Berlin 7 - mein hostess with the mostest

Someone say time for ouzo?? A quick word first about the B&B, the aptly-named Berliner Bed & Breakfast in the leafy Schoneberg neighbourhood.

Walking to the B&B in the hot sunshine of early May, it felt as warm as an English summer. The streets of Schoneberg are lined with a seemingly never-ending assortment of cafes, bars, delis and restaurants on the ground level of apartment blocks. It was all extremely pleasant, prosperous and bustling with many places catching our eye as potential places to eat and drink during our visit.

The B&B is on the ground floor of a fine old block, but no-one was in when we knocked at our agreed time. We went next door for a curry lunch, which was a bit watery and came with soup to start instead of the usual poppadums, but it was cheap and filling plus bided the time until 'mein hostess' arrived. At last a woman arrived with her shopping in tow, nearly dragging a decrepit dog along the pavement which must have been the reason for her tardiness.

She took us into the lounge/diner to show us the fridge, kettle, stocks of tea, etc. She didn't know all the words in English so it was like a language lesson for her. Our room at the end of the hall must have been a family suite because it had FIVE beds and two wardrobes, plus an enormous table surrounded by mismatched chairs. Posters of Marilyn Monroe and Breakfast at Tiffanies assured us this was indeed the Hollywood suite.

On the way back out the owner arrived to greet us. He gave us a map, indicating 'this is the circle in which you move' (meaning the main underground lines - I think) and sent us on our way.

For the evening's meal we decided on Ousies Taverna, a piece of Greece transported to the German suburbs. Despite being on the ground floor of an apartment building, the interior felt like an authentic Greek establishment right down to the dusty bottles of wine lining the walls. They must have imported their chef from Greece too because it was the finest Greek meal we've had, even better than the best island tavernas.

The only slight problem is that the secret is out and every table was full or reserved for the evening. We were granted the use of a tiny table right in front of the door as long as we didn't linger.

To start, we were given a huge bowl of olives, each the size of an egg and dressed only in oil with maybe a drop of vinegar. Even the green ones were divine. A salad soon followed, called dakos: stale chunks of crusty wholewheat bread left to soften in ripe tomatoes, garnished with dill and olive oil (a recipe that has since become one of our favourites at home).

More crusty bread and heavenly olive oil was on the table for us, which we washed down with ample amounts of beer. For mains I had a simple bowl of cubed roasted pork in thyme with lemon drizzled over, while Christian had a huge platter of skewered meat, sausage and roast veg like courgette, potato and aubergine with a side of refreshing tzatziki.

Right when I thought it couldn't be even more authentic, our host presented us with two complimentary shots of ouzo (I downed both). All this for only €35, so I gave our host a hearty 'efkaristo' when we left after our allotted hour.

We walked off our meal for a spell, just soaking up the atmosphere of the busy boulevard of shops and eateries on a balmy spring evening. On a whim we went down a side street and pitched up at a random pavement cafe where we sat under a string of fairy lights and sank a couple more pints of a dark wheat beer by the local Schneider & Sons. Drink up, because tomorrow it's time for a proper look around the Stalinist relics of East Berlin!