(132-134): Andy and Sam go to Berlin

(132) is Tuesday, 18 May 2010.

Here are the photos. I refer to several of them this time around, so you might want to take a look if you don't typically.

Sam and I actually filled the time in Berlin. In fact, I’d say we should have gotten an earlier flight out of Vienna the day before. Oh, well.

We got breakfast at this really good pastry place, but tracking down the exact location again is proving quite difficult. Best I can do is tell you that it's near Weinmeisterstrasse metro.

We then hit the New Museum, which ironically housed ancient Egyptian artifacts (among other cool old stuff). Best part was the building though, which probably explains the name. There’s a big, gorgeous exposed-brick atrium in the middle if you look at my pictures. We also saw some 17th-19th century art in the next door museum, which was kind of average… and for some reason, the security guard really didn’t want me carrying my jacket in my arm. Huh.

Afterward, we wandered down Friedrichstrasse, which is the main street in Berlin (our hostel, BaxPax Downtown, was right off said street: huge bonus). We mostly found run-of-the-mill fancy shops, but then there was the VW dealership… Sam’s more of a car connoisseur than I, so he was floored when we saw a Bugatti (I'm told they're legendary, but I just see a car from a sci-fi movie) and a Bentley. There's a picture in the album of a motor almost the size of a nearby child. Cool store, though; big enough to be its own museum.

So, I’m really happy my camera battery held out for a few more minutes, because our next stop was the well-recognized Brandenburg Gate. What I liked even more, however, was the DZ Bank just to the left side in that plaza. This business building, as you’ll see in the picture, looks entirely ordinary from the outside. But go inside, and you find the work of American architect Frank Gehry, who is well known for his mind- (and metal-) bending designs. I wish I’d gotten more angles of this, but they don’t let you in past the reception.

Lunch was less remarkable than Sam’s attempt to get a recommendation. My approach: go on TripAdvisor or Zagat or something beforehand. But, since I hadn't, we were left with Sam’s approach:

“Hey, there’s the American Embassy! Why don’t we ask somebody there?”

“Sam, what the—”

“Dude, they speak English, and they probably know what’s around here.”

“Alright…”

We approach the security guard just outside the building. This is the closest I’ve been to American soil in four and a half months. Sam poses his question to the security guard outside the building.

“Well, that’s one I don’t think I’ve gotten before…!”

Sam laughs. Not that he needs a prompt to do so.

“Well, if you go through the gate, and go round the corner?” The guard instructs, “There’s a Dunkin’ Donuts.”

Dunkin’ Donuts?? Really??? Supporting American interests to the end… somebody needs to give this guy a raise.

“…And next to the Dunkin’ Donuts—”

Ohhhh, okay!

“—is a noodle box place," the guard finishes, "that’s where I usually get lunch.”

Good work, Sam.

There’s really no point to that story—we got lunch somewhere forgettable. But it was right next to the Holocaust memorial just a few steps from Brandenburg Gate, the DZ bank, and the American Embassy. The memorial is a sizeable expanse of square monolithic blocks.* The whole thing is on uneven ground, so some blocks are knee-height, while others down the slope are a good 8+ feet high. They're not all the same height, though. And it’s a grid, so each monolith is pretty close to those surrounding it, so if you were feeling uniquely disrespectful, you could hop across the top of these blocks all the way around.

By the way, if you’re wondering why this the design for a Holocaust Memorial, Sam and I weren’t sure either. I think the best explanation we got was something about how, wandering through them, you feel lost amid a grey, stone cold maze of sameness. I don't think it's one block for each person who ____ .

We then walked a ways to the Technikmuseum, a technology museum. With LOTS of boats. And, thanks to an interactive installation, we learned that Sam has no idea how to steer one.

For dinner, we were in the mood for sushi (largely thanks to a TripAdvisor suggestion on a great place moderately priced). I had sake for the first time and I actually really liked it.

(133) is Wednesday, 19 May 2010.

There’s another bakery just down the block from where we ate the day before. It’s a more impressive display of tarts and such. They had bagels and meats as well; it was a good deal for very attractive food. I’d recommend the first place over this one, but it’s still worth a stop if you’ve got more than a few days. Or if you can actually FIND either of these places...

Today’s big event was Sachsenhausen, the concentration camp north of Berlin. The weather was grey and depressing (that is, perfect). There’s not much to Sachsenhausen; just old empty buildings, maybe a spot of museum here and there, and the pervasive mood of paying respects on a huge flat expanse of land. I was observant and respectful, but I didn’t feel particularly shocked or that my world had changed. I think two things explain this; the first is that Sachsenhausen was more of a holding facility than a death camp. Thus, its horror is not quite as dramatic as, say, Auschwitz.

Now, of course, me being me, I feared for a bit that I should have been feeling something I wasn't... the shock and horror, etc. But then I thought, Sam and I knew what we were in for with this visit. It's not like we studied the holocaust as a footnote of the military history of WWII. And I think that’s a silver lining of sorts; we were already cognizant of the horrors, thanks to the help of teachers (be it in school or family) starting at a far younger age. Since speaking two languages doesn’t make me or Sam especially well-educated or cultured, maybe this does.

The other silver lining was that we saw this place with Fabio and Paul, two travelers we ran into on the way to the camp (and they had met at their hostel that morning). Fabio was from South America (I want to say Argentina, but I’m not sure) and Paul was from New Zealand. Both nice guys, and they made one of the better odd couples I’ve ever met. Paul has a pretty thick accent, so Fabio wouldn’t always understand his intonation or might not hear a word. I’ll illustrate:

PAUL: “So, where are you going tomorrow?”
FABIO: “Yes.”
[Awkward silence for a moment]

But they were fun. It was nice to have someone else to talk with on that train back to the city… I just did not have it in me to spend another hour and a half convincing Sam that he was wrong: that there was no such thing as a ninja administration office, and that even if there was, it would be hidden and so he couldn’t simply move in with millions of American dollars and recruit the ninjas for the U.S. military.

We decided we couldn’t leave Germany without hitting a beer garden, so despite the weather and consequent poor attendance, we ate at Prater Garten, which you can find here.** I didn’t like the hop-loaded beer I ordered, but the veal Wiener Schnitzel was top-notch: great meat deliciously prepared.

(134) is Thursday, 20 May 2010.

Another TripAdvisor tip was Sowol Als Auch, a café in a very picturesque neighborhood (not far from the Sushi place and Prater Garten, actually) that reminded me somewhat of the more walkable residential streets in Manhattan. Anyway, the cafe had cute waitresses, patio dining, and delicious food. I had fried eggs with shrimp and salmon and a vanilla milkshake with a hint of banana. Both were great.

And we couldn’t leave Berlin without seeing the remains of the Berlin Wall. This is one of my favorite things that I’ve seen (which explains why about a third of the Berlin photos on my computer are of this site). Not only is there so much history behind it, but it’s kind of fitting that this dark, gritty landmark with a dark, gritty past is in the middle of a gritty factory area of the city. And of course, the artwork on the wall is pretty incredible, as the photo album for this entry exhaustively proves. I don’t know if there’s a turnover rate for murals, but many were marked to commemorate the 20th anniversary of the fall of the wall last November.

After the wall, we booked it to one last recommendation, Opern Palais, for a delicious lunch. It's right here. Anyway, my sausages with mashed potatoes and kraut were very good, but Sam’s dark horse order of Currywurst stole the show. And, as the guidebooks and sites (and I) will tell you, the real reason to eat here is for the dazzling selection of homemade cakes. I had something called ‘Tree Cake’ (there’s a photo), which was tasty, but I’m sure any of it would have been good.

Sam had to book it to his flight, so we got our bags from the hostel. And of course the sun started to come out as we walked from the hostel to the metro with our suitcases. We said our goodbyes on the train platform.

But I had one more stop to make, since my flight wasn’t until the evening. As you may have guessed from my Frank Gehry comments (or maybe just knowing me), I’m an architecture and design enthusiast. So, I wanted to make a stop at the Bauhaus, a museum to the famous mid-20th century school of architects. It was a tiny little exhibit, but I liked looking at all the geometric drawings and models and examples of furniture.*** Too bad it was half under renovation and they didn’t allow pictures (that didn’t stop me). But for 3 euro, it was a nice visit. I also learned about Walter Gropius, another man mentioned in the Tom Lehrer song I linked you to in the last entry.

I left, satisfied with my last stop, the week’s travels, and my state of being in general. As I walked down the ramp from the Bauhaus, the cloudy sun and soft breeze sang through the stark green leaves—softly, and more or less in tune—and reminded me: this is what spring could be.

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Footnotes

* Think 2001: A Space Odyssey… That is, think 2001: A Space Odyssey if you’ve seen it and are still capable of sensical thought. Most people aren’t afterward. It took me months to recover, and if I hadn’t been folding laundry at the time and thereby distracted, I honestly doubt you’d be reading this now.

** I’m starting to wonder if it’s still worth it to point out my recommendations to you, as I am going almost exclusively by TripAdvisor from this point forward, and you can go on their website much more easily than sifting through my blog again. But you know what? I’m a creature of habit. And perhaps when I get to the French Riviera, I’ll discover my own favorite places again.

*** My parents have a Bauhaus chair at home, and there was one just like it on display. My father was matter-of-fact when I told him about this. Not that I knew it was a Bauhaus chair… to me, since I was four, it’s just been the cool-looking but impossibly uncomfortable and unwieldy black leather-strip chair in the living room that your butt slips through the back of because you’re four and not tall enough to sit in the chair properly.
...I suppose "Bauhaus Chair" is a tad more concise, even if some of the meaning is lost.