The train wound through still un-built ruins of WWII into Berlin’s Hauptbanhof, the busiest train station in Europe. I found a kind friend’s flat, dropped my bag and headed straight to the center as I hadn’t much time: two nights and it was already evening. ![]() Where to begin about the ending of this whole wonderful rigamarole? How to reflect 5,000 miles from where I was? Contrivedly, probably, but I will try.įirst there was a whirlwind tour of that gritty, pretty city, Berlin. “Out in the world when your only friend is a traveler’s song/When your time and your money and your best girl are gone.” ![]() ![]() A picture of a picture of a picture of history
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