b:includable TRAVEL DIARIES NO.1 | Creme de la Chic: TRAVEL DIARIES NO.1



Long time, no talk! Blogging hiatus may as well be my nickname (sounds kinda cool when you say it out loud..kind of). So why have I semi-abandoned my blog and ignored my lonesome Publish button? In the words of James Franco in a bikini-clad, drug-infested rebellious teen flick "Spring Break forever". 

So I decided to be oh-so clever and divide up my posts vis–à–vis the different destinations I've hit! That way I won't be cramming in a chock-full of random ramblings and nonsense photos in one post--well, at least not as many. What was my first spring break destination? BERLIN!

Berlin Wall, Checkpoint Charlie, Memorial to the Murdered Jews, Brandenburg Gate, Sachsenhausen Concentration camp...the list goes on. The entire 3-day trip was equal parts heart-breaking and uplifting. Arriving at our club-like hostel (thanks, Baxpax) and feasting on authentic German food á la spatzel with 2 strings of schnitzel was heavenly. It was probably the most authentic german food we had other than the currywurst I inhaled while waiting in line for none other than MORE food. Don't judge me. It was the infamous Curry 36 as recommended by Buzzfeed and the line was for Mustafa's kebaps. If you're a native Berlin, then you'll definitely know how crazy long these lines are. Do you ever get those moments when you're waiting for something and 3.5 hours later you realize you moved? Yup, that was my delightfully sensational experience my last night in Berlin while experiencing mild versions of frostbite. (there was a band that set up behind me which consisted of an acoustic Ed Sheeran-esque guitarist who actually sang "I'm cold and I'm hungry". Not even joking)

Oh, but the wait was definitely worth it. Case in point: this mouthwatering, intense up-close shot of my kebap after taking a taxi back to the hostel. Oops, forgot to mention this. Not only was I the definition of "hangry" I was also even more determined for these heavenly halal kebaps because I.got.fined.40.euros. Yes. I was that tourist that got caught by the honor-code system for not buying a bus ticket. The irony is that I got fined and checked at the Checkpoint Charlie stop. Let's just say that I tried my best to haggle the two overly-obese guards (who I could've easily outrun, easy..which crossed my mind at one point). I pulled out the "I don't speak German" and "Listen, I go to New York University so if you're trying to get more money out of me, good luck". Now, I'm stuck with a lovely souvenir that is covered in foreign german words. Let's pray that I'll "laugh" about this in the near future. 

Another tip= go to Tresor club unless you're one of the 1,000,0000 that get's miraculously chosen to get into the Berghain club. I met my dancing soulmate while foolishly swaying to techno music. If you know me, you know I don't discriminate against music--except for death metal, rap, and techno...oh and skrillex (I'm peachy with my Kelly Clarkson and Britney Spears).

The sour note of my trip? The insanely ignorant imbeciles at the metro stop. So we had to head back to our hostel because it was 3 am and there was no way we'd be going AWOL on the Sachsenhausen tour hung over. Still feeling exhilarated from the energy of the club, we were chatting it up when a motley group of natives blatantly mocked us and told us to "shhh". I understand that I look typically Chinese to most foreigners despite my Korean roots, but it doesn't disregard the negative and ignorant criticisms that get imposed onto me like another nameless stereotype. One thing I noticed more than ever before throughout my first time in Europe is my ethnicity. It fazes me of the lack of knowledge some have but that's a whole other story. So naturally being a stubborn Scorpio, I decided to voice my opinions and did some unlady-like bantering thanks to the liquid courage I had left in my body (if you catch my drift). Granted I shouldn't have been overly obscene, something I took away the next day at the concentration camp from our 6.5/10 tour guide (inside joke) was that "In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."

Luckily, to the rescue were 2 New Zealeanders who were drunker than freshman college students from the Midwest. In all seriousness, they full-on bellowed "WE'RE GETTING OFF FRIED-CHICKEN-STRABE, RIGHT?". Here's the thing, it's not Fried-chicken-strabe. Not even close. It's Friedrichstraße. We spontaneously bonded with them on the train back over a conversation of sheep-shagging game and how his friend's a Huag a.k.a. a hybrid of a hobbit and a smaug. You really can't make this stuff up. 

Next on my Travel Diaries is *drum roll please* ATHENS!
Auf Wiedersehen! 

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