Der Türkenmarkt

I've been extremely busy sorting everything out here in Berlin: job, house, school, bike, etc. So not much of a post today but I mostly just wanted to share these photos.

Berlin is immense, yet somehow my favorite thing in the whole city is just two blocks away from my friends' house where I'm staying right now: the Turkish Market. I've already been there 3 times in the 10 days since I arrived.

Here is just a round up of some of the very English activities that I have engaged in during my last week in London:

#1. I have been to several pubs, the best of which was The Albany on Great Portland Street. Mike and I were convinced that the place had to be a reputable establishment when we saw a gentleman whose bag read "Milan Hipster Convention 2006" entering the front door.

#2. I have watched a bit of English telly, including such programs as "Master Chef," "Come Dine with Me" (a dinner party competition), and my all-time favorite "Escape to River Cottage" with Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall (this episode was all about strawberries!). Why can't we have quality programs like this in America?

#3. I have pretended that it was summer when the sun finally emerged after a solid week of gloom, although the temperature was still only 60 degrees. The two parks where I have attempted to sunbathe are Parson's Green, where Veronica and I went to recover and read the Guardian after a big night out, and Hyde Park. I have to say that they left me missing Dolores. But two advantages that London parks do have are that drinking in public is legal here, and there is absolutely no risk of sunburn.

#4. I have been to tea at Harrod's. Cucumber sandwiches, check. Scones with clotted cream, check. And also some fantastic rose jam that (quite predictably) I instantly fell in love with. On the way to the tea room you must pass through "Luxury Room I" and "Luxury Room II," after which you make your way up the Egyptian Escalator. Bet you did not know how they got to the tops of those pyramids.

At some point during the tea, either Jana or Veronica mentions baby skinny jeans, of which we then feel compelled to verify the existence. So when we're through we scour the children's section: Burberry, Dior, Armani, Ralph Lauren, etc. We don't exactly find any, but it's quite an enlightening survey of haute couture for the very young.

#5. I have gone to karaoke at an East End pub where some of the regular patrons were not equipped with the requisite number of teeth.

#6. I have eaten fish and chips, beans on toast, curry, meat pie (chicken with bacon and leek, to be exact), and Haribo candy.

#7. I have gone to markets, which is my most favorite thing ever to do in London. Borough, Columbia Flower and Spitalfields Markets.

And here are some very English things that I have not done: I have not used any fake tanning lotion, although the "baked potato" look seems to be very hot right now, or bleached my hair. I swear there are more fake blondes in this town than in LA. Usually these two are sported simultaneously, resulting in an overall appearance that is something like this. I have also not worn a dangerously short skirt, which seems to be a popular English pastime. I actually saw a woman walking down the street who had unwittingly passed beyond the danger zone and entered into the realm of full daylight exposure. Also, perhaps most incredibly, I have consumed neither a late-night kebab not a single pack of crisps.

Most Perfect Cuppa Eva

Londontown in April and barely any sign of Spring.

Should have really packed a few more sweaters.

The rain has gotten the best of me twice already. Do you really understand what people mean when they talk about getting soaked?

We try our best to squeeze out every drop of sunshine from these dreary streets, as we witness the East London fashion brigade that is Brick Lane on a Sunday.

Finally we find our efforts to be futile and head inside.

First to the requisite curry house, where we are faced with somewhat of a disappointing lunch.

Then to Market House Coffee on Brushfield Street, across from the Spitalfields Market.

Earl Grey with milk and sugar. Which I have consumed so many times before, but somehow this time turns out to be magical. I taste mine first. I'm in awe, but thinking maybe it's just me. You know how I can sometimes get like that about tea. So I watch Mikey's face as he tastes his. He agrees.

It also seems familiar in a way. Reminiscent of an indeterminate time. Very delicate and bergamotty.

We ask what brand it is. The waiter isn't sure, but he tells us what shop they buy it from. Which, as it happens, is just around the corner from my old flat. It turns out that this is the very same tea that I used to get there! Hello there my old grey friend. How could I have forgotten about you? Definitely going to stock up before I leave this town.