Berlin

Flying into Berlin was a blessed relief in more ways than one. It was great to finally be starting my trip proper, but even with the current European heatwave the maximum temperatures were no higher than the minimums in Doha. Although as per normal, Europe appears completely unprepared and shocked at the unsurprising return of another hot and humid weather. Having only ever travelled in Europe in summer, this always provides an endless source of amusement. Every year Europeans express shock and indignation seemingly forgetting that this is a yearly occurrence, while the buildings and transport do their best to replicate a sauna.

I only ended up flying into Berlin due to it being cheaper than further east, but serendipitously it provided the perfect kicking off point for another trip into the east. Metaphorically and physically it is the encapsulation of the border between east and west, which, while a manifestation of the best part of a centuries worth of geopolitical craziness and human misery, provides a character like few other places in the world.

There was a poster in my hostel that read ‘Berlin is the bitch you marry’, which is one of the better descriptions I have read. 10 years ago when I was last here it took me a while to ‘get it’. It’s like the anti-German city - sprawling, grungy, gritty, perplexing and disordered, it takes some getting your head around. Getting around is also unnecessarily confusing, Berlin’s streets follow no logic to speak of and it’s public transport system, while efficient and excellent, is disconnected and confused hodgepodge of post reunification attempts to integrate a variety of disparate rail, tram and metro lines, each one having multiple different gauges and running over and on top of each other. However, once you start getting your bearings the charms are hard to ignore.

With 23 boroughs, each unique, you could spend months in Berlin without scratching the surface. I stayed in Prenzlauer Berg, once the epicentre of working class East Berlin and bohemian resistance and, since reunification, becoming one of the most hipster parts of town. It was also a good base to strike out into the broader city, either on foot or via bus, s-Bahn, u-Bahn or tram, all of which were widely utilised over the course of my stay.

My first morning was devoted to the Cold War, tracking down vestiges of the wall, including the excellent east side gallery, where one of the largest section of remaining wall has been turned into an outdoor gallery of some of the best street artists in the world. The DDR museum, which had opened since my last visit and was a fantastic and remarkably balanced representation of life in the DDR. Having now travelled through so many ex-soviet states, I have a much better understanding of the greyness (in multiple senses of the phrase) and uniqueness of each state’s experience under communism. It’s easy to miss, but each state’s story was it’s own, with there own strengths and weaknesses, and having a slightly different take and approach to achieving the ultimate socialist ideal. All ultimately doomed due to the inherent weaknesses in the centralised socialist economic and social model.

East Germany’s story was no different, in many ways it was incredibly socially progressive, even by modern standards, with equal women rights enshrined in its constitution and extensive maternity leave and child care and over represented in professional fields, all of which was lost as soon as the wall came down. Even today, women from the previous DDR have a far lower income gap compared to men, have higher employment rates and have higher rates in senior managerial positions (including one Angela Merkel), just one of the many fascinating learnings from reunification, one of the biggest social experiments in history. Unfortunately it was also a total police state, civil liberties were severely constrained and while wages were good, there was little to buy, encapsulated by the up to 16 year wait for the epitome of socialist consumerism, the Trabant.

Shifting gears, the afternoon was spent being, once again, amazed and reassured at the German’s unique willingness to confront the crimes of their fathers. The Jewish memorial outside the Reigstag being a case in point. I can’t think of anywhere else in the world you can find a memorial to a countries national shame, taking up some of its most expensive real estate, and where the locals will take pains to verbally and loudly rebuke insensitive foreigners who climb on the concrete blocks to get the perfect instagram photo. Close by, at the site of Hitler’s bunker I watched as a far right sympathiser laid a bunch of flowers at the modest plaque, only to be publicly dressed down and the flowers to be immediately picked up and thrown in the closest bin. The Topography of Terrors is another new museum built on the site of the Gestapo headquarters, which was as excellent as it was depressing, and full of school groups as the society passes down to another generation the lessons learnt.

It is so normal, that it’s hard to realise how abnormal it is. It’s impossible to imagine Britain remodelling Trafalgar Square as a memorial to colonialisation, the US to replace the Washington Monument with a memorial to slavery or Australia to repurpose the War Memorial to a memorial to indigenous genocide. Those ideas are almost laughable, but Germany has done just that and more, and for doing so they have my deep abiding respect.

I didn’t spend a lot of time at museums and monuments though, instead focussing on exploring the fabric of the city. From the Turkish and flea markets, laneways filled with hidden bolt holes and street art, grand boulevards and spending an entire afternoon in the Tiergarten, joining the locals in the shade of oak trees and the beer gardens making the most of the perfect weather. The long warm evenings were spent drinking beer in state park, packed with locals having picnics and catching up, or the garden of my hostel, packed with travellers from around the world, before heading out to explore the multitude of local bars.

What I lacked in sleep, I made up for in memories and experiences.Read more