How in the World is ß Pronounced?!

I’m going to go out of order and share about Berlin before Amsterdam. No reason why, maybe because Berlin in more fresh in my mind.

Berlin. Let’s just say that I enjoyed Berlin socially. I don’t think I could ever live there permanently. As our map said, it’s basically a city full of poured concrete. In stark contrast to the lovely, romantic architecture of Paris, Berlin’s buildings are all-together grey, concrete, and not aesthetically pleasing. It also didn’t help that the weather was gloomy and we spent our time visiting Holocaust/WWII-related sights. What we saw: the Topography of Terrors, Checkpoint Charlie, The Wall, the Holocaust Memorial, the Berlin Zoo (!) and much, much more of Eastern Berlin that I ever cared to see.

The real fun on this leg of the trip was at our hostel, The Wombat. Thank you Wombat for giving us a true hostel experience! In our room alone, we met an Aussi, a girl from Mahnchesta, a crazy German women, and 2 friendly Irish girls. Our last night in town we decided to check out the hostel bar on the top floor. We arrived @ 8 and didn’t leave til 2 or 3 in the morning. That’s because we met a whole slew of drunken Irish boys from Dublin. The best part of the night: I didn’t have to pay for a single drink. This was my line-up: a glass of red, 4 Jägerbombs, a shot of something, beer, and a vodka w/ red bull.

These boys were hilarious and definitely lived up to their Irish heritage. They just kept ordering round after round of drinks. One of them was so knackered he went down to his room and emerged with an AFL training jersey…guess who has it now though? Me! And then we proceeded to pick me up, not once but twice, when we were on the deck outside. Excuse me Mr. Irishman, but I don’t want to die. Especially falling from a hostel. In Berlin.

As the night wore on, it became more and more difficult to understand just what they were saying. At one point, I just kept smiling and nodding…It’s not like they will remember what happened in the morning anyway. 30 more of them were scheduled to arrive the next day, but sadly we had to catch our train to Munich. I can just imagine what 40 Irish boys running amok in Berlin would be like.