Volume 2, Day 11
I could feel the aftereffects of the alcohol in the morning, but didn’t harbor any regrets for my lack of sleep or hydration. After laying in bed for a while working up the courage to take a shower, I headed downstairs to be delightfully surprised by a functioning coffee machine with hot water. It has been nearly a week since I have drank my own coffee and I forgot how good it is.
Apart from the open air opera at one, the only other item on the docket was to visit the flea market at Mauer Park. I checked on Google to find that it didn’t start until 10, so I was definitely in no rush to leave. Hanging around in the room to charge my computer, it was insane to see how utterly wrecked the dorm room was after the weekend. The Americans had fled over night, the Lithuanian guy checked out early in the morning, and there was only one German guy left. He checked out too after housekeeping came by promptly at 10:05. Housekeeping was confused that I was hanging around, but I explained that I wasn’t checking out until tomorrow. They left, leaving the room in its chaotic state: a pair of sneakers, a locker full of food, bags of half rotten fruit, half drank sodas in cans and bottles, and several phone chargers were all either abandoned or forgotten in the rush to leave. I took the initiative to straighten up a bit and decided to add all the cans and bottles to my collection for recycling.
I packed up a bag with the groceries I had bought yesterday, a solar charger, and sunblock to go out for the day. I rented a Mobike and started biking towards Mauer Park, following the ring road around the north end of Berlin. I was probably about 80% there when I had the sudden stab of anxiety that I hadn’t locked my locker. Though I was the only occupant left in the room, who knows who else would show up. Unable to shake the obsessive worry, I turned around and headed back to the hostel. Somehow, I swear it was uphill both ways on the road. I dashed into the room to find that I had, in fact, locked up my stuff. Furthermore, housekeeping had made a pass through the room and it looked halfway decent. As if by ESP, the head housekeeper popped into the room shortly after me, pointed at the bin with pasta, pasta sauce, and a jug of laundry detergent. Is this yours? No. He pointed at the sneakers. No. He pointed at the wall chargers. Nope. Okay. I was half tempted to help myself to one of the plugs, since it would be helpful after losing the round pin adapter in Korea. But he was quick to gather up the items.
I checked my watch, and it was no late enough that there was no point in going to the flea market before the 1pm start of the concert. Feeling the pinch of spending 2 Euros on a fruitless bike trip, I had just enough time to walk to Babelplatz, so I headed back out the door and took a brisk hour long walk. The upside is that on the final stretch, I got to pass through some new neighborhoods. I was thinking that I’ve covered a lot of ground in Berlin and it was definitely time to move on.
When I reached the plaza, I was astounding to see how absolutely crowded it was. It took me a while to find a spot to sit down. There was almost an order to how people arranged themselves organically on their camping chairs or picnic blankets, but, in the Western mold, there was a bit too much space between and within groups. Of course, it didn’t help that every so often, a 7 ft German guy was completely sprawled out on the ground, occupying a space that would fit 20 or 30 Chinese people.
When I glanced at the concert program, I was immediately disappointed to realize it wasn’t going to be an opera. I had been hoping for a repeat performance of the Wagner title that I had only caught a glimpse of the day before. But Daniel Barenboim took the stage and introduced us in German and English to the two Romantic masters: Mendelsohn and Brahms to which we would be treated. He also made some comment welcoming the Japanese visitors. That was really odd because the featured soloist on the violin concerto was from South Korea. It was wonderful, in any case. I sipped on some wine, munched on bread and gummies, and took in the classical music surrounded by classical architecture on plaza. Though we were outside the concert hall, the crowd performed their part of listening attentively and maintaining silence. I was also hoping that the festival style setting would loosen up the audience for a return to the original styles. I don’t know where I heard it, but I recall that apart from chamber music, audiences to symphonies, operas and what not acted in much the same way that modern rock concert audiences do–clapping, cheering, hooting, hollering, and singing along. The overdue reverence and church-like hush of the modern symphony crowd is a huge part of what makes classical music so stuffy today.
