Much welcome distraction these last few days as a visit from my delightful hobo has kept me both awake and in good stock of adventures. To see Berlin through someone who grew up here, who has memories of places I am just discovering and has memories of their histories. And oh such a delight, is well-read in philosophy, Hanna Arendt, Theodore Adorno… mmm… since when did whispering lines from Wittgenstein in a scruffy queer bar become so fun?
We decided for a day trip somewhere west or south-ish, and settled on part of Grunewald forest while sitting on the S-Bahn in the direction of Potsdam. And so to disembark at Nikolassee and wander generally north-east along the shore of Schlachtensee, trees beginning their fiery winter demise, the water cold but not, after two days of autumn sun, impossible to swim naked in. And to the tied-off end of this lake, past the café that was once a small shed and now is a conveyor-belt and to find from memory the van selling cheap coffee and sausages, so we sat beside Schlachtensee near the grass banks where the fights or maybe riots from people who wanted to swim nude first took place, and eating thick, heavy bread with smoked mozzarella and butter.
More northerly now until this lake also choked off into reed beds and wetlands, along a dim, moist path following the stream until arriving at Grunwaldsee, which horribly was populated with hoardes of dogs off their leashes and owners possessing no self-control nor that over their feral pets. Lucky we both share a disdain for such things, and instead wandered away, into the forest having maybe a sense of direction that would get us home.
And to find a café in Grimmstr with a leather sofa out front, and a menu composed to the sheet music of old songs. Tea and Crêpes.