Saturday 22 August 2015

Berlin

I'm writing this somewhere past the Germany-Czech Republic border, phone signal going in and out, on a train from Berlin to Prague. Surprisingly, I've managed to get Jody on another short flight for a long weekend abroad.

After spending a night in Edinburgh, we arrived in Berlin Thursday night, with much less flight anxiety than last time. We found our hotel and some Chinese food (Jody's preferred cuisine, regardless of location), then spent the rest of the evening watching football on television and planning our one full day in the German capital.

On Friday we awoke to a hot and sunny Berlin. Jody picked us up some egg sandwiches and croissants for breakfast while I showered and slathered on sunscreen, then we were off to enjoy the city, notes of the carefully plotted route around the city in hand.

But as I should have known, planning always leads to frustration.

The subway line meant to take us to our first destination had changed since the printing of my subway map, and now the trip planner might as well have said 'can't get there from here!' After much study of a more current map and wandering from station to station, I found a new route with a combination of 3 S and U trains, only to discover the S train we jumped on wasn't going anywhere. Luckily, a functional one finally came along and we made the journey to Checkpoint Charlie.

The checkpoint itself is a relic of the past with a background of the modern consumer world. The guard post stands in the middle of a bustling street, along with the old signage, a couple of museums, and a small portion of the wall left intact. Our city map had a dotted red line to show where the Berlin Wall had been, and it was a bit strange strolling casually back and forward across it during the day, unable to imagine how the same spot would have been when the wall stood.

Next, we hopped back on the subway to the Holocaust Memorial. It seems to go by various names in maps and guidebooks, but by any name, it's a powerful experience. The monument itself is a huge field of cement blocks varying in size, some small enough to sit on, some dwarfing the tourists walking the narrow path between them, all representing those murdered by the Nazis. Jody commented that he had expected there to be names inscribed, but I pointed out that record keeping was probably insufficient in that situation, which made it even more depressing.

From there we took a walk up the road to the Reichstag/Bundestag -- again I was unsure of the correct name to use -- which is an impressive building, but not terribly exciting. No one was allowed inside without an appointment and special clearance, and nothing much was happening outside.

We walked a bit further, grabbed a snack, and jumped another S train out to the Olympic Stadium where Jody had gotten us tickets to see Hertha Berlin versus Werder Bremen. Jody was gushing about how excellent "the atmosphere" would be, which made me slightly concerned that I would hate it. His idea of a fun football game is one with rowdy fans constantly singing and taunting the opposition, where I prefer excitement when something happens, but otherwise... sit down and shut up. Luckily we sat in the calm family section, right next to the crazy die hard Hertha fans, so he got his madness, and I got to sit undisturbed.

As it happened, while I was very glad not to be in their midst, I didn't find the hardcore fans annoying. Unlike the often nasty and antagonistic supporters of most teams, the fans were