Berlin, 25th October, 2013
– I’m hungry.
– Me too.
This dialog always comes at the wrong time. Maybe it’s Murphy’s law, but when we travel, we usually get hungry when we are far from any signal of restaurant. Or around half past three, when they are all closing for the break between lunch and dinner – I don’t have lunch at midday in my real life, let alone on a trip.
Anyway, we were in a random street with an unpronounceable name, apparently quite far from the tourist area, I guess, my sense of direction – which never works very well – worked poorly in Berlin. We decided to walk along the banks of the Spree river and try to find something before Dani turned into a beast because of his hunger.
We spotted a bar in the corner. Throughout the big windows, a yellowish light scaped, making a contrast with the deep dark blue sky at the end of the day. It was the Staendige Vertretung. Unpronounceable. We came in.
It was a large, high-ceilinged hall, with shared tables and walls filled with flags and framed pictures. Some were old posters, others, black and white photos of people I didn’t know. The waiters passed by with trays full of glasses of beer that tinkled in harmony with the cheerful bustle of the Germans. The conversations, that seemed to have only consonants, and the pattern of white skin-blond hair-pink cheeks left us no doubt that they were Germans. Spot on! When the place has more locals than tourists, it’s usually a good sign.
One of the busy waiters stood in front of us and said something. We glanced at each other with wide eyes.
– Sorry, we don’t speak German.
He kindly switched to English and showed us a table. We greeted our neighbors, took off our coats, beanies, and scarves, and started to explore the menu. Noticing that everyone was drinking a liquid from a small glass, we became curious. The couple next to us soon started a chit-chat, they explained that the drink in the glass was beer, the specialty of the place. Beer! That’s why we are in Germany. Two of them, please!
The beers arrived. Prost! We toasted in German because that is the first thing you learn while chatting in a bar, of course! We took a sip, looked at each other, and looked at the couple. They had that air as if saying: “It’s good, isn’t it?! Isn’t it?!” We praised the beer.
– Jeez! I hated this beer. – Dani said, right after they were gone.
I agreed, but liked the glass. We ordered the food and a different beer – now we’re talking!
New neighbors arrived at the table next to us, a group of six persons. One of them asked if we could move to the next chair so they could seat altogether. Sure, no worries.
A few minutes later, a new glass pops up in front of us, the one of the weird beer. We looked puzzled, we were about to call the waiter to explain that it must have been a mistake, we haven’t ordered that, but, by that time, the frenzied waiter had already served three other tables.
– Prost!
We turned our heads to look. A hand was raising an alike glass towards us. It is a thank-you for the favor, explained the pink-cheeked neighbor.
We drank the beer again. The glass became a souvenir from a trip where we discovered that the Germans, that sound so harsh in their language of unpronounceable words, are kinder and nicer than we have imagined.
How good it is to travel around breaking down prejudices!
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