I awoke to housekeeping at my door. Joe, Sarah and I met in the lobby. They were heading out for a walk to Alexanderplatz to begin an alternative scene walking tour. I walked with them to the plaza, but realized that I was short of money for the tour. As I was running on very little sleep, I bid them farewell and walked back to the hostel, where I slept until sunset. Back in the lobby, a group began to gather. Joe and Sarah and Helen and Faith were from England, Hans and Braiden were from California. Helen and Faith had plans to go to a jazz club. When Helen extended the offer, the whole crew jumped on board. We had some wine and headed out the door. Upon arriving at the jazz club, we saw the musicians loading out. We missed the preformance. We apologized to the musicians, then turned our focus to finding a bar. We found a small dive bar. It was dim. Black carpet, purple-red accent lights. The bar had red tinsel wrapped around hanging lampshades. I ordered a water, the bar tender said that he was going to ask for payment if I kept ordering water. I gave him a euro. Our group sat and talked. I had some great conversations with Braiden and Sarah about healthcare and pharmaceuticals. I heard fantastic illustrations on viruses and prevention from Braden. The DJ began to play dance music, and our whole group got up and danced. It was a type of miracle. We danced for a few hours then the group decided to find another bar, because Helen saw a woman on the dance floor sucking a man's dick. We checked one other bar before deciding to head back to the hostel instead. I stayed up all night with Tarek, my friend who works the night shift for the hostel the reception desk. He got off work at 7am. He gave me a cappucinno on the house, then we set out for a walk. When we came to his apartment, we parted ways. He pointed me in the direction of the retired airport, which is undergoing an organic conversion into a city park.
Organic, that's the word for Berlin. It is organic beyond any place that I have been.
There were many cyclists and rollerbladers at the retired airport, circling a rough perimeter of the land on what used to be runways. There were community gardens, organically built monuments and structures, even a put put golf course made from old airplane parts. I sat and enjoyed the space. I checked my clock, and realized that I needed to be back in the hostel in an hour to check out and into my new room. I found a train back to the hostel, where I checked out of my room. I had to wait a couple hours before my next room was available, so I ran a couple errands. After returning and getting a room, I set to resting for the following evening.
