I love traditional Berlin pub names. They always begin with zu, like you’re taking a mental leap to somewhere: zum Nussbaum (to the nut tree), zur Glühlampe (to the lightbulb), zur fetten Ecke (to the … fat corner).
Their names make it sound like you’re being transported to a very special place, just by stepping over the threshold into a smokey, candle-lit grotto.
Getting to the hidden beer garden, Zur Laube, is not like that. You literally have to go down the garden path to get there. It isn’t even on a proper street.

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