Drinking in Berlin

Oh, god. What a week. I feel like all of my organs are bowels. As if there’s nothing in me that isn’t made of shit. This works as an emotional metaphor as well as a physical one. In fact, I feel so emotionally derelict I actually got angry the other day. This doesn’t happen very often. Chris had a go at me for being a fat lazy cunt. I had a go at him for being a regular lazy cunt, we hugged, it was all better.

Why do I feel like this? Why have I become this shambling meatpuppet of a human? One word…

Booze.

To be fair, the guilt has lifted somewhat, as I honestly don’t think it’s my fault; there is almost no way to avoid getting repeatedly and destructively drunk in this city. I’ve had three days off the sauce, thanks to a dear friend who’s given me the opportunity to go ‘off pissed’, for want of a better phrase, but still the issue remains. I sat down to a nice meal with her the other day, and without realising it, ordered and drank a beer. Only post fact did I work out what was wrong. This place takes an awful lot of self-control to deal with.

Mmmmm, vulnerable and fun!

I guess it comes from being English. It’s a pretty simple equation, and not one that I’m going to labour, but we’re used to having to cram our drinking into a set amount of hours. We’re also used to a culture that frowns upon ‘going out on a schoolnight’ (a phrase that comes close to being as inane as “only 5 more sleeps until holidays” – sleep is uncountable, you fuckwits.) The end result is that I drink. I drink like an absolute dick.

Anyway, do the maths… we’re used to drinking say, 10 pints in 6 hours (not accounting for spillage, breakage and general twattery). After 6 hours, we go home, sleep it off, and everything works out fine. Ish. Come here, and take the same mentality, and you’ll wind up like me. A night out lasts a helluva lot longer than six hours. In all seriousness, be aware of that if you come to Berlin.

Even if you have a plan, it WILL go wrong.

I am simply saying, briefly and without too much preamble, “Watch yourself.” The drinking culture here is far more, well… cultured, than we’re used to. Take some advice: eat something before you start drinking. Take on plenty of water. If you’re coming from England, bring some milk thistle.

He's much more believable since his gritty reboot.

Overall, though, if you avoid the stag dos and whatnot, you’ll find that a majority of the boozeries are really rather civilised. It seems needless to say, but the range of bars here is pretty staggering, but for the most part they’re chilled and you’ll just look like a dick if you start chanting football noise or leering overtly at the local assortment of tart.

Smoking in Berlin:

Most bars will have some kind of smoking room or rauchzimmer and particularly late on in the evening many places can fill up with smoke pretty quick. Old school!

Bar sports in Berlin:

You’ve got three choices here. Table tennis (tischtennis), table football (Fussbal) or leering at women. If you’re no good at any of those, be prepared to be excluded from much of the evening’s activities. There are a couple of pool halls dotted around, and the real bonus here is that they’re rarely in use, so you can have a reasonably fun night just playing pool somewhere like Feuermelder.

Not to add insult to injury here, but those are incredibly
manly legs. Still. might as well, eh?

Outside drinking in Berlin:

Most bars will have an outside ‘bit’ but rarely will you find a beer garden or anything more than a few green tables set out on the roadside. Try the Eastern Comfort for a change of pace, or Generator for something resembling a beer garden.

Irish bars in Berlin:

There are a couple here, and all are expensive and shit. If you’re after premiership football or some other sporting event that isn’t shown on German TV, try Belushi’s in town or Oscar Wilde’s.

I’ll be posting some individual bar reviews in the future, so hopefully that should give you a better idea.

Anyway, for now, take my advice. Take it easy, and don’t wind up like me: broken and full of shit.

Where To Live in Berlin?

1945 Berlin, just to show you where the wall was.

So knowing where to live in Berlin is fairly important if you ask me. Finding the right area for you is something that will really enhance your stay. When I first started thinking about it, I quite fancied Spandau. While I have been there before, and found the place delightful, I now realise that would have been a massively dick manoeuvre. It’s miles from anywhere, and wouldn’t give you a fair impression of the city. So where is good? Personally, I think I've landed on my feet, as where I live suits me perfectly, but I reluctantly concede that people are different,  so maybe this will help you find the place you're looking for.

Living in Friedrichshain

So I live in Friedrichshain, and I bloody love it. It suits my needs perfectly, and I have what I believe to be the best bar in town just around the corner (Zimt und Zunder). However, it is a little dull. You’re not in the thick of it like you might be with a place like Kreuzberg. It feels very working class, and importantly, quite German. Simon Dach Strasse is the main pub/club/eatery street in the area, but frankly, it’s a bit shit. There are only really a handful of actual bars, and what’s left is just a bunch of cliquey dives and pretty middle-of-the-road restaurants.

By contrast, Friedrichshain has the best park in town. It’s massive, chilled and has a decent running track. If you like the idea of lounging around in the sun watching wannabe circus performers waste their lives, then this is the place for you. If, like me, you enjoy the ambience of activity, but are far too doughy and poorly co-ordinated to actually engage in anything of a sporty nature, you’ll feel very welcome there. With volleyball courts, a fitness centre, climbing walls, and a confusing array of fitness equipment dotted around the place, it suits the kind of exercise nuts that find their way into Berlin.

While it doesn’t annoy me overly much, as it’s hard to get annoyed in such a place, seeing all the already-too-thin German girls running around only exacerbating their condition is frustrating to say the least. While I’m on the subject, it’s worth noting that Fredrichshain girls are not fit. Apart from the barmaid at Zimt und Zunder, but she’s mine, so leave off. 

<< The Berlin Metro map: handmade by retards. Try this for a better view.

Living in Kreuzberg

I know Kreuzberg less well than Friedrichshain, but in all honesty, you don’t need to know it that well. This is the area you’ll find yourself in if you’re one of these. In which case, you fully deserve whatever you get in life. Indeterminate sexual preference? You’re halfway there. Low-cut “male” vest top? You’re all the way. Skinny jeans, plimsolls and a dick hair-do and you’re balls deep in what I can only describe as the sweat-stained armpit of Berlin. It’s the equivalent of walking into a nice eatery and having your meal served to you in the toilet: why you would want to do it, I don’t know, but you’ll see a lot more dicks, that’s for sure.

However, at least you’re in the thick of it, and the quantity and range of bars is second to none. Living there would, to my mind, be a daily annoyance, but that’s because I’m a reactionary anti-popularist.

Living in Prenzlauer Berg

Prenzlauer Berg is a ‘nice’ place. Prams, prams, baby shops, quaint, characterless eateries, and more prams. Fuck that shit. Prenzlauer Berg is ‘nice’ in the same sense that receiving fellatio from a family member is ‘nice’. Unless you have a kid, or desperately want to be near an Apple Store, don’t move here, for god’s sake. This is mostly just an annex of London.

Smack in the centre is a place called Kollwitzplatz, which can go suck my balls. There’s a helluva lot of baby-peacocking here. “Ooooh, look at my baby. She’s just been accepted at the International Banking and Animal Noises University for the Under Fives.” Being forcibly pushed from the street by a snooty mother with a pram that could probably double as an international space station is something that will only ever get my heckles up.

No, I don’t like it. Pretentious and very much indicative of the aspects of this city I dislike, I find it difficult to get the enthusiasm to go there often. I’m sure there’s some lovely spots, but I didn’t come to Berlin to live in Wandsworth.

This map was created by estate agents. Estate agents are all cunts and can die. 

Living in Mitte

The only real exception to the above is Schönhauser Allee, although personally, I prefer to class it as Mitte. Mitte literally means “middle”, and that’s exactly what it is. There are parts of Mitte that suck up tourists like a gigantic laughing hoover, and there are bits that are pleasant enough to spend a day ambling around. The museum quarter is here, as is the main square and the tourist trap.

There’s little reason to head into town on a regular basis, unless you’re the type of twat that buys designer crotch-drop leggings, but will only be happy paying well over the odds, goddammit! In fact, on my little bike ride home the other day, I tried to work out exactly why one would walk into a majority of these shops. It sure as hell wouldn’t be for the clothes, which are about as generic as it gets. Come to Mitte, feel like a tourist. There’s nothing wrong with that from time to time, but I imagine living there would be a little incongruous with the feel of the rest of Berlin.

Sadly for me, I’ve run out of time, and have to get back to my daily grind of mashing out shitty words for shitty people, and generally ruining the Internet for everyone.