sign. It says:
Due to the “new flu” we will refrain from shaking your hand!
Interesting – until now, I was not aware that shaking hands was customary in such a situation. Obviously, I’ve missed my chances here, but maybe I’ll try it the next time I go to the post office or bank.
Once you pass through two heavy double doors you find yourself in a swimming pool-like hallway. Behind three different doors lie three different types of lost objects.Number 1: General objects (including bags, clothes, glasses and instruments) and special objectsNumber 2: Keys and vehicles (including bikes, scooters, boats and strollers)
Number 3: Valuables and electronic equipment
After you have figured out behind which of the three counters you might find your lost object please ring the bell one time, one time only, and someone will crawl from the depths of lost articles eager to help you find your valuable. Pah! They have had it with people losing their things. So don’t bother showing up unless you have exactly what it is they require as evidence that the thing you are trying to pick up actually belongs to you. Anything that you would consider evidence enough will not be accepted.
Most likely, you will return home empty handed, but one Berlin experience richer.
Choc-Blop
I’ve always understood granola to be a more or less healthy type of breakfast cereal rather than a brand. “Choc-Blop”, by contrast, is like a generic term of derogation my parents might have improvised in the supermarket aisle. As in, “I’m not buying you any ‘Tootie Frooties’, or ‘Choc-Bloppers’, or ‘Count Flatula’. That stuff is junk.”Anyways, if I was a child of today you can bet I’d be referencing that Granola logo and imaginary quality award (Choc-Blop wins every year). Then I’d show my mom that the box is written in German on one side and Italian on the other, and explain that it’s really a question of cerebral enrichment.
Schwäne
I cannot believe the snow is not more to be seen in such a short period of time. After all I will miss the slippery morning sensation and the contusions derived from falling in painfully shameful ways.
These swans are to be seen in the Landwehrkanal if you go to buy vegetables, bread, honey or funny underwear to the Turkish Market that takes place in Maybachufer Strasse every Tuesday and Friday.
Ape or Wasp?
I always liked the name “Ape” for this miniest of mini-transport vehicles. It seemed so incongruous.
Well I found out the Ape is actually made by the Italians who brought you Vespa and is pronounced “ah-pay”, which translates to the more fitting “wasp”.
The orange box can be removed to reveal a quick and dainty chick-corral. That may seem like icing on the cake to you and me, but it’s an absolute must-have for the Ape’s target demographic: professional calendar cats who operate miniature farms.
I also dig the badge. The slinky lettering is nice, as is the “P” that pops out as if it were crammed into a box.
Best of all, at the end of the day the little cavallo transforms into a loud but powerful espresso machine.
Gesamtkunstwurst
Here is our local bulk wurst counter. The bold scent of sour pork permeates the entire market hall in which it is housed. The women running the place, who look like addled car hops, are normally either frazzlin’-out behind the counter (pictured above) or smoking cigarettes in front of it. Who can blame them for improving the wurstie air with tobacco smoke? If baristas come to despise the smell of their daily drudge, God save the wurst frauen.
While the smell of the wurst counter is all too realistic, the iconography is anything but. Here we see a few scenes from the merry lives of meat products. This probably gives you a feeling like, “würstchen are not so different myself and other people I know”.True, the curvature of a wurst is similar to that of a jaunty human torso. Also true that the nub of cinched sausage casing bears an uncanny resemblance to a shock of hair, or some such thing. And of course the wurst hue is pretty much spot-on normal human color.However, this misses the whole point of the piece: wurst are not like us; they are not created equal.The top two sausages pictured above, while probably very nice, are clearly defective one-offs. No wonder the one at the top is so shy, he’s more orange than tan and his arms are completely white–likely the result of some chemical cover up for a lack of naturally occuring gloves. The next one down has shed his acoutrements altogether and gone completely AWOL. He’s not even trying to be eaten anymore and will most likely end up rotting in a crawlspace whenever he runs out of steam.But how about those dapper chaps down below? They reek of class. Their easy grins connote a bullion-backed confidence that is beyond reproach. You could hate on them, but why not instead commence a mutually rewarding consumer-consumee relationship with your new trusted friends?By the way, the hat-tipping wurst in the top picture walks just like Avon Barksdale from The Wire. Who’s gonna step to that?
Mo-Fr 9:3o – 2o.oo Uhr und Sa 9:3o – 2o.oo Uhr
Wildschweine im Volkspark Rehberge
In Volkspark Rehberge (U6) you can see some wild boars. You can smell them from further away as well.
There are other animals in this park, all of them are caged so they do not eat the unlikely tourists/get eaten by the unlikely tourists.
Bild Zeitung!
It feels good to enter the U-Bahn only to find (at last!) advertising that actually gives you good advice…
By the way… have you ever seen all those posters in the U-Bahn asking for people who is willing to try medicaments for pharmaceutical companies? How legal is that? How much do they pay? Where do they bury the corpses?
