Rube and Mandy gave up their pretensions to belonging for three gloriously touristic hours atop a big boat in the middle of the Spree, passing through the locks into the Landwehrkanal and other byways, and meeting, it must be said, a very different Berlin. They followed up the tour by tracking down but not entering a series of galleries designated as Gallery-Weekend hotspots; in what can retrospectively be construed as an act of resistance, they sat down a block away and ate so much Norwegian food that art was out of the question. At least the restaurant was named for an artist: Munch’s Hus. (And, in a thematically-relevant twist, it was full of mechanical reproductions of Munch’s works.)
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