A German once told me: “They say you can call yourself a Berliner when you have survived seven winters in Berlin.”

So far I have survived three. The first one was the darkest, coldest and snowiest of the three. I just assumed it was always like that, and since the snow was a novelty, it didn’t bother me. But by the time it came to Easter and it was still snowing, I was wishing for spring along with everybody else. Continue reading →