Apologies that scarcity of wifi and having a splendid time have kept me away from the blog for a few days.
I've had a lovely weekend in Berlin in the company of Messrs Johns, Carr and Johnson, who have looked after me reet well and helped me discover this wonderful city whilst plying me with alcohol and food, but at the same time attempting to shield me from some of the shenanigans going on in the district of Schoneberg in the name of a gay party weekend called (I think) Felsom. I caught a glimpse on Thursday night, but subsequently have seen more leather, rubber, handlebar moustaches, studs, chains and general gay kinkery in this fair square mile over a weekend than I have witnessed in a lifetime. Even what David referred to as the socks and undies shop 2 doors down from Rick's is a purveyor of garments which can presumably only be donned with the assistance of a lot of baby powder and were probably deeply uncomfortable (not to say unhygienic) when the temperature hit the mid-20s this weekend. Absolutely hilarious - it was like being in Castro in SF again but multiplied a thousand times - a fun eye-opener for a middle-aged straight old fake blonde like me.
On Friday - despite David and I feeling the after-effects of way too many Ap spritzers - we set out with Steve for a day of sightseeing, starting with the excellent Bauhaus museum on the edge of the Tiergarten and on the way to the Siegerssaule (also known as Golden Elsie - a magnificent gold statue on top of a column - sadly didn't quite have enough time to climb to the top this time).
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| The cyclist did attempt to duck, bless him |
We then wandered past the Brandenburg gate and along Under den Linden, and after an alcohol-free lunch headed up to the Nordbahnhof, which during the time of the Wall was one of the ghost stations under constant surveillance by the East guards because West trains passed through it - though East Berliners didn't see them. A number of people attempted to escape to the West via the tunnels, and some succeeded, including a railway employee who managed to get his whole family out.
Nearby there's a poignant memorial to those who tried and failed to get over the wall (what's especially sad is the two who attempted to escape just months before it came down in 1989), together with a section of wall and various information points describing the layout and history of the area at the height of east-west tensions
We headed back to Rick's (he'd been working all day) and met up again at Cafe Eckstein that evening before going to a Japanese restaurant for dinner, followed by drinks at the Service Station cafe bar, the motto of which is Auftanke, Erholen, Flirten, Chillen which I think is marvellous (even if they didn't have any Aperol or Kahlua....)
On Saturday David and Steve were set for the Felsom street party, so Rick, who prefers to avoid such gatherings, took me off to see the Olympic stadium for a tour, only to find it was closed to tourists because of a home game for Berlin's football team. They're blue and white like Chelsea but the main difference is they drink publicly and apparently without restraint. It was all quite good-natured at that point, about 2 hours before the game, but I'm not sure I would've felt quite so relaxed closer to kick-off.
Instead we headed off (Rick fortunately has an intricate knowledge of the U and S-bahn systems) for Grunewald to have some lunch (my first and only currywurst - well I've tried it now haven't I...) and en route from the station went to the memorial known as Gleis (platform) 17, which saw regular transportation of Jewish Berliners to the death camps. It's marked by a series of plaques along the edge of the disused platform - moving and sobering. The other chilling thing is that the station is in the midst of an area characterised by huge and beautiful houses - so the well-to-do of Berlin hosted the start of the journey that brought misery and death to thousands upon thousands of their fellow citizens.
We hopped on a bus and ended up at the Tiergarten for a stroll in the sunshine, skirting the edge of the zoo and enjoying an ice cream. Dinner that night was at the Due Immigraten (or something like that!), a bustling neighbourhood Italian, followed by a nightcap at a local cafe.
On Sunday we succeeded in getting our Olympic Stadium tour, which was excellent. I hadn't appreciated that Berlin was supposed to host the games in 1916 but of course by then WW1 put paid to that - and then the IOC would not allow the games to be awarded to a nation that had started a war for at least a decade. Berlin then succeeded in winning the bid to host the games shortly before Hitler came to power - and you know the rest - Jesse Owens and so on. The stadium was intended to resemble the Coloseum in Rome - Adolf scrapped the original design because he wanted something that was bigger and more imposing than any other existing stadium. All interesting stuff, with lots of fascinating sculpture and architecture - well worth a visit.
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| Romanesque splendour with limestone cladding |
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| The roof came in the 1990s |
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| Rick can't quite measure up to these big boys... |
Potsdam next - a strange mix of Eastern block old-world splenour and Communist brutalism. We wandered through the high street and then went up to the gardens to see Frederick the Great's two palaces - quite beautiful, with more statues on the ground and on the roof than I think I've ever seen anywhere - and he even built a romantic ruin for the pleasure and indulgence of his beloved wife Sophia Charlotte.
Sunday was a new walking record but it was a beautiful day, so we still managed to find the energy to meet David and Steve for dinner in a Greek resturant in Wilmersdorf with old friends of theirs, Norbert and Brendt - great fun, and a fitting end to a fabulous weekend - I'm eternally grateful to the West Dulwich posse for their kindness and generousity in playing host.
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