Berlin for The Solo Traveller: a Friday-to-Monday weekend

Walk the two runways of the closed airport, three hundred hectares of sky with kites and the hangar curve behind.

The Bohemian refugees' village of 1737 still inside the city, with a working smithy and a Moravian burial ground.

A neighbourhood restaurant on a quiet lane in Neukölln's Bohemian village, easy to walk into and sit down alone. Take a glass of wine and whatever the menu says today.

Twenty flat kilometres east along the river to Köpenick's old town, then round Berlin's largest lake.

Europe's only hand-rowed public transit line, a BVG ferryman pulling you across the Müggelspree on a day ticket.

Counter seats around an open kitchen, small plates and natural wine, the staff happy to talk to a single diner.

The S7 to Potsdam before the coaches, Frederick's terraced vineyard, and the two-kilometre axis walked to the Neues Palais.

Thirteen log houses of 1826 for a Russian choir gifted to the Prussian king, orchards still kept by their descendants.

A tiny Taiwanese counter off the S-Bahn from Potsdam, beef noodle soup and fried dumplings for one.

Climb the half-demolished anti-aircraft tower at sunrise, the only free high view in the north of the city.

Inside the 1.2-kilometre terminal: the hangars, the ballroom that was never finished, and the roof above the Feld.

Currywurst sold from the same spot since 1930, eaten standing before the S-Bahn to the airport.