You are so nice with all your visual treats.
And though I struggled to walk around you with my post-half-marathon legs, you kept me on my feet, providing a constant supply of busy surfaces, yellow trains, manic shop windows and blocky architecture to gawp at.
I went on an "alternative" tour of your streets and their art. I learnt, from our nice guide Trish, how your western part inspired your eastern part with its roof-top messages that could be seen from beyond from the wall and how, once your wall had fallen, young artists flowed outwards from your now overpriced Mitte to your once squat-ridden Friedrichshain and Kreuzberg. And I saw how they cover every spare inch of your public concrete, bins and traffic lights with beautiful ugly things. I discovered that this is because, as your mayor once said, you're "arm, aber sexy". Poor but sexy. So you can't afford to laser your edgy tats off. But I think that's fine. I can't imagine you without them.
I ate delicious giant pizza on your Falckensteinstraße, drank G&T in your dark depths a long walk from my airbnb, got up to go to the start line as your other guests partied on into the morning, ascended your TV tower for red carpet and prosecco and ran sweatily along your banana-skin infested roads.
Thank you for having me, Berlin. I hope to wander around in you again soon.