The Berliner Blog

Ok, here we go! Welcome to my blog, The Berliner Blog. I can't say how often this will get updated, but the idea is to replace mass emails with this blog where you can visit every once in a while when you think, "What the hell is Kris Bruun up to these days?" Its just a collection of my thoughts on Berlin, what its like to live in such an interesting city, and I guess a few must-see things in Berlin for anyone who is visiting. Each log will have a little rundown of what's in it so that you can choose whether or not you want to read that entry. So with that in mind, BOOKMARK this page and enjoy…

This Entry:
- Berlin, Part One
- Finding Shelter
- The Coolest Bars I’ve Ever Seen, Part One

Berlin, Part One

Berlin is a strange place. It’s a mix of beauty and ugliness, joy and depression, re-birth and old scars. The memories of history aren’t just in the minds of the people but kept in the framework of the city. It surrounds you, constantly reminds you and sometimes stalks you. I was worried when I came here that it would have changed a lot from three years ago, there was so much construction going on then, cranes everywhere, but they’re still here, still building and re-building. I think I heard some fact that something like 80% of Europe’s cranes are in Berlin, but don’t quote me on that (if you have the right answer, please let me know). I was relieved to see that Berlin had only changed in good ways, and that everything that I loved about it was still here.

I don’t know why I came here entirely. I’ve always wanted to live in Europe, learn some new languages and meet International artists of all kinds, but where? Berlin was more a gut feeling than anything else. For some reason I haven’t been able to get Berlin out of my mind since I left it three years ago. I’ve dreamt about it, thought about it and wondered if it was ever possible to move here, just for a bit. And how long is “a bit”? Who knows, but I’m here.

Finding Shelter

I’ve had a few people call me crazy for coming here, and when things are tough I sometimes agree with them. Its hard packing up your belongings and leaving your friends and family for a place where you have nothing and nobody cares whether you come or go. Moving here wasn’t as easy as I thought. I was in a hostel for two weeks looking for a place to live. I didn’t enjoy myself entirely, for some reason I gave myself a few days to find an apartment and when two days turned into five, then a week, then two weeks I started to stress. It didn’t help either that I woke up at 4:30am my first Saturday night (or Sunday morning I guess) to the drumming sound of a half-naked American pissing on my bag, located a foot away from my head. You gotta love living in a hostel.

In Berlin there is something called a WG (don’t ask me to expand that, my German is still rubbish), its basically an apartment shared by a group of people and every room is used. There usually isn’t a communal space unless you want to pay extra to keep one room open for that and most people don’t. To get into a WG you setup a time for an interview and you sit down with the roommates and chat over coffee, tea or beer – whatever they’re offering. If they like you, they choose you. The problem is some places have sixteen people being interviewed. It was intimidating knowing that there were so many people out there looking at the same WGs, and it was tough when places you loved went to someone else. Sometimes I felt I really got along with the roommates, but then someone else would get the room and I was left feeling like maybe I said something wrong or did something that was a faux pas. It was like being fresh out of theatre school again and I over-analyzed every audition I went to.

It all worked out in the end, it just took a little patience as everyone said it would. I found a cool spot in an area of town that is cheap and not super nice, but right on the subway line. My roommates are German and all very nice, they’ve taken good care of me. One is a designer (of what I’m not sure yet), another is a riding instructor and also performs on horses (horse dancing?), another is a roofer and the guy who’s room I’m taking is going to Manchester for a semester to work on his Masters in Social Anthropology. I am subletting his room starting in September so for now I am living in a small spare room they have that they use for laundry and guests. Its big enough for a bed and some storage, but it beats a hostel. Privacy!! Oh how I missed you! I think I slept eleven hours my first night here.

The Coolest Bars I’ve Ever Seen, Part One

Berlin has the coolest bars I’ve ever seen. I’ll try to keep up with them, but honestly some of them are a blur. It seems as though if you have an idea for a cool bar in Berlin, you just do it and people find it. The best way to find a cool bar here is by word of mouth and that’s how I found “White Trash Fast Food”.

Feist told me about this place. No I’m not that cool, I met her after a concert and asked her about cool spots in Berlin and she said, “Go to the White Trash”, and so I did. It’s a bar perfectly decorated like a 1930s Chinese restaurant, with American “white trash” food and live music. I was there on a Monday, “The Great Country Swindle” night. They had live, old school country music and everyone was done-up in jeans with greased hair and tattoos. The menu had things like “Dirty Fucking Weissen” (a cloudy wheat beer) and “Nachos – Free (unless you’re a cunt, then 10 Euros)”. The drinks were great, the attitude was fun and the décor was brilliant. Apparently on Jazz night (Sundays) people dress a little swankier and you have to roll a dice to see how much cover you pay. They also have a tattoo parlor next door.

“Kiki Blofeld” was a bit hard to find. I was sitting at “Bar 25” on the Spree River (a funky, outdoor bar on the water, with old used furniture, cheap drinks and a swing over the water) and across the way I could see an old boat garage with flashing lights. There were three of us and we decided to check it out. We found a bridge to cross and looked for the place but it was nowhere to be found. We went down an alley, behind some buildings and thought we could hear some music but it was very faint. Then we saw some coloured lights on a path through some trees next to an abandoned building. We found a way to the path (after many wrong turns) and took it through the trees past hammocks, fire pits and outdoor seats until we came to an entrance before some steep concrete stairs. We paid cover and descended into the boat garage.

Anyone who is a fan of James Bond knows that Blofeld was his greatest villain, and the name of this bar suggests its atmosphere. You enter into a garage facing the water with a canal in the middle to park a boat – perfect for a hasty getaway (it was empty that night but you get the impression that from time to time there is a boat parked there). There are chairs, tables and a bar on one side, and the other has a dance floor, a DJ and a comfy red couch/bench running the length of the wall. We were there on Reggae night and they had a screen hanging over the canal playing Bob Marley videos and old Blaxsploitation films like “Foxy Brown” on both sides. If only I had a boat...