Summers are spent cycling the runway of what was once Tempelhof Airport and is now an inner-city park, or going swimming in an outdoor bath that could easily be mistaken for a duck pond. (It could be the actual ducks.) These are all signs that in the Hauptstadt appearance is only skin-deep. Berlin will give time of day to anyone.
After all, scruffy cities have the best stories.
I remember a family holiday to Berlin with my father. It was instantly the most interesting place I'd been.
While he wanted to see Checkpoint Charlie and the Wall, I desperately wanted to explore the city myself.
I'd thought the easiest way to lose my dad was to buy tickets to a concert of pink-haired punks: Die Goldenen Zitronen.
I wasn't quite sure who they were, but I knew he wouldn't like them. I think he realised this was the point. So, he insisted on coming too. Stubbornness is a family trait.
The concert was awful. However, music from the aging East German punk band didn't ruin the mood. No-one thought it odd or thought to question why a father and son would spend the evening at a rock show. At least, I assume they knew we were related?
It's a fond memory.
Hab' Kraft, Berlin. You spent 30 years separated from your neighbours. What's four weeks of lockdown?