After receiving a msg from SAS at the crack of dawn Tuesday that our flight from EWR via Stockholm was rebooked to JFK via Paris, we scrambled to get out roughly 1.5 hours earlier than anticipated 
Traffic was catastrophic once we hit 278 S, but that was to be expected. JFK was where my ex and I landed when I first visited this… interesting country in the late 90s, and I’ve made a vow to never return to this utter shit show of an airport. Guess not all vows last forever 
, but I’ll never bitch about EWR again.
The flight was almost 2 hours shorter than we are accustomed to & I didn’t sleep a wink, yet we were both surprisingly awake when the plane touched down in BER.
A shower & a 3-hour nap later, we hit the nearest beer garden situated in the middle of a park across from our pad to enjoy a gorgeously sunny day.
When our tummees started the rumblees we strolled through our hood for a lil recon on any new culinary (or other) developments:
Our favorite bakery when we were here on sabbatical 20 years ago is still around 
A hugely popular late-night snack place expanded and moved to a corner spot since last year.
Do Germans (of all people) not know what a Munch is? 
The döner place we discovered last summer was our dining destination. Bc what better way to start our Berlin sojourn than with the most iconic street food invented there? ZACKLY.
We split a lovely dürüm döner, which is wrapped in a thin flatbread vs. served in the traditional pita bread — making it resemble a burrito more than a kebab sammich & less messy to eat.
We opted for a meal combo w/pommes and a soft drink that I was able to change to ayran, bc when in Berlin…
The dinner came to 16.50 Euro for both of us (no tip for counter orders, plus we’re not in Kansas anymore, sillies!).
It was the perfect amount of food bc it left room for a scoop of pistachio gelato to share on our walk back to the hotel,
where we also passed a veritable institution in our nabe — a very simple, very left-leaning Italian trattoria / bar devoid of tourists.
“There would be no wars if those responsible had to fight at the front lines.”
We grabbed a bottle of cheap-ass Riesling at one of the many Spätis (short for “Spätkauf,” a Berlin institution / exception for smaller stores to be open beyond regular supermarket business hours) and had maybe half a glass before passing out 
My lucky beeyotch PIC left earlier this morning for a weekend retreat outside of Porto with his weirdos until Sunday. I have no major plans for today, other than eventually picking up the keys for our pad, finding an easy solo dinner, and moving in all our ish tomorrow.
