Having been in Berlin for two days in 2002 doesn’t count, really.
Berlin is such a fast-paced changing city that it transforms completely in two years. Try and guess how it might have been changed in more than TEN years.
So, this is kinda like it’s the first time I come and visit the city.
And I have to say: I love the vibe. Clearly, this is something you may have heard over and over again: Berlin is a thriving city, culturally active – and sexually active, maybe even too much – but at the same time full, FULL of history.
So it’s kinda amazing walking through Friedrichshein and its kinda-communist architecture, and then arrive in 15 minutes (more or less) in AlexanderPlatz.
Nine days should be enough to understand how to live this city.
I started slowly, as always, by taking a walk, eating a bratwurst and sleeping a lot. Yeah. Brapidus in town.
“So how are you?”
Coffee-men in San Francisco really know how to make you think about your existence and your attitude in life.
Am I just fine? Just fine?
Ok, let’s admit it: working in the Automotive Publishing Industry, I grew up with a trained eye for cars&scooters culture in every Country I visit.
I think it’s a work-related illness. Really. Somebody should pay for it.
All the same, is it just a San Francisco thing or FIAT and Vespa vehicles are really sold in the USA?
Everybody in Italy is taking that as a myth some marketing man is telling us to say “Hey, our economy is not so bad! We do export!”.
Well, I have to say that all those Fiat 500s suit the franciscan attitude very well.
It’s like this city is the Barcelona of the United States, in some way. All these hipsters and hippies walking down the street, under the sun, with their slim jeans and wide sunglasses, often biking, mostly biking. Always biking.
They should look at these strange little vehicles like Pandas, or other similar endangered species.
And man, the people of San Francisco DO love environmental causes.
But in the end, I’m quite happy of it. It feels like home to watch those autos sprinting through the streets or parked sideways.
And I, too, am a short, little, quite resourceful italian product. So if someone would buy me and import me in the Sates, I wouldn’t bother at all.
So, a quick heads up.
As you could have seen easily, if only you had paid attention to this slowly dying blog lately, The Slow Traveller has a new home. And a new design!
It was a long time since I last updated it, but I still love this pretty travel buddy of mine. YEAH I STILL LOVE YOU BUDDY! COME HERE BUDDY! COME HERE! ATTABOY! So a month ago I decided to move it away from WordPress.com – thanks mates! – and to give it a proper home.
Still you can see there’s a lot of work to do. I really must renovate this building. But things are moving, as I am (I am actually in San Francisco, as you can see by my instagram gallery), so keep in touch.
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By the way, in the end I’ve been able to take on a decent conversation started with a “How are you, sir?”.
It took me just three days. The same day I was leaving the city. Well, it seems I’m really a slow traveller.
NOT TRUE. Slow traveller hate missing a flight. Or at least I hate to miss my flights: it’s already happened two times in my life, and that’s too much.
But shit happens, even to the best ones. Think about a poor street-smart guy – well used to travelling and flying – who checked and checked and checked repeatedly his flight departure hour for days and days, well sure it was at 5.55 PM. And then BOOM!, someone somehow somewhen for some reason counterfeited the paper the street-smart guy had printed himself, changing the departure hour to 4.55 PM.
You can run as fast as you can, but in New York a traffic jam when you’re already late isn’t it ironic?
That’s why I write this post from Amsterdam. Say hello to Amsterdam, boys and girls (and then, on one of the next posts, we’ll talk about how stupid the wifi in the Airport of Amsterdam is.