Berlin
/Integrating the time that I had spent in Germany, it was somewhat of a black spot on my record that I had not been to Berlin. I would say that it is not all that surprising, given my interests are in the outdoors and not generally in cities, but Berlin is cool. So cool in fact, that all the Bohemian people that I knew - and going to a fancy private school meant I knew plenty of them with much disposable income - had lived there at one point or another and said how it was the "most ah-mazing place". Floating my boat is more the city's importance as the a capital, especially during the Kingdom of Prussia. But perhaps the most persuasive element was that leaving Germany without ever having visited the capital, especially as most other people that visit Germany make Berlin stop number one, would be setting myself up for many fruitless conversations in the future. So with no expectations, I would head north for the weekend and hang out with the cool kids.
Getting to Berlin by train is notoriously slow, and coming from Mainz was no different with the ride clocking in at about 5 hours and no matter how I sliced it, I was going to be arriving late. I had found a pretty sweet deal for accommodation, staying at I would regard as the very swish relexa hotel Stuttgarter Hof, but this was some 3 km away from Berlin HBF. I was going to walk, but it was late and there was a bus (the BVG M41) which stopped nearby. I am always a bit nervous about busses, especially when you are not confident in the language of the bus driver and announcer. This fear is largely unfounded in the era of GPS, but the idea of the bus deciding to change direction or miss a stop makes me find alternatives - ideally on a track - more often than not. But on this occasion, it was all good: I got to the hotel, checked in and collapsed exhausted.
Greatest hits tour
Perhaps my favourite thing, no, definitely my favourite thing about staying in hotels is breakfast. It is bitterly disappointing if you pay extra and it is a bad breakfast (my mind jumps to our accommodation in Mulhouse), but it is glorious when an included breakfast is excellent, as was the case on this trip. I stocked up for a heavy day of being a tourist, although I did not have any real plan other than to wander the streets and see the sites.
Stop number one was the city gate, Brandenburger Tor, which in the early morning is as quiet as it is iconic. The number of people may have been further reduced by the intermittent but very heavy rain, although from a single data point it is pretty hard to tell. The surrounding area - the Pariser Platz - is beautifully decorated although somewhat devoid of life due to the large number of bureaucratic services housed in the buildings. Perhaps one of the most striking locations in the city is located just to the south, the Denkmal für die ermordeten Juden Europas, or memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. The site has had (and continues to have) its share of controversies, with criticisms ranging from the lack of recognition of other persecuted peoples by the Nazi regime to the perceived disrespect of the site by people "playing" at site, be it climbing on the tombstone-like structures, or catching pokémon with pokémon go. One thing that is clear: the site is both imposing and moving, and I felt uncomfortable by people having a grand-old time with selfie sticks and the like in a manner near-identical to that I felt at Ground Zero in New York city. I am not sure where I land on the debate of whether that is disrespectful or not - I have not really reflected on the topic - but it is clear that it does illicit a reaction, which usually indicates that it is fertile ground for asking questions!
My ambling took me in the general direction of the cathedral, but before that I came out at Bebelplatz, a square flanked by the Alte Bibliothek and presumably the related monument Denkmal zur Erinnerung an die Bücherverbrennung or the Memorial for the Nazi book burnings. The area has the essence of a grand European city, and unsurprisingly is home to institutions of culture and society, such as the Opera and Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin, which just by pure coincidence, I happen to be reading a biography of the university's namesake, Humboldt (The Invention of Nature by Andrew Wulf). Both of the Humboldt brothers were influential figures, but Alexander was a true naturalist and philosopher and as a society we would do well to rediscover his musings.
As is typical for Germany, they wear the WWI- and WWII-era history on their sleeve, with the monuments everywhere you look, including the moving Zentrale Gedenkstätte für die Opfer von Krieg und Gewaltherrschaft (Central Memorial for the Victims of War and Tyranny) which houses the Mutter mit totem Sohn (mother with her dead son). As this area is near the river, the city feels open and despite the heavy history, it is done in such a real and genuine manner the it somehow feels, even positive? It is odd to describe, but a very interesting experience.
Crossing the river, one is in the heart of Berlin, the Spreeinsel. The Spreeinsel is an island of the Spree, in a fashion very reminiscent of the Île de la Cité in Paris, albeit not quite as nice. As usual, the Berliner Dom is located in prime position and it is a truly imposing building. Its Neo-Renaissance style dates to the turn of the 20th century, although a religious building has occupied the site since mid-15th century, with about five other large scale structures having been constructed over the years. Access to the cathedral requires a ticket, but this includes access to the walkways around the dome and roof. I found that to be somewhat underwhelming; however the interior is exquisitely delicate, in only the way a restored baroque/neoclassical can be. Admission was absolutely worth the rather token price.
Wandering the city, from almost all locations the Berliner Fernsehturm sits, looming in the background in the east. The structure is probably the most recognisable building of the town's skyline and is just over the Eastern bank of the Spree. The tower itself is a piece of television broadcasting infrastructure, but also plays host to a viewing platform and restaurant. Arguably its main purpose is reminding people of the time of the GDR. Despite having spent almost the entirety of my time in Berlin in the former territory of the GDR, it was really only in the area around the Berliner Fernsehturm that felt like East Germany. There are relics of a time before the division, for example, the impressive Neptunbrunnen fountain which sits directly in front of the tower and the town hall, Rotes Rathaus, which sits on the south east of the square. The area was undergoing construction and the pipes which were routed throughout the area made things seem grungy and industrial in that way which is a cliché but still cool. Further wanderings in landed me in the area around the Nikolaikirche, which was absolutely delightful, as it somehow felt like I had been transported to a small, isolated country town in the middle of the city.
The rain was abating, but everything still felt dreary; however my next destination was going to add some colour and personality to my day. Perhaps the most well-known thing about Berlin, other than it being the capital of Berlin, is the wall that separated east and west Germany from 1961 until 1989. It is not my intention to provide a summary of the wall's history or context, only to share a photo taken by commander of the International Space Station Chris Hadfield which showed the still, very evident divide between east and west Berlin as seen from orbit. The difference arises from the lighting used in both regions, with the east having installed mostly sodium-vapour lamps whereas the west installed mainly mercury-vapour lamps, with the former glowing yellow and the latter glowing blue. Today, few sections of the wall remain, with those that do serving purely cultural purposes. One of the longest sections servers as an open air street art gallery known as the East Side Gallery which serves as a bit of a magnet of local and international artists to do public work which will be seen by huge numbers of tourists. As the art scene in Berlin is healthy, the gallery seems to be well tended and a pretty vibrant place, albeit with the issues that come with being a major destination. Despite being a relatively short walk along the riverfront, I was able to spend a lot of time looking at many older murals and watch a whole bunch of new ones going up. This was all hunger-inducing work, but luckily on the southern end of the park is Pirates, which may or may not be affiliated with the little stand next door but I was able to procure one of Berlin's local delicacies and one of my favourite German meals: Currywurst. Delicious.
Berlin from orbit
Up until this point, I had been touristing pretty hard and it was starting to take a toll on me: I just did not feel all that well. In a rare event, I granted myself a pause, albeit mixed with taking photos of trains passing over the iconic Oberbaumbrücke. The area, well rather, the area of the Spree is full of monuments near the bridge, including the fairly eye-catching Molecule Man, although perhaps not in the way that the artist intended.
Crossing the Oberbaumbrücke back onto the western bank landed me on Falckensteinstraße and what was clearly a happening area. My metric for assessing this was based on the number of pretty out there individuals cruising around and the general state of dilapidation of the buildings, with street art making up for any lost structural integrity. It was a nice enough place to wander, but I really was beginning to tire, but I really wasn't sure where best to rest. Berlin is known as a city of many cool bars and pubs, so the idea of finding somewhere for a drink was not unappealing; however the city is also well-known for its cool bars and pubs, and I am not cool so I had no idea where they were. Indeed, rather than going out of centre where the cool stuff is likely to be, I took the train from Schlesisches Tor to Französische Straße, popping up at The Gendarmenmarkt which is home to the Berlin concert hall and a bunch of churches. The square and buildings are stunningly pretty, but definitely not the place where cool people hang out. Moreover, in a very standard European problem, I found myself desperate for a toilet with none in sight, nor was I able to get access into any nearby buildings. For a country that really has its act together, it really drops the ball when it comes to toilets. But with a frantic search I ended up in Galeries Lafayette, which I found somewhat humorous given that whenever I was in the area during my time in Paris, I would make explicit detours to use the toilets in Galeries Lafayette Haussmann.
With my enthusiasm for further sightseeing effectively annihilated, I decided to hunt out somewhere for dinner. I had read that the area around Hackescher Markt was lively so headed in that direction. On my wanderings I came across a rather striking building, the Deutsches Historisches Museum, but more specifically the Ausstellungshalle, which despite its modern appearance did not look completely out of place. I also passed what could only be described as a parade of couples in wedding outfits having their photos taken in front of the cathedral, but I suppose this is now standard fare.
Once again I was forced to deal with my being hip by arriving at the Hackescher Markt far too early for anything to be happening, so aimlessly wandered the streets and came across a really neat courtyard complex (the Hackesche Höfe) which was definitely cool, but the whole area was saturated with clothing shops, moreover fashion labels, which is really not my bag. Seeing many of the industrial buildings converted into modern outlets was interesting, but the wares were definitely not interesting.
I reluctantly ended up at what can only be described as a quintessentially touristy German restaurant, Barist, but it had a terrace, beer and importantly, salad. After a pretty average dinner, I was content to head back to my hotel, especially as the sun had set so I could give myself permission to sleep. On my way back into town I passed the Kilkenny Irish Pub which did more than enough to make me not want another drink. As fate would have it, my visit to Berlin coincided with the Festival of lights, an extravaganza of light installations around the city, akin the La fête des lumières of Lyon. The end result of this was that I spent much more time than I had expected wandering around many of the sights I had seen during the day, but only now they were lit up in mostly spectacular fashion. They were largely static projections, but the still did a great job of making you appreciate the buildings in a different light. Despite being deathly tired, I managed to hold out for a few hours, largely fuelled by podcasts (in this case, a series of RISK! episodes) and the desire for dessert. I had all but given up on the latter as I left what I thought were the installations, thinking they were confined to the fancy bit of town, but near my accommodation the Kollhoff-Tower was also lit up, meaning the nearby Balzac Coffee had extended hours which granted me a late-evening muffin before bed.
History repeats
Given my unexplained general lethargy, I gave myself a bit of a lie in - which as anyone that knows me is extremely out of character - and a relaxed breakfast. This would turn out to be a disastrous combination, as when a delicious breakfast is available and I have nowhere to be, I can consume more than my fair share of food. Indeed, my first weekend in Germany as a tourist saw me eat so much that I vomited multiple times when visiting the Dokumentationszentrum Reichsparteitagsgelände in Nürnberg, punctuated by vomiting whilst hiding in a hedge from mothers walking their young children, vomiting whilst hiding amongst stinging and then becoming dehydrated from all of the vomiting. Needless to say, this was a pretty serious own goal. But I was young and foolish, I would not make that mistake again.
I had determined that Sunday was going to be the day to visit museums. Given my starting location, I began visiting Checkpoint Charlie and the museum just next to it Mauermuseum – Haus am Checkpoint Charlie. The museum had some interesting titbits, but laid out incredibly illogically. I was not super invested in the museum, and the other museum patrons, all of whom were American had more than enough enthusiasm to cover for me. However, it was upon leaving the museum that is dawned on me that I might have had a little much to eat a breakfast; the stomach cramps were starting.
The main attraction I wanted to see was the Pergamonmuseum to the north of the cathedral on the Museumsinsel (the museum island). The main reason for wanting to visit was the reconstructions of the Ishtar Gate and Pergamon Altar, with bonus points for a fragment from the Epic of Gilgamesh. It is well-known as one of the great collections of middle-eastern antiquities outside of the middle east and I could barely face going inside. I was wandering the many beautiful courtyards of the island's museum complex, sweating profusely in the way only someone consistently suppressing their gag reflex whilst dealing with continuous salivation as their mouth is patiently awaiting the arrival of their stomach contents. This is all to say that it was not a fun time, but it what can be considered a triumph: I was not sick. The cost? Feeling absolutely terrible for the rest of the day. I did manage to visit the Pergamonmuseum, but lasted only 90 or so minutes before pulling the plug, not only on my museum visit but also my Berlin visit. I felt overwhelmingly ill that upon leaving the museum, I made my way to main station and got the first train back to Mainz. I had only to wait about 30 minutes of a train and then deal with 5h30 train ride back, but I just needed to get home. I am sure that there is a story of self control in here somewhere, but I am just a bit too thick to see it.