This is “my” Berlin. The harsh, windy, slushy, grey city. This is when I love the city the most – when I close myself in a lot and take walks here and there to find some splashes of colours in the surroundings. Berlin in the Summer can be bit too overwhelming sometimes, it’s like never ending fireworks on an overdose. It might have to do with the area I live in, this is where the party tourists come and it’s a lot of desperation in the air – to make the most of the days (well, nights) here. I don’t mind really, I choose to live here (well, now moving isn’t really an option because of the rents) and I live on the border to tourist mayhem, so I can choose to walk the other direction and end up in calm areas when I step out of my building.
January is harsh to most people here, the other day the sun was out and the birds were singing Spring-like songs and this is when people start to feel hopeful about Spring and then comes February BOOM. The shortest month of the year, but it feels like the longest because nature is bullying you into believing Spring will never be here. This is how people often describe it, I have sensed it a couple of times during my eight years here. But what to do except wait and do things that make us feel better. I’m meeting friends for coffee, to hear more about who they are and what they dream about. Last night I hung out with my dear friend Christina eating Vietnamese and talking for hours in an almost empty restaurant. Walking home together, directing young French girls to places to party, going inside from the rain putting myself under the duvet to continue reading the book I started earlier, a book taking place in both Gothenburg and Berlin. Two cities I love.