9/20

I spent most of the day just taking it easy and doing good mental health things — walks, coffee, etc.

The fun started with an afternoon walk. I checked out a portion of the Berlin Wall. The section here was both taller and thicker than the one I saw last trip. I crossed the Spree River and found what I was searching for. That’s right: I ate a burger that was cooked inside an old shithouse.

There was a derelict public bathroom that had sat empty and unused. A company called Burgermeister gutted it, fixed it up, and turned it into a burger stand. Judging by the crispy bits, I believe they serve up proper smash burgers. I got a Fleischermeister — double meat, double cheese, with fried onions.

After I smashed my smash burger, I headed back across the river, and before long I found myself at a brewery. Schalander Privatbrauerei brews up a few different beers. I ordered the Pilsner. It had a little more haze than I’d be comfortable with in a pilsner, but it was a pretty darn tasty example of the style.

I hit up a few more spots in my neighborhood before calling it an early night. I had a Sunday day trip planned…

9/21 – Sundays Are for Day Drinking

Not Czech Republic day trips. Just drinking.

I was up and at ’em early. I got out of the room and was en route to the Berlin Hauptbahnhof before 09:00. Along the way, I discovered ChatGPT had failed me again. My understanding was that it would be two trains to get to Děčín and just under three hours of travel. Apparently, they’re working on the tracks. It was train → bus → train, and almost four hours. And the first train wasn’t until 10:40.

No problem. I was mentally prepared for opportunities like this. I started weighing other day trip options. Szczecin, Poland? Too late for that bus. Hamburg, Leipzig, and Dresden either failed to tickle my fancy or weren’t practical. At the Hauptbahnhof, I found a pretzel and a spot of floor to sit on. I spent some time on my phone and decided I’d be staying in Berlin today.

I learned there was a food truck situation up in Prenzlauer Berg at a place called Kulturbrauerei. It started at 12:00. That would be my fun plan.

Back at my hotel, I regrouped. I spent some time writing, then got myself ready. I caught the U5 train and rode it for one stop. Then I got on a tram. Soon, I was in Prenzlauer Berg — the neighborhood where I stayed in 2019, my first trip to Berlin.

It didn’t take me long to get to Kulturbrauerei. Originally this space housed a brewery, built in 1871. It ran until 1967. I wandered in and soon spotted a food truck serving up pierogi. I looked over the menu, and only one really sparked my interest — and it sparked it big. You see, it’s mushroom foraging season. Foraging is very common in most Slavic countries. This food truck had Pilz-Perrogen. It was Pierogi, stuffed with wild mushrooms foraged from the Czech Republic.

I ordered half of mine boiled and fried, the other half just boiled. A smoked plum and onion sauce was recommended. I also got fresh herbs and a side of sour cream. When my food came out, it was three fried and two boiled. The fried ones had been pan-seared in butter, with toasty brown spots. Honestly, I think I had a slight preference for the boiled ones, which surprised me. Either way, they were delicious — and they made me thirsty.

Prater Garten was nearby. I didn’t get to go last trip because the weather was shit. This was a beautiful day, so I headed in. You go to one window and order your beer. It comes out of another window, and then you walk over to a booth to pay. You pay a €2 deposit for your mug. They give you a token with your mug — and that token must be returned with your mug to get your deposit back. Quite a system. This was very much a Bavarian Biergarten experience.

I had a Helles and a Dunkel. Find the Instagram reel link to see what those were like. Spoiler alert: fucking delicious.

Next I took a long walk from Prenzlauer Berg to Mitte. I was headed to the Weihenstephaner Bierhalle. When I finally got there, I made my way inside. They had an empty bar top, so I bellied up. This is where things got confusing.

There was a menu on the table. Nothing but Ayinger beers on it. But I was here to drink the Weihenstephaner Festbier. This hit too close to home — made me feel some work frustrations. “What fucking brewery am I at?” I asked the man if he had a Festbier. He said “Ja” and poured me one. But whose Bier was I drinking?

The umbrellas outside said Weihenstephan. The menus said Ayinger. Ayinger is privately owned; Weihenstephan is state-owned. Both great breweries, but not the same.

When the beer came, the frustrations continued. It didn’t taste right. Often here, they pour with the faucet in the beer. You have to keep the faucet clean. If beer sits on the faucet and gets funky, it can ruin a whole glass. Or maybe they just had dirty tap lines. At work, most of our bartenders pour a proper pint. But I’ve had issues with our satellite pubs — dirty lines, sanitizer taste from badly washed glasses, or not spritzed before filling. I did not come on vacation to feel these feelings.

I left with beer still in my glass and headed to the next place.

I stumbled upon a spot called Unabhängige Craft Brauerei Lemke Berlin. I found my way to a table out back in a little Biergarten area. After a long wait, a fellow came by and I ordered a Pils and a classic sausage plate.

When the Pilsner came, I was happy. See the Instagram reel for more on that lovely Bier. The sausage plate was served on a board: a bowl of Sauerkraut, two bratwursts, mustard (Senf, in local speak), and some rye bread. I womped my sausage like I quaffed that Pils. I was hungry.

Special note: every bratwurst I’ve had in Germany has been more finely ground than what we see on the West Coast of the USA.

I left Unabhängige and headed to Berliner Marcus Bräu. Here, I had more disappointing beer. I ordered a 0.3 Rötbier and a 0.3 Pils. I don’t know Rötbier, but ChatGPT tells me it’s supposed to be a lager style. I reckoned it might be a sour style. But when my Pils was sour too. It was also served the warmest, of any beer, bier or Pivo. I have ever had. I have never been served warm draught beer when traveling abroad. This shit was warm… I figured it was time to keep walking.

And walk I did. From Prenzlauer Berg to Mitte, and then all the way back to Friedrichshain. I stopped once for a piss and a Pils. Eventually, I wound up at my “local” Protokoll before staggering home and going to bed.

9/22 and 9/23

These two days were pretty similar. Just me trying to cram in as much hedonic, hedonistic behavior into my last days in town as possible. Walks, epic Döners, Fußpils, historical sights — all the things I love Berlin for.

The standout memories were the Döners and a brewery called Straßenbräu. From the Pils to the Dark Lager, to the Pale Ale and Nitro Stout, every beer was a well-brewed, tasty example of its style.

I had spent some time chatting up the lady behind the bar at Protokoll. She told me her favorite Döner place was Räyam. So I checked it out — and ate a 9/10 Döner. Please see the reel for that.

I spent time wandering around the Kreuzberg neighborhood. I got another 9/10 Döner at a spot called Döner Box. Watch the Instagram reel for that one. I paired it with a pretty fresh Berliner Pilsner — bottled in late May. They stamp a bogus “best by” date on these beers, a year after bottling. Industry secret: if a beer has a “best by date,” the flavor will degrade long before that. The brewery is relying on the customer’s shitty palate to drink it anyway. Most customers do. Only fucking pricks like me are disappointed.

Next I found myself at the Kreuzberg Markthalle. After a piss, I was drinking beers and making trips to the pissoir. You can watch that Instagram reel to hear about those beers.

I went back to my hotel, rehydrated, recovered, then went out for more Berlin fun. I stayed up past my bedtime and set myself up for a rough start to Strasbourg…