Omnia Mutantur

I should say more about Tadschikische Teestube, the russian tea room I had dinner at last Monday.

It’s located in the Unter der Linden area inside the Theater im Palais, a small but opulent theater. The lady I’m renting the place from had recommended it, as did the Rough Guide to Berlin. I spent some time walking around the area, unable to find an entrance – it’s neither on Dorotheenstrasse nor on Unter den Liden, but on a little side street that’s not evident on the guide’s maps (but is on Google Maps, Which Know All).

Once you come in, you’re greeted by the luxurious theater lobby.

On the second floor to the right you’ll see a clump of coats and shoes. That’s the teahouse.

Why shoes? Well, the inside is covered in rugs, so you can sit on the floor and eat from very low tables if you wish. All rug tables were taken when I arrived, so I sat myself in a regular table to admire the warm environment and oriental rugs draped on the walls.

They have many types of tea, including pushkin with vodka. Having been walking for 8 hours (literally) in the freezing cold, I decided that some whisky was necessary and ordered Irish tea.

Even if you calibrate for the fact that that the time merely hot water would have been great, it was delicious – the tea was just soft enough, but still blended perfectly with the whisky.

I got in trouble when ordering food, however – the menu was only in russian and german, the russian owner didn’t speak any English, and this was my first time having Russian food. Fortunately a very nice Peruvian fellow who is in germany studying Mechanical Engineering was working there part time, and he gave me some suggestions. I ended up having some russian borschtsch (the traditional one, with beetroot) for entree:

And Pelmeni for the main course.

This is sort of a lamb-filled ravioli, and reminded me of a dish that Mehmet prepares at Aya Sofya. The taste of the Pelmeni was very interesting – a strong taste for the meat, with a very light, refreshing flavor for the pasta. The salad, all too often merely something to fill the plate, was a perfect complement – the carrots were unexpectedly sweet, and a very good contrast to the somewhat acidic greens.

At this point I was stuffed, even after having walked all day, but I had to try the desserts. I told them to surprise me, and this arrived.

The bill calls it bliny preiselbeeren, and preiselbeeren means lingonberries. The photographs do not do it justice. It was once again a very contrasting dish – the acidic berries at the center are on top of sweet cold whipped cream, which is itself on top of some sort of warm tortilla. This by itself would have been enough, but the dish is perfectly rounded up by the very fresh fruits on the outside, such bananas, strawberries and kiwi.

The final bill was 6.8 euro for the tea, 3.2 euro for the Borsch, 7.5 for the Pelmeni and 5.4 for the bliny preiselbeeren – not pocket change, but not exactly expensive either. For those keeping score at home, it’s a total of 22.9 euros, or about 16,000 colones – around what you would pay at an upscale place like Saga for a 3-course meal, and that’s before you factor in the Irish tea, that it includes a high 19% VAT, and that you keep hearing how expensive good food is in Europe (more on that topic later).

In short, loved it, and I’m looking forward to repeat the experience, even if it does mean that it’ll spoil me for other places (and that eventually I’ll have to head back out into the cold).

Ricardo Restaurants and bars, Travel Berlin, food, tea

Here’ s a tip for waking up early: put the heating on a timer, and make it drop 10 degrees half hour before you want to wake up. You’ll be out of bed like clockwork.

Ricardo Travel

Berlin is littered with memorials, particularly for the jews murdered during the Holocaust. Everywhere you look there’s a plaque, or a statue, or entire areas covered in mock tombs. There’s even talk of making independent memorials for other groups, such as the gypsies.

None I’ve seen have so effectively conveyed the message as these small copper pebbles, embedded in the road outside the houses where those deported and exterminated used to live. They list their birth year, where they were sent to, and when they died.

Ricardo Travel Berlin, History, memorial, Travel

Meh, the right foot still smarts a bit when I stretch. That’s what I get for not being made out of rubber.

Ricardo Health yoga

Before I forget, a word on getting here.

I traveled through Panamá and Holland, since I won’t fly through the United States and “enjoy” their security theater. I expected to be asked about the reasons of my trip on arrival to Germany, as they do everywhere, but did not expect Panamá to give me grief.

KLM guy from Panamá: “Hello sir, where are you traveling to?”
Me: “Germany”
KLM: “Right sir, your passport, please.”
Me: (Switching to spanish) “Con gusto.”

Two things happened the moment he saw I was costarrican – the body language changed a bit, and the sir went out of his vocabulary. He continued (in Spanish):

KLM: “What’s the reason of your journey?”
Me: “Tourism”
KLM: “Where are you staying?”
Me: “An apartment I rented.”
KLM: (Eyeing me suspiciously) “Who owns this apartment?”
Me: “Well, I can tell you the name of the person I’m renting it from, I don’t know if she’s the owner or she’s renting it herself.”
KLM: (Suspicious growing) “And how did you find this place, then?”
Me: “Online agency”

At this point the guy gave me a very odd look, like I had told him the apartment’s coordinates had been beamed directly into my brain by a space alien who piloted his ship over my house, and he got a bit more confrontational.

KLM: “So, do you have any proof you’re renting this apartment?”
Me: “What? No. I have the address, and a map.” (Pause, annoyed). “It’s freezing there, it’s not like I’m going to sleep on the street.”

So he asks how much cash I’m carrying. I tell him how many dollars (not too many), and that I plan to withdraw Euros when I get there, since the exchange rate in Costa Rica would be really bad. He asks to see the money. He then demands to see a credit card. I show him one, tell him I don’t intend to use it to withdraw cash, and can show him my debit cards if he wishes.

At this point the people behind me are getting annoyed at the wait too, so he just takes my passport, scans it, notices that – against all odds – I’m not some Known Evil Terrorist Mastermind, Drug Trafficker or Wanted War Criminal traveling under his own name, and lets me go.

You can imagine I expected something similar when arriving to the European Union. The extent of the checks in Amsterdam were:

Dutch customs officer: “Hello sir, how are you?”
Me: “Fine, thanks”
Dutch customs officer: “What’s the reason of your visit?”
Me: “Tourism, coming to see the Berlin film festival”
Dutch customs officer: “What type of festival again, sir?”
Me: “The Berlin film festival.”
Dutch customs officer: “Oh. How long will you be staying?”

I tell him when I’m flying back. He looks at my passport.

Dutch customs officer: “And where will you be staying, sir?”
Me: “I rented an apartment online.”
Dutch customs officer: “I see. First time in Europe?”
Me: “No, just in Germany.”

He stamps my passport and wishes me a good trip.

So, fine, these were just the Dutch. They’re probably pretty laid back, and Germany will be where they’ll go all Panamá on me. But guess what? That had been my entry in to the European Union. The single check in Berlin was a dog who sniffed everyone’s luggage, probably to make sure we hadn’t brought any pot from Amsterdam.

Seems the Panamanians are more interested in keeping me out of Europe than the Europeans.

Updated to remove Copa references, it was actually a KLM employee.

Ricardo Travel

xkcd on how to cheaply decrypt something.

Ricardo Random funny stuff comic, crypto

I know I said I’d shut up about the cold, but…

After my very long walk yesterday I had the toenails on my pinkies annoy me a bit, like they feel when they’ve grown too large and I’ve got to trim them. Today when I’m going to shower, I see some residual dry blood in the toenail.

I’ll spare you the pictures, but turns out the pinky’s toenails split vertically from the cold, probably since the pinkies were the ones closer to the outside of the boot. Nevermind that I was wearing very thick socks and hiking boots that were just fine in winter when navigating the very cold, very windy ruins at Curtea de Arges.

Vero kept talking about felt-stuffed boots and other things I had dismissed until now. This place makes Romania look like a summer home in Guanacaste.

Ricardo Travel Berlin, cold, Romania

Did I mention it’s cold here?

Yeah, I know, it’s winter. I’ll shut up about it. These are for Vero, who finds freezing weather charming.

Ricardo Travel Berlin, snow

My next door neighbor is Irish. There’s an Australian married to a German living downstairs. An italian couple stopped me on the street and asked me for directions, right after I came out from having dönner at a Turkish place. Two dutch took my photo at fragment of the Berlin Wall, and a japanese woman did the same favor at the Berliner Dom. A Bosnian woman begged for money. Later, at the Reichstag, a couple who may have been dutch as well took another photo of me, right before I walked about 1km to a russian tea house, where a very nice Peruvian guy who is studying Mechanical Engineering translated my order in German to (whom I presume was) the Russian owner.

It was a long and varied day.

Ricardo Travel Berlin, Germany, Travel

I’m moving into the hot water shower and not coming back out until Summer.

Ricardo Travel