Berlin, Again
I am in Berlin this week for work.
It is probably the city I have visited more than any other in my adult life. Strangely, it is the first time I have come here because someone put a meeting on my calendar.
I first came to Berlin in August 2017. Almost nine years ago. Sometimes that feels like another lifetime, sometimes it feels like last month.
Berlin has never really been the main character in my life. More like a recurring one. It keeps showing up every few seasons, looking a little different each time.
Back then the city smelled different. I don't know if it actually did, or if memory has a way of adding its own perfume.
Pizza Funghi was five euros. A döner was four. Cash was king. The streets looked tired but never apologized for it. There were buildings that probably needed fixing years ago, but somehow they belonged exactly where they were.
I had a friend who knew Berlin better than Google Maps ever could. The kind of person who always seemed to know where the next warehouse party was, even when there wasn't supposed to be one. We wandered through parts of the city I would never have found on my own. I saw things I've never seen again, in Berlin or anywhere else.
Some cities ask you to visit.
Berlin used to ask you to disappear for a while.
A few years later I started coming here much more often. Too often to feel like a tourist, not often enough to call it home.
Somewhere along the way, the city started speaking more English. Card terminals quietly appeared where cash once ruled. There were more cafés I'd bookmarked than clubs I wanted to visit. The airport finally looked like it might actually open.
The Berlin I knew was growing up.
Or maybe it was simply becoming easier to understand.
The friend who first introduced me to Berlin had moved on by then. So did I.
The people I spent time with now liked cooking dinner together, reading books, sitting in cafés for hours, walking through parks, arguing over which restaurant to try next. None of those things are particularly Berlin. They're just good ways to spend an afternoon.
These days the city reminds me of parts of New York. Still rough around the edges, just with nicer coffee and better insulation.
Some famous clubs have disappeared. New glass buildings seem to appear every time I come back. People from everywhere have made a home here. Some arrived looking for a fresh start. Some came looking for freedom. Some simply came because this is Berlin.
Cities don't stay the same.
I don't think they are supposed to.
Neither do the people who keep returning to them.
These days I am more excited about finding a restaurant I've never tried than a club I have never heard of.
I think that's a fair trade.
But every now and then, I still find myself looking for the scent of the Berlin I first walked into.