They finished the violin concerto (in 3 movements) and a full symphony in just over an hour, and I was certainly disappointed for it to end so fast. After what must have been five, maybe ten minutes of standing ovation, Barenboim offered us an encore–a quick piece by Tchaikovsky–and the concert was over for good. During the performance, clouds had gathered in the sky to cast a gray pallor and a few drops of rain ominous hung over us like a sword of Damocles. For the second time, I noticed that my mobile data was essentially worthless when I tried to upload a post to Instragram. So, protip, don’t expect mobile data to work in huge crowds. The cell towers cannot handle the volume.
Since the concert was over by 2:30 (when I was expecting a 4 hour opera), I realized I still had ample time to walk up to Mauer Park and peruse the flea market. I passed some pretty hip neighborhoods on the way to the park, and would have possibly stopped for a snack if I hadn’t filled up so much on bread.
The park itself looked like a mini-Woodstock, full of hippies and artists doing their thing. Musicians provided a soundtrack to the bohemian paradise on the grass while people picnicked, played sports, or sold their handicrafts outside the scope of the flea market. The flea market proper was huge, and had a good ratio of commercial side hustles and sales of old/used goods. There were permanent structure eateries on one end and more temporary food stalls flanking the other end. I would say one could find pretty much anything there, though I’m not entirely convinced it would be the cheapest.
I took my time browsing, though I had absolutely no desire to buy anything. I wasn’t even tempted by the Legos. Compared with the weekend (farmer’s market), the sellers and shoppers were remarkably more international, and I barely heard any German being spoken. I tried to imagine what sort of side hustle I could do to bring in a little money. Would I cook? Would I fly back and forth to Asia, hauling suitcases full of cheap stuff. C and his wife have a jewelry business going. I wonder if they got started at the flea market.
After making several loops through the stalls, I decided to grab a little snack–a bratwurst, of course–and retired to the lawn in the park to eat it and finish the wine I was still carrying around. After eating my afternoon snack, I laid down for a short nap. Refreshed, I decided to pack up and begin the journey home. The first couple of blocks along the way were full of cheap restaurants, but it was too early for dinner and I was definitely not hungry, so I carried on.
Back at the hostel, I still had the entire room to myself, which was nice, especially when needing to make a Skype call. But, on the other hand, I was feeling a bit bored. I walked down to the back garden to look around and though there were still people around, the hostel was considerably emptier than the previous two nights. I decided to pop over to the little restaurant at the entrance of the S-bahn station and have a pizza with a glass of draft beer. It was nice. The weather was pleasant and the sky presented a dramatic tableau of clouds in the late afternoon sunlight (despite being 8pm). I drilled vocabulary to keep myself occupied. After being presented with the check (despite not asking for it), I paid, finished my beer, and wandered back to the hostel (some 10 meters away).
I sat on a bench by myself for a hot minute before deciding to sidle up to a group of revelers who were clearly speaking English among themselves. Here were the backpackers, mostly individual travelers who have coalesced into a group through shared English-speaking and love of alcohol, tobacco, and partying. Apparently, some of them had been drinking continually since the previous day. There was an American, several Australians, an Irish girl, and a German guy. Almost immediately after I walked over and greeted them, the South Africans showed up. I caught up with them briefly, then decided to get more to drink. I went with the German guy (he was from the Black Forest region) over to a Spati to buy some beers. I grabbed the coldest and cheapest beers I could find, but it took a while because he had to get cash from a machine. Back with the group, I must have hung out for 2 hours, participating in conversations with various configurations of people. When I finished my last beer, I decided to call it the night. I think they would have happily gone all night, and were even actively discussing going out to a club. It was 11 and I was done.
I went up to the room and watched a couple videos on Youtube before passing out and sleeping quite comfortably. The night air was cool, and the windows were open just right for the breeze to circulate.
| Mobike | 2 |
| Bratwurst | 2.5 |
| Hawaiian Pizza and beer | 12.2 |
| Spati beers | 2.9 |
| Total: | 19.6 EUR (152.9 RMB) (USD 22) |
Running Total: 5731.4 RMB (USD 827)
Daily Average: 521 RMB (USD 75.18)