In Kreuzberg is a red car painted like a cow and, nearby, a GATOR CROSSING road sign. Vines growing all over the side of a building remind me of my ongoing battle with body hair.
In the Thai restaurant Manuel takes me to the toilets number two, one labeled SEXYLADY below a super-femme silhouette, the other with LADYBOY beneath an intersex symbol. The menu features German-language Thai food puns, which Manuel explains but not so well that they stick for the permanent record.
It’s much harder to get by without cash here in Germany than in Denmark and so I am limited to the few places that take cards until I take myself to a place that will convert the magnets on mine into euro-in-hand.
I actually think someone told me on my way to the winter trip, Scandinavia is mostly cashless, and then someone else said something—in I think the last day—about Germany being part of Scandinavia, which can…not be correct.
Can it? Let this currency business be my ass-backward proof to the contrary.