Our tribulations began on a cool spring afternoon in the Three Little Pigs Hostel. A cosy little place with but one issue... an Absolut (ha ha) deficit of dinner. Emma Kriss, Jeff Zuschlag, and myself decide to brave the mean city streets and satiate our craving. We were hungry, famished even, yet the 5 euros in our respective pockets left very few options to our starving party.
We wandered the inhospitable plains of Potsdamer Platz, but to no avail. The opulent restaurants seemed only to sell cocktails fit for kings and steaks of ambrosia. Though the morsels beckoned to us, the 5 euro notes warned us to ignore their siren call. We fled the wasted plains of Potsdamer for Alexander Platz, hoping to kill a boar...or something. No dice. Apparantly the Berliners arent big fans of wandering hunters in the streets (good to know). Eventually Emma shared a mighty legend, one that might change our fates of inevitable starvation. She had heard as a child of 3 euro pizzas served in the shadow of a church near Shoeneberg. However, to reach such holy ground one must brave wastelands, underground serpents, and other hellish deities.
The road to Alexander platz indeed proved a long and desperate quest. The roads twisted in upon themselves and trolls... I mean germans (cough cough) roamed the streets in packs, waiting to gnaw upon our weary bones. Yet we persevered, humming tunes mocking the communist leaders in an effort to convince ourselves that we were still brave. After several hours, we desperate pilgrims happened upon a mighty tower signaling the gates of Alexander Platz. We cheered in joy, Emma had not led us astray (no doubts at all... right Jeff?). However, one challenge lay between us and sweet relief. The dread worms of Berlin.
As is tradition, every Berliner youth must one day ride these ancient worms as right of passage. We hoped to emulate their example by luring the beasts close with small cards scrawled with an illegible script. With a triumphant roar we hoisted our starved bodies onto the bulk of the grotesque worms (the locals kept staring at us though... I'm not quite sure why). After repeating the procedure 3 times, we finally reached the gates to our promised land. We had finally reached Shoeneberg (I did find it ironic that our destination was named Beautiful Town).
We forded the gold paved streets of our dreams as we pressed onward towards our goal. We slowly began to lose hope as our eyes swept the empty walled houses in vain. Until... yes... DON ANTONIO'S!! 2.50 Euros for EVERY pizza. Our 5 euro bills concurred: sweet nourishment was ours! We would be satiated!
We ate and drank till we could eat and drink no more. Grand toasts were made as the proprietor welcomed us as heroes and champions. We had found our niche in the world and Berlin in the form of a tiny Pizzeria near that one cafe that Carroll recommended.
This place rocked! 5/5! Get some now!