Well, look at me.

The cold is now alarming. I am having difficulty sensing that there is snot on my face at this point, which makes for a wonderful entrance into bars and restaurants. It isn’t snowing or anything, but when the wind is WHIPPING in your FACE, what can you DO besides wear a ski mask? Amanda Knox ruined those for all Americans outside of the country. Looking for a cap to wear. I won’t do scarves. Please ask around.

Despite the rain and sleet, I have managed to continue to do things of some significance. Yesterday, I decided it was a good idea to walk to Checkpoint Charlie. As I always like to do before a trip like this, I plotted my route on a map, and judging by the fact that it was less than 2 thumbs distance away, figured it wouldn’t take me longer than maybe 45 minutes. It was raining fairly hard at this point, but who doesn’t love a little walk in the rain? You ever even seen Shawshank? It cleanses.

I think part of me wanted to avoid the railways. I checked Google News as I was leaving, and sure enough, “Police Thwart Berlin Railway Arson Attempt (1 Day Old)” was only preceded by “Bomb Squad Investigating Suspicious Package On Tracks In East Berlin.” A quick check of the sun and the direction of the wind revealed that, yes, I was in East Berlin. BOOSH. Left Wing Activist Group claiming RESPONSIBILITY LIKE ADULTS! Not sure why, or for what reason. I’m just here for the sandwiches.

So I hoofed it (ugh), and that took about 1.5 hours. I didn’t get lost. I saw some cool stuff along the way, also. Like this thought-provoking piece of artwork from one of Berlin’s finest up and coming artists:

And that was the wrong one. Whoops. I meant this:

I saw some stuff by this guy in the street art exhibit at the LA MOMA, and man, he is awesome. This picture doesn’t really do the texture and detail justice, but if one of you guys decides to visit, we’ll check it out and do a YouTube testimonial.

The act of writing that last paragraph should net me a fine of a million dollars.

Made it down to Checkpoint Charlie. I remember coming here as a kid and thinking it was bigger and scarier, but it’s flanked by a McDonalds, for godssake. Still, pretty brutal when you consider everything that this little box meant to people.

I was going to go to the Topography Of Terror, which is a museum on the leveled site of the former headquarters of the Gestapo that also features a sizable length of the Wall. But, after knowing FOR SURE what direction it was only several minutes earlier, walked in the wrong direction, and stepped in a puddle about the size of Chris Christie. So, needless to say, it was large, worthless, and had two first names.

Today, I took an hour train out to Potsdam, which is a nice little suburb outside of Berlin. I would go so far as to call it the Santa Rosa of Berlin, in that, it’s nice and all, but not a lot of palpable buzz. Large parks, tons of history, charming streets, picturesque lakes, and calm rivers define the area, so I guess in a sense, it’s not like Santa Rosa at all. Apologies to Charles Schulz and Luther Burbank. Park Sansoucci was where I ended up. It was home/summer home to a bunch of the Kaisers. Boy, did those dudes love themselves.

Please, come with me on a visual tour through Potsdam.

I decided to take a photo of myself in front of one of the Kaiser’s many buildings, and in lieu of asking someone via hand gestures to take a picture of me, I set it on timer and ran away.

There was a group of maybe 20 German college-aged kids right next to the spot where this photo was taken. They were taking a group photo, and for some reason, I thought it would be hilarious if I was in the photo with them. I quickly thought better of it after taking zero steps and thinking about it for 1 second longer, but still, it could’ve been funny.

I kept walking, taking in the SIGHTS. It was a somewhat nice afternoon—no rain, somewhat overcast, and a slight breeze, but nice enough to appreciate a large, beautiful park.

Some other highlights. That’s a windmill, folks.

The stairs where the Nutty Professor: Europe was shot.

Overall, a pretty wonderful outing, but walking on cobblestones may prove to be an issue. It starts to hurt after stepping on bunch of slightly crooked ones, and now I’m walking like a 75-year old.

BREAKING: I have taken an Advil to make my feet feel better. Shoot me on the infield and turn me into a movie starring Tobey Maguire, because this horse is done.

Frequent readers of the blog may notice I am wearing new sunglasses. Much has been made about the size of my head and width of my fat face in the papers and on television, and despite stumping an Argentinian sunglasses guru who previously had a 100% success rate, I think I may have found a pair that don’t look completely terrible. If you disagree, please bite your tongue, because I need to shade my eyes somehow.

A few Germans saw me laughing at this last night. I’m sure they didn’t get it and I’m sure they probably told the front desk about it. I’ll leave you with Hillary Cage.

Good morning.