Hello again, Blogonauts.

Here's a treat. I'm on the train bound for Salzburg. At my seat is an electric outlet where I can power my laptop and finish off my Berlin blogs as the German villages and farmland whiz by. The steward just brought me coffee, which I'm sipping as I type. I feel like a modern-day Christopher Isherwood … except not bisexual … or a smuggler … or dead.

So on to the writing -- From a rather shaky beginning, Berlin grew on me. Some of that affection sprouted from the seemingly mundane bits of life there. Here are a few examples:

The city has perhaps one of the most efficient public transportation systems I have ever encountered. At ground level, they utilize buses and a tram system. These support an interlaced network of slower subway trains (U-bahn) and elevated express trains (S-bahn). Once you become familiar with multi-stage movement, it is really a lovely way to flit about the city. (For an added benefit, they welcome dogs and bicycles onto the trains, so even pooches and pedalers can flit.)

They also sell inexpensive passes that allow you unlimited access to the entire system for days at a time. All you need do is keep it in your pocket. Be it by pass or individual trip ticket, every rider is expected to pay for the service; you can be fined heavily if you are caught sneaking on without a validated pass. But there are no ticket takers, turnstiles, or magnetic card readers. It is based mostly on the honor system.

At the center of it all is a brand new, dynamic, and surprisingly beautiful main train station. Trains of all types (intercity, S-bahn, and U-bahn) run directly through the Hauptbahnhof on three different levels, so you always board or disembark inside the station, surrounded by shops. There are no long walks to your train. I wish North America would embrace this form of travel, but we seem far too "auto-dependent."

Berliners seem to have beach envy. Scattered about town are city-block-sized sandboxes peppered with beach chairs, cabanas, picnic tables, and umbrellas. Each one was served at least a large refreshment stand, and some had waiter-service and full meals. AND THEY WERE ALWAYS BUSY. Some of these lots lay alongside the Spree River, but just as often they sat beside a highway or rail line. Perhaps this phenomenon has arisen elsewhere and escaped my notice, but Berlin has certainly embraced it.

The evening atmosphere in Berlin is convivial. I never heard anyone arguing or fighting, even when the crowds were thick and loud. (The crowds, I said ... not the individuals.) I must admit, however, that I find nothing thrilling about Berlin's specialty cuisine. It all tastes like a Lutheran church supper.

It's not that I haven't eaten well. It's only that I haven't eaten well when I've eaten Berlin-style. There are only so many inches of Currywurst anyone, including me, can swallow. But last night's Tilapia was heavenly.

The EasyHotel, where I stayed, belongs to a British budget accommodation chain. The hotel is brand-spanking new and stands a few blocks north of the Spree in the former East Berlin. The hotel was super-convenient (a half-block from a U-bahn station and walking distance to an S-bahn or to Museum Island), shimmeringly clean (quite a feat, considering everything in the room but the floor was white), and unbelievably cheap (€25 per night, plus €2 for Internet access). Just remember that I liked this place when I say:

It was also in all likelihood the most cramped hotel room I’ve ever experienced.

Now, I've stayed in some small rooms. But their furnishings were rationally selected for the space. The same could not be said for the EasyHotel. The queen-sized bed abutted one side-wall and sat a scant 4 inches away from the other. The bathroom was built into the room, and thus one of its walls stood 6 inches away from the bed. There was no other furniture, and no closet, but there was a single 3-inch wide shelf attached to the wall just inside the door. Quite frankly, I’ve seen wider chair rails. My luggage barely fit beneath the bed.

For stingy single travelers like myself, this was an awesome-but-quirky bargain. But I can't recommend it for couples. They would risk reenacting the famous state-room scene from "A Night at the Opera."

Nonetheless the EasyHotel's staff gained my admiration because they allowed me to check in using nothing but my faulty German. Perhaps they were simply humoring me, but I grab my ego boosts wherever I can.

OK, back to my present train ride: I’ve just caught my first glimpse of the Alps out my window, so I will sign off now so I can gawk at the scenery. It’s time to look forward to Salzburg.