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I arrived Thursday to a wall of rain which saddened our sightseeing efforts a bit. We managed to get out for a walk, crossing the canal and walking along the path of the former wall, straddling what was once the East and the West (above). I have no kind of reference for what that really means. I was eight Germany was reunited and I don't recall having any kind of conversation about it. It's strange for me to think that this Germany has existed now for just 20 years.
I fell in love with the Ampelmänner of the former East. I think they have such personality. After the wall fell there was debate over whether or not to continue using them. I'm quite pleased that they are still around. Not to mention they now have shops with a whole line of clothing, accessories and stickers. Some of their sillier items incluse salt and pepper shakers and Ampelmann shaped pasta which, I am assuming, you can order at the Ampelmann Restaurant.
Saturday we made it all around and one of the last stops was the East Side Gallery. A strip of the wall is still standing and covered in artwork. We didn't walk the full 1.3 km, but it was powerful all the same.
In this torn city there are many memorials and this one was probably my favorite. The Memorial for Murdered Jews of Europe is different than any memorial I have ever been to. You are welcome to enter and walk through the rows and rows of towering concrete blocks. I think it encourages the kind of thought and reflection one should have when visiting a memorial. I could have spent an hour in there. 
We happened to be in the city the day they were celebrating 60 years of Germany. There were a million visitors to Berlin for the celebrations and the area in front of the Brandenburg Gate and leading to the Victory Column was packed with people listening to music, eating, and drinking beer. Of course.
It also happened to be the day the Parliament voted on the new President. We approached the Reichstag (Parliament Building- above) just minutes before the announcement. There wasn't a lot of excitement about the event as the President doesn't actually do much of anything. He is mostly a face, an ambassador of sorts. Because of the election we weren't able to go into the Parliament Building but instead took a rest in front of it, enjoying the sun we were blessed with.
Another little break was taken in a beer garden in front of the victory column. A little refueling before climbing the 230 or so steps to the top of the tower. Christian ordered a Berliner Kindl (above) and unfortunately I sampled. Think of a very light pilsner with green jello mix thrown in. Not recommended. The climb to the top of the tower, however, very recommended. As you can see from my very first photo, the day was clear and gorgeous and we had a very good view of Berlin.
While seeing all the sites is always interesting and historical, I prefer to sort of wander aimlessly and see what I run into. I get a better sense of what a place is really like and less of what the city is trying to sell. Berlin is a very unique capital city. It is most often the case that the capital is the nicest, cleanest, and most expensive in the country. Berlin, however, seems to be a struggling city. Many people lost their jobs after the fall of the wall and apartments stand empty. Buildings are crumbling and the streets are dirty. It seems, too, to be the city that all the "freaks" and artists flee to which makes it my kind of place.
Spaces that would usually be shoved off as old and unusable are recycled into art galleries, rehearsal spaces and cafes.
The entire aesthetic of Berlin neighborhoods is fed by the idea unwanted things/people/spaces. It's diverse, textural and interesting. 
The market is full and lively. We walked away with a bag full of 15 mangoes for just two Euros.
Along the canal old buildings are turned into bars. On one side it's usually full with a young crowd, lounging on the floating docks, on the other side, a more quiet cafe with cozy couches and firelight.
And everywhere you go someone has found a way to take a space and turn it into art.
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