No job. No German. One suitcase. My friend said just go, so I went. That was it.
No job. No German. One suitcase. My friend said just go, so I went. That was it. That was the whole plan.
I never fully left. Six years later I’m still here, and I’ve got opinions. A lot of them.
Student first. Literature, art, language. Days in the library, nights in bars arguing about both, usually louder than I should’ve been.
Then an intern in marketing. That’s where I learned something ugly: most writing about a place isn’t written to be true. It’s written to sound impressive.
Then just a resident. The real kind. Anmeldung appointments that eat your whole afternoon. Heating that dies every February like clockwork. Knowing which Späti actually restocks on Sunday and which one’s bluffing.
I’ve lived in more Berlin apartments than I can count off the top of my head. Different neighborhoods, different versions of the city. None of them looked like a postcard. Good.
Six years writing for real people. Not a content calendar. My other job is copywriting. Getting people to change their mind and do something about it. Six years of that.
Here's what it taught me: nobody changes their mind because you called something "vibrant" or "must-see." They change their mind when you hand them one specific, checkable fact and let them connect the dots themselves.
One specific fact is worth more than a hundred empty adjectives.
Every article contains a genuine point of view backed by experience instead of recycled travel clichés.
Names, dates, neighbourhoods and locations matter. Specific facts always come before vague praise.
If something is overrated, it gets called overrated. If it's worth your time, you'll know exactly why.
Not a listicle stitched together from other listicles. You're getting the Berlin that comes from living in it, badly, some winters, and loving it anyway, some summers.
Start with the piece on what's actually left of the Berlin Wall. Got a Berlin question nobody's given you a straight answer to? Send it. I'll give you the honest one.