The Louisiana Kid

At around 2pm on September 30, I arrived in Berlin Hautbanhof. Fortunately I have become quite skilled at reading foreign metro maps, unfortunately the Germans were doing construction on the line I was supposed to take. So I grabbed a metro that took me to the center of Berlin. When I emerged from the station, the bright color combination of pink and orange immediately caught my eye. There, in downtown Berlin, was a Dunkin Donuts. Before I could even think about where or how far away my hostel was, my feet headed for the DDs. I ordered my small french vanilla iced with cream and sugar. It tasted heavenly. Now, you may judge this story. Camille, you should be eating food and drink of the culture. I say, I am celebrating one month of backpacking through Europe. So whatever!

I began to wander in the direction of my hostel and caught a bus part of the way. I arrived at 60 Torstrasse and encountered a graffitti covered door. Oh no I thought. I have had such good luck with hostels and now I have to stay in a run down shack with Genna. She is one a of my best friends at college but isn't such a fan of dirty places or large amounts of people. Hostels can often fit into one, two or both of those categories, but I had managed to avoid the former thus far. I asked the lady in the shop next door, and she assured me that door was right. After climbing about 1000 steps , I arrived at hostel Aloha.

Fortunately, it was brightly decorated and pretty cute. Showers were clean and I wanted to lie in the bed right away and take a nap. Instead I grabbed a free map and headed out to see a section of the Berlin Wall. This part of the wall had required the Russians to tear down an old church and completely separate a neighborhood. Yeah, they never got over Leningrad and whole seizure of the city. I know way too much about WWII history thanks to Mr. Kirkcaldy and my mom.



The wall evoked more emotions from me than I thought it would. It was so sad. There are informational plaques everywhere describing what life was like and what this part of the wall did. It's like Germany wants to remind everyone... Don't go down this path again.

After this I bought some peanut butter and a baguette and headed for Alexanderplatz. This is big open market area with Berlin's version of a Macy's on speed. The thing is five stories high and is literally what would happen if Target, Best Buy, Staples and Macys had a baby together . I wondered around simply because I was looking for a jacket. I did find one in a store called the New Yorker, don't worry all European brands. It got cold!

That night, I changed and headed downstairs to a restaurant around the corner from my hostel called The Lousiana Kid. Yeah, I don't like German food so I found something that resembled the states. The chicken jumbalya that followed was absolutely amazing. I made friends with Maria and Onur who were the bartenders/waitstaff for the evening. Maria was from Macedonia and Onur was from Turkey, yet somehow they spoke perfect English and German. Not fair.

Later while we were chatting, an older German guy came in and ordered a whiskey. He was pretty annoying, and once he figured out I was an American he kept saying all we do is start wars. No offense, pal, but you are in Berlin, GERMANY right now. And while I may have been born in 1990 and not 1939, I still happen to know that you guys kind of messed things up for yourselves and most of the rest of Europe. When Maria, Onur and their friend Sasha decided he was over the limit, they out the rest of his drink in a coffee cup and sent him out the door. I guess they do things a bit differently in Berlin. We saw him get dragged out of the next bar by the police and I headed home. Didn't see the American causing any trouble now did we? Just eating a lot of good southern food.