"My boss built a sauna out back," a barista in Neukolln tells me. On one side of the wall is a bunk bed, with a book swap underneath filled with tattered novels. Another cafe in Schoneberg doubles as a second-hand furniture store.
These eccentricities don't stop at decor. Quinini specialises in excellent coffee and gourmet quininis - toast topped elegantly with such combinations as goat's cheese, pear and balsamic vinegar. The owner serves nothing else.
Berliners show fierce loyalty towards their cafe. Coffee chains are rare. Berliners have their own cafe in the Kiez (the German equivalent of the 'hood) and on a Saturday morning they will join a line that stretches out the door to wait for their favourite barista to make their coffee.
Often when I arrive at a cafe someone has told me I must visit because they make real coffee, I find the hint of Kiwi in the barista's German.
"There's still an astonishment that Kiwis know about coffee," says Jane Nye from Wellington, owner of Antipodes in Prenzlauer Berg, as she makes my cappuccino to perfection.
This Kiwi invasion fits in with the unexpected and mismatch Berlin thrives on. The open attitude of Berliners welcomes the idea Antipodeans are the ones to go to for a great coffee.
Berlin's cafe owners take pride in their quirks and create a welcoming, home-like feel mixed with the vibrancy of the city's streets. Their food is not focus group tested, temperature controlled, cookie-cutter fare, but a unique expression of the owner's individuality. Just don't be surprised to find them in the sauna out back.