More Than History: Why Berlin Still Captivates
October 3rd, 2025
I arrived in Berlin (Bear, not Burr) nearly 22 years to the day after I was last there. That was more fortuitous, however. The luck of the draw, if you will.
The first time I arrived, I was a 21-year-old, bright-eyed college student on a semester abroad down in Bavaria. For me, at least back then, Berlin was an exotic and distant place, resonating with the consequences of a recent past. That stemmed from the vivid memory of watching as East and West Berliners knocked down the wall that had divided the city for twenty-seven years.
I’m sure there’s some sort of lesson or moral to the story I should glean from the fact that my time between visits was almost as long as the wall stood. Or the fact that parts of the wall are still up, left as a remembrance or memorial for what these types of things do to people. I passed by one of those memorials, now intricately woven into the city’s tapestry, while in a tram on my way to watch Liverpool play. At the same time, a young father practiced English vocabulary with his four red-headed children.
There are reports that the city is once again divided. A rise in far-right political groups has threatened the coexistence Berliners have built since the wall came down–and likely before that, too. That would be a damn shame. Berlin, both times, was a city I felt at home in almost instantaneously. At home in ways I never have found except maybe in DC or NYC. But even then, there was a level of comfort and familiarity that neither DC nor NYC could offer.
You see, despite being diverse cities, they were still reminders that I would never be entirely a part of the American franchise. Whereas in Berlin, it always felt like the possibility of being me was achievable. It was this mishmash of colors, fashion, age, and interests. Everything rubbing up against everything else, leaving a little something behind in the process. And while that certainly means tensions exist, no one seemed bothered by it, because it also meant that folks became better and richer because of it.
Berlin had a palpable grittiness, born from the collision of diverse lives. It wasn’t some kind of run-down industrial town, a monoculture in its finest hour, relying on the hopes of a return to a bygone era that never really existed. No, it was the visual clash of women in hijabs and hipsters with multiple piercings, the beer garden tables filled with patrons drinking half-liter Berliner Helles or Pilsner next to doner or shawarma shops. It was families pushing strollers competing respectfully with bikers and skateboarders for space. It was forward-leaning, with devil-may-care attitudes towards living, all while giving space for everyone else to grow, too. While it may be true that inefficiencies exist and leave gaps for people or services to fall through, the city seemed and felt happy and jovial. It didn’t feel exhausted or overburdened with whatever life brings.
I was in Berlin to catch a show by a comedian I follow on social media. His humor, like the city itself, was a blend of cultures and perspectives, which complemented the city’s open-minded spirit. Before the show, I caught the Liverpool match at Tante Kathe near the Mauern Park. It’s Berlin’s equivalent to DC’s now-defunct Lucky Bar (whatever they’ve done with the new version doesn’t count), but bigger, and perhaps with a better setup—three large rooms instead of two, featuring multiple TVs for various fan groups. And the bar staff was just as friendly and accommodating. Then I checked into my hotel, hit a doner kebab stand, and walked to the show.
It was a quick trip—less than 24 hours. This may render my observations of the city inaccurate, and admittedly, I would like to return for a more extended period to see if they are. Even then, I know that whatever conclusions I draw will likely be considered incomplete or, at the very least, not sufficiently nuanced. And that’s okay. Right? That’s the purpose of travel. It’s to force a readjustment of whatever perceptions you have or conclusions you’ve come to about a place you either visited or read about.
What I’ll do here is list some more observations, things I hope to clarify at some point in the future.
The metro system seemed easy and efficient. It mostly was, except for the tram I needed to use to get to my hotel. I ended up taking a different one to the bar and then Ubering most of the time. And I walked from my hotel to the train station.
The doner I had was not as good as I remembered. But I will certainly go back and try more.
The trains. Interestingly, the train system was more efficient on the Polish side of the border. Once we were in Germany, the trains stopped a few times for no apparent reason.
Several places maintained a minimum payment of 10 euros for credit cards. It’s fine: I could always find more things to buy. However, coming from both China and Poland, where this isn’t the case, it was something that stood out.
Folks in the service industry were extraordinarily friendly. None of them seemed jaded or overburdened. They were talkative and helpful.
There was only one bathroom in the entire Berlin Hauptbahnhof. Why?
The city felt extremely walkable, with parks and small spaces for people to gather. There are memorials and historical markers everywhere. There are even lines of cobblestones marking where the walk was.
It was good to get out and use German again. In some ways, it never left; in others, I was still rusty.
It had a vibrancy that I thought I would experience in Beijing, but never quite did. It was alive as opposed to surviving.
I’ve linked some pieces here that may help you better understand the city, its complexities, and the space they both sit in. The first is from
he publishes . In this piece, for Mundial, he covers the mish-mash of cultures in Berlin and how football plays a role in it all. It’s a three-part series. And the other comes from which discusses the issues that have and will continue to plague the train system in Germany.Here’s the thing: I want to go back. And I plan on doing exactly that. I want to spend more time exploring the city, doing it alone and with my family. Because two short trips more than two decades apart aren’t enough, and whatever my observations are today, however lucid they are, I know they’re not layered enough to be definitive. The two articles I shared above make that clear.
Berlin is a city that demands a return. In the nicest way possible, it screams, ‘Come back and discover what you’ve missed.’ And I intend to listen.
What cities do you feel like you could visit again and again? Let me know in the comments.