Oopsy. 20:59 is not 22:59

I’m in the impressive Berlin Hofbahn Haus. It’s 5:30 in the morning. I’ll let you figure out the back story.

FECK. I wish I could chalk it up to drinking something more than apfel schorly (apple juice and sprudel… sparking wasser). I wish I could say it was because I was confused by the 24 hour clock… I wish I could say that I got hit by a Ubahn. Nien. 2 things came into play.

1. 1 day, too many events.

2. I really am a knucklehead.

Hopefully I leave for Munich in 45 minutens.

In closing I would like to thank my pal Joe Wray for letting me sleep on his air mattress. He also made me a piece of toast at 4:20 in the morning. I’m going to marry him.

Tapas en Midde


The downward economic spiral has created a new Spanish dispora. And luckily for me a few of the chicos have landed in Berlin are working behind the bar at Yo Soy, a pretty much in the pocket “Spanish bar”  in Berlin.

This is joint that has things like estofado, lentejas and sepia. You know you are fighting the good fight if you are serving sepia… I hate sepia. Germans and sepia? Come on… They even a one of those ubiquitous weird refrigerated countertop glass display cabinet thingies.

Sitting at the counter having a chupito is just like home… Even smells like home… Pescaditos fritos, pimientos del padrón… Even a little sour beer.

Oye tío… Mucho tiempo, no?

Yo Soy

Ask for Juanjo or Paco.