We find a spot at a small, wobbly table. Both of us are hungry and excited, ready for a feast. Pieces of injera, dipped in spicy sauces, disappear quickly as M. and I talk about work, the latest exhibitions, and the rhythms of everyday life.
For me, Berlin means long, satisfying, unhurried meals, where we sigh with pleasure and lick our fingers.
Sharing food with someone who loves it just as much – priceless.
The streets are far from Instagram-perfect. One has to learn how to navigate the crowd, how to weave smoothly between the people waiting for the bus.
This part of the city has an unobvious, raw beauty, visible only to those willing to find it and accept the present imperfections.
