Imagine a city of around 2 million people with no one on the silent streets. No cars or buses, no flowers, no stores open (although there are enticing displays in the windows), no sidewalk cafes… Well, all right, one cafe with three tables way-y-y-y down the street, populated with a handful of silent coffee drinkers.
Now, fast-forward to a city of close to 4 million people. The streets are still uniquely quiet, with a background of murmured conversations and soft shared laughter. However, there are people everywhere: lounging on the benches or on the grass in the parks, clustered at the cafes stretched along all the major streets and many of the minor ones, groups following like ducklings behind a well-versed guide. In spite of the leisurely pace of most, the vibrancy of a living breathing city is palpable.
Welcome to Berlin, Germany.
Those first images are from 1971. The Berlin Wall, erected in 1961, was still “protecting” the Easterners from the vicissitudes of the West. It totally surrounded the city of west Berlin. All 96 miles of it. That’s the distance from the Wisconsin state line south to Joliet, Illinois. The view was pretty bleak. We were traveling from East Germany into Berlin, and crossed into the West at Checkpoint Charlie. Almost two hours on the Russian side, while they took our passports and luggage to examine in another room, culminated in the warning to stay on the sidewalk, as the areas on each side were mined and studded with barbwire, to say nothing of the watchtower, the dogs, and the Kalashnikovs.
But enough of that.
Now, Berlin is none of those things, Gott sei Dank’!, as the Germans say. Now, when we pulled into the main train station, we were surrounded with the hustle and bustle of a city on the go. We piled into taxis and were shepherded efficiently (Germans do everything efficiently!) to an apartment that would hold all of us in comfort. A kitchen! Four bedrooms! Two bathrooms! And a vast living space glassed in along one wall, with a substantial balcony for relaxing. And for doing Tai-Chi for me in the morning.
Many of Berlin’s sectors are designed with courtyards. So, from the street, what looks like a gap between buildings to allow cars in, opens out into a deep courtyard, sometimes centered with grass, sometimes with cobblestones. People living cheek-by-jowl don’t feel crowded or pressed too closely. The outdoors, with sky, birds, bats at night, is right there off their balconies. Lovely. We were in the area known as Mitte (middle), which, as the name says, put us smack dab in the middle of the city.
I got chills when I walked through the Brandenburger Tor, which was in the Death Zone before the wall came down. Nobody could get close. Now, it’s a pedestrian area packed with a young man blowing gigantic bubbles here, and umbrella-wielding tour guides shepherding people hither and yon over there, bracketed by the US embassy on one side and the French embassy on the other. Water bottles and sweaty tourists prevailed in the sprawling square in between. A veritable United Nations of languages too.
We took a river tour on the Spree, and our guide was, I swear, at least 50% Muppet. He walked and bobbed around, sprinkling jokes in between his explanations of what we were seeing. The Cathedral was open, and someone was practicing the organ. You’ve never experienced a church, especially some of those old European grand dames with domes spread like 19th century skirts sheltering the incredible interiors, unless you’re there when someone is hidden way up there, doodling away on the keys. Wow! To walk in on Bach booming out into the nave is a visceral experience!
A two-hour tour on foot focused on the Third Reich, and the Cold War. Walking history! Monuments, memorials, the site of Hitler’s underground bunker (now a nondescript parking lot; a fitting end), parts of the 1961 wall, and, finally, Checkpoint Charlie. If the replica of the kiosk from the border crossing were not there, the area would be perfectly ordinary. For me, seeing that little hut positioned in the middle of the street had me superimposing the street as seen in 1971 over the street as it exists today. Huge buildings with lots of glass and modern designs now take the place of the no man’s land that was the crossing earlier. Totally unrecognizable. And beautiful. A tribute to the possibility of humanity to erase the ugly and resurrect the good. The loud Palestinian organized protest, with the expected counter-group of Jewish supporters, with a heavy, but quiet, police presence, was a reminder that openness and tolerance were back in place. As well they should be.
Speaking of openness, the new federal government building, the Bundestag, more commonly known as the Reichstag, has a beautiful glass dome. We were able to climb up inside, which gave us breathtaking views of Berlin. But the best part was the cone of glass mirrors that focus sunlight down, down, down into the room where parliament meets. Visitors can see the politicians at work way down there. See, but not get close to without a special permit. Anyway, it’s designed specifically to highlight the transparency in the government, in contrast to the Hitler era. Certainly a stunning symbol.
The best part? We were with family. Six adults and all three grandchildren. So much to see! So much to share! Half the fun for my husband and me was watching everyone else absorb the city, the history, the shopping, the food, the sheer excitement of everyone around us, locals and visitors alike. The Berliners were hospitable, tolerating my German and speaking English to those in our party who knew little German.
The cafes, especially the smaller ones off the beaten path, were never in a hurry to move us along. We sat, we ate, we drank, we laughed, and then we settled back and started the cycle all over again. All this along quiet, tree-lined streets with lots of bicycles, walkers, cars going to and fro. For such a large city, Berlin is surprisingly quiet, even the tourist filled squares and buildings. No driver lays on the horn, no cars spew roars like caged lions (except for one Maserati…), no one yells at someone in the way. A busy place surely, but with a place with manners.
After sharing an apartment with the entire family, I hated to leave. We moved smoothly around each other, with no complaints about bathroom use or food disappearing from the refrigerator. Every morning, we seemed to come together in good time, after slow-motion dances of everyone making their own breakfasts, and shuttling in and out of bedrooms, bathrooms, and balcony.
Ten days together without a single important disagreement. What more could I ask?
Consider getting out of your armchair and heading for Berlin. It’s one of my favorite cities in the whole wide world. It could be yours too!
