Berlin with Lee

03/10/2026

27/09/2026

🐾 TODAY IN HISTORY — SEPTEMBER 27, 1908
On this day in 1908, the first production Ford Model T was completed at the Piquette Avenue Plant in Detroit.
The Model T didn't invent the automobile. What it helped do was make the automobile affordable to ordinary Americans.
And that changed America.
Suddenly, where you lived no longer had to determine where you worked, shopped, went to school or spent your Sunday afternoon. Rural families became less isolated. People could travel farther in search of work and opportunity. Cars helped accelerate the movement of Americans between countryside, towns, suburbs and cities, while roads, gas stations, motels, restaurants and entirely new communities grew up to serve them.
The Model T didn't just change how Americans moved. It helped change where Americans lived and what America looked like.
And despite the famous “any color so long as it is black” line, early Model Ts came in several colors. The black-only era—and Ford's revolutionary moving assembly line—came later.

30/08/2026

BAUHAUS, DESSAU.

Built in 1925–26 by Walter Gropius, this is one of those buildings that looks so familiar today that it’s easy to forget how completely bonkers it was 100 years ago.

The Bauhaus was a German school of art, architecture and design founded by Gropius in Weimar in 1919. Its name roughly means “building house,” and its mission was to bring creative disciplines together: architecture, painting, sculpture, typography, furniture and industrial design. The goal was to create a new kind of modern design—functional, affordable and made for everyday life rather than aristocratic taste.

The Dessau building became the school’s home in 1925–26, and it turned that philosophy into architecture.

Glass curtain walls. Flat roofs. Exposed structure. Almost no decoration. Form follows function—and apparently function had absolutely no time for your fancy cornices.

The Bauhaus brought architecture, art, typography, furniture and industrial design together with one revolutionary idea: good design should belong to modern life, not just rich people.

The N***s hated it. Naturally.

A century later, half the modern world still looks like its descendants.

Not bad for a building in Dessau that basically said: What if we just got rid of all the unnecessary crap?

29/08/2026

KRAFTWERK AT THE BAUHAUS. 🤖⚡️🏛️

There are moments when the venue and the music fit together so perfectly that it almost feels inevitable.

Tonight: Kraftwerk. Live. In the courtyard of the Bauhaus in Dessau.

Kraftwerk are, obviously, the second most important German band of all time.

In Cold War West Germany, a generation of young musicians grew up surrounded by imported American and British rock — while also living in a country carrying the enormous weight of its own recent history. Eventually some of those kids essentially said: we don't want to make second-rate American rock. We need to find our own sound.

What outsiders rather lazily lumped together as “Krautrock” became an extraordinary laboratory: Can, Neu!, Faust, Tangerine Dream, Kraftwerk and others experimenting with electronics, repetition, improvisation and rhythm, creating music that sounded less like the Anglo-American past and more like some strange European future.

But Kraftwerk's influence is almost impossible to overstate. Electronic music, synth-pop, techno, hip-hop, New Wave — enormous chunks of modern popular music have Kraftwerk DNA buried somewhere inside them.

And then there's the Bauhaus: the place that helped teach the 20th century that art, technology, design and modern life didn't have to be separate things.
Which is basically Kraftwerk's entire aesthetic.
Machines. Geometry. Repetition. Technology transformed into art.

Walter Gropius, meet Ralf Hütter.

Seeing Kraftwerk perform here wasn't merely a concert in a cool building. It felt like two enormously influential strands of German modernism meeting each other across a century.

And on the internationally recognized Cool-Ass Sh*t-O-Meter™, which normally only goes to 10:
Solid 12. Possibly 13.

Absolutely spectacular.

26/08/2026

West Berlin’s old-school Imbiss culture is slowly dying, which makes places like Langs Imbiss in Reinickendorf worth protecting — and absolutely worth the schlep.
No artisanal curry ketchup. No €19 “street-food concept.” Just a proper neighborhood Imbiss: enormous Schnitzel, excellent Bratkartoffeln, generous portions, and probably one of my top five Königsberger Klopse in Berlin.
The catch? Königsberger Klopse are only on Wednesdays. Honestly, worth putting in the calendar as a repeating event.
And you’re not coming all the way to Reinickendorf just for lunch. The Storck Werksverkauf is out here too, so you can have your Königsberger Klopse and then wander over and purchase enough factory-direct candy to give yourself Insulin shock
Even if the U6 has collectively s**t itself — again — some places are worth the journey.
Some Berlin institutions have marble columns. Others have standing tables, Coca-Cola refrigerators, and Königsberger Klopse every Wednesday. ❤️

08/08/2026

My Cat in History: August 8, 1974 — Nixon Resigns 🇺🇸🐈‍⬛

On this day in 1974, Richard Nixon went on national television and announced that he would resign as President of the United States.
The Watergate scandal had been consuming his presidency for two years. The investigation of the 1972 break-in at Democratic Party headquarters had gradually uncovered something much larger: political espionage, obstruction of justice, abuse of presidential power, and an attempted cover-up reaching into the White House itself.

Then came the tapes.

Nixon had secretly recorded conversations in the Oval Office, and when the Supreme Court ordered him to surrender the recordings, one became devastating: the so-called “smoking gun” tape, showing that Nixon had participated in efforts to obstruct the FBI investigation only days after the Watergate break-in.

His remaining political support collapsed. Facing almost certain impeachment by the House and likely conviction in the Senate, Nixon chose resignation.

At noon on August 9, he became the first — and so far only — U.S. president to resign from office. Gerald Ford was sworn in shortly afterward.
Watergate mattered far beyond the fate of Richard Nixon. It became one of the defining tests of the American constitutional system: Congress investigated the executive branch, the courts rejected a president's claim of virtually unlimited executive privilege, journalists kept digging, members of Nixon's own party ultimately refused to protect him, and the presidency changed hands peacefully.

Nixon's departure therefore represents something bigger than the downfall of one deeply complicated man. It demonstrated a fundamental principle of constitutional government:
The President of the United States is not above the law.

And on that historic final departure from the White House, Nixon famously raised both hands and flashed his trademark V-sign before boarding the presidential helicopter.

Naturally, Pangur Ban, Luna and Cleo were there.
They remember it somewhat differently.
All hail the cats. 🐈‍⬛🐈🐈‍⬛

23/07/2026

The Birth of a Country That Officially Doesn't Exist
One of the most fascinating places I visited in Transnistria was this memorial dedicated to those who fought in the 1990–1992 war that led to the region's de facto independence from Moldova.
The armored personnel carrier, eternal flame, and memorial bell commemorate the men and women who died during the conflict, particularly in the Battle of Bender, just a few kilometers away. For the people of Transnistria, this isn't simply a war memorial—it marks the birth of their state.
The interesting part is that, despite having its own government, army, police, currency, passports, and border controls for more than three decades, Transnistria is recognized by virtually no UN member state as an independent country. Internationally, it remains part of Moldova, while in practice it functions as a separate state.
Whether you see this monument as a symbol of self-determination, the legacy of the collapse of the Soviet Union, or the enduring consequences of frozen conflicts depends largely on your perspective. But standing here, it's impossible not to appreciate how deeply history—and memory—shape identity.
It's one of those places that reminds you that maps don't always tell the whole story.

22/07/2026

Bender's railway station feels like a place where time simply stopped.
Built during the days of the Russian Empire and expanded through the Soviet period, this was once an important junction linking what is now Moldova, Ukraine, and the wider Soviet Union. Soldiers, merchants, commuters, and families all passed through here. Today, much of that traffic is gone.
The unresolved political status of Transnistria, changing borders, and the collapse of many regional rail connections have left stations like this largely silent. The grand architecture remains, but the crowds have disappeared. Walking through it, you get the strange feeling that the next train should arrive at any moment... even though it probably won't.
For me, places like this are some of the most fascinating reminders that history isn't just found in museums. Sometimes it's hidden in peeling paint, empty platforms, and waiting rooms that no longer have anyone waiting.
Just a random photo dump from one of the most atmospheric railway stations I've visited.
#

20/07/2026

🚆 One of Europe's Last Great Railway Adventures

I went to Moldova just to take the last Soviet train in Europe!

Here's a dump of the experience

If you want to experience a journey that feels like stepping back into another era, take the overnight train from Chișinău, Moldova, to Bucharest, Romania.

This isn't just transportation—it's a living piece of Cold War and Soviet railway history.
Moldova inherited the Soviet Union's broad-gauge railway network (1,520 mm), while Romania uses the European standard gauge (1,435 mm). That means the train literally can't continue across the border without a remarkable engineering trick.

Late at night, at the border crossing, every carriage is rolled into a special shed. The entire carriage is lifted high into the air, the broad-gauge bogies (wheel assemblies) are rolled away, and a new set of standard-gauge bogies is rolled underneath. The carriage is then lowered back onto its new wheels, and the journey continues. If you're awake, it's one of the most memorable railway experiences anywhere in the world.
Even more remarkable, this route is believed to be the last regularly scheduled overnight international train in Europe still operating with classic Soviet-built sleeping carriages. Walking the corridors, hearing the clunk of the heavy compartment doors, and enjoying tea from a glass in a traditional metal podstakannik feels like traveling through the final chapter of a vanished world.

The route itself has a fascinating history. For decades it linked the Soviet Republic of Moldova with neighboring Romania, surviving the collapse of the USSR, changing borders, economic upheaval, and shifting politics. Today it remains an important connection between two countries that share deep historical and cultural ties, while preserving a railway tradition that has disappeared almost everywhere else in Europe.

Some people fly.

Others take the train.

And a lucky few get to experience one of the last great railway adventures left on the continent.

19/07/2026

The abandoned Hotel Național stands in the heart of Chișinău like a monument to Moldova's complicated past.
When it opened in the Soviet era, it was a symbol of confidence and modernity—a place built to welcome visitors to a republic that was expected to have a bright socialist future. Today, its shattered windows and crumbling concrete tell a very different story.
After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Moldova endured economic hardship, political uncertainty, corruption, and the difficult transition to independence. Ownership disputes and failed redevelopment plans left the hotel frozen in time. Instead of becoming a gleaming centerpiece of a growing capital, it became one of Chișinău's most recognizable landmarks precisely because it was abandoned.
In a strange way, the Hotel Național has become a metaphor for Moldova itself: a country caught between East and West, carrying the weight of its Soviet past while searching for its future. The building is decaying, but the city around it isn't. Cafés, parks, universities, and new businesses continue to grow around this silent giant, reflecting a country that is gradually reinventing itself.
Sometimes history isn't preserved in museums. Sometimes it stands, weathered and empty, in the middle of a capital city, reminding everyone that the past is never quite as far away as we'd like to believe.