Barcelona to Berlin

---

We started the day at a photo gallery. There were two shows, one was “Women Shooting Women” and the other of photos submitted for a competition in an upcoming festival. There was a huge range in the photos including some incredibly disturbing photos that the gallery owner said were shot in a prison in either Vietnam or Cambodia. Having been to both countries we guessed Cambodia because it is much poorer than Vietnam. The photos showed men, a woman and a child each chained to the walls in prison cells that were horrific. In one shot it showed the prisoner sitting just a couple of feet from a large pile of feces. Everyone of them was skeletal. I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked because there are places where people are stoned to death. Still, it’s hard to come face-to-face with this level of brutality even in a photograph.

We had another beautiful day so after the show, we took a leisurely walk back to the apartment. From there we left of the flight to Berlin. We’re on EasyJet with is a budget airline, like Spirit, with non-reclining seats so they can squeeze more people on the plane. I’ll be thrilled to get out of this seat in half an hour.

Our trip into Berlin was marred by additional travel mess ups. First, the train station is nearly a mile from the airport terminal, so it was a bit of a hike. We made it OK, although it is a pain with luggage, but after we arrived Jack realized that he had left his phone at the tourist information counter. He had to go back for it and while we still caught the next train, he was pretty stressed. Not only that, but we violated the rules and sat in the first-class compartment of the train car. The conductor was not too happy, so we happily relocated to the second-class section of the car. Although both of us were paying attention, or so we thought, we missed the station. By the time we asked the conductor we were 3 stops past where we wanted to be. Coming out of the correct train station, we decided to take a taxi to the location where we needed to pick up a key to the apartment and then to the apartment. The taxi driver was about 60 and was very well traveled having visited both Barcelona and St. Petersburg. As we approached the apartment, he explained that close by was a synagogue and what was once a Jewish community, a ghetto that had been at the edge of the old city hundreds of years ago. We hadn’t said anything about being Jewish, so I surprised and couldn’t figure out if he somehow sensed that we were Jewish or was someone who cared about the history of Jews in Germany. Either way, it was a positive experience.

Our apartment in sandwiched between a gelato shop and a Vietnamese restaurant, so it was easy to take care of dinner.

---