Berlin Summer Sunshine

There it was. A sunny summer Sunday. Finally.

After all the hauling, unpacking, thinking, and organizing, we let it all go and started working on our “this-is-fun-so-let’s-do-it” list. Enjoying life.

First stop: Mauerpark.

I knew this place was a magnet—for everyone and anyone, but especially for tourists. But I’d never seen the park this crowded before. I’ve been there before—several times, in fact—but back then there was usually just a single blanket with a sunbather on it.

On Sundays, this green space turns into a playground with a flea market and an open-air karaoke bar. Whereas in the past, this was simply a vacant lot between Prenzlauer Berg (East) and Wedding (West)—crisscrossed by a wall and of no particular interest to anyone. Actually, even now it bears little resemblance to a traditional park. It’s more of a thoroughfare between two different neighborhoods.

With a flea market that’s impossible to navigate. At least—not if you’re out and about with a 4-year-old and a baby. And yet: there are wonderful things for sale; because of the crowds, I only made it as far as the third booth, but I still managed to snag a gorgeous Kleinod (=little treasure) from the Unikatkantine.

You also hear every language in the world there. You can crash at Café Mauersegler (also open in winter) or sink into a beach chair at Café Schönwetter.

You’ll need Bargeld, though. Cash. In your pocket. Because using a debit card—that’s anything but common in Berlin. In many cafés, you can still only pay with coins and paper money; your debit card isn’t worth much there. And if you want to withdraw cash—unfortunately, there aren’t many ATMs. And there are a lot of people who need one. So it takes a while before you can get your money.

But the sun made up for everything today. And the robot that runs on compressed air. Assembled by an ingenious little man who’s been bringing it to life with a remote control for years. A spectacle for adults and children alike—and it’s well worth spending a little extra change on.

Oderberger Strasse is just a short walk away and is now a paradise for tourists who want to drink Milchkaffee and eat Waffeln in picturesque little cafes. A few years ago, I was still walking here among the gray houses—with bullet holes. Now, classic buildings restored in shades of pink and light yellow-and-white shine here; beautiful, but history is hard to find. You might still catch a glimpse of it in retro furniture stores like VEB Orange, a play on the old state-owned enterprises of the GDR. And here and there, there are still old gray buildings, dilapidated. You have to take a good look at them, because they, too, will disappear.

We eventually continued on by tram—to one of our favorite spots on the banks of the Spree: Monbijou Park. Close to the major museums and near plenty of great shops, so it’s teeming with tourists here, too. But they’re more subdued. Calmer. They keep a low profile. They blend in among the tango dancers who “Tanzbein schwingen” every Sunday at the Strandbar Mitte.

A few years ago, this was actually a beach. With sand between your toes and cocktails. The sand is gone—which I initially thought was a real shame. But the atmosphere has remained. Palm trees, a dance floor, delicious stone-oven pizza, drinks, a large playground just down the way, a public swimming pool for small children, next to it an amphitheater, a basketball court, a soccer field, and a beach volleyball court. Everything within a one-minute walk of each other. The S-Bahn comes and goes over the bridge—there’s really nothing more to add. Ultimate pleasure. You don’t need anything more than this.

We certainly don’t.

And neither do our kids. After taking in so many new experiences, they fell asleep like logs by 8 o’clock.

Why did we move to Berlin again?

For days like this, that’s why. Wonderful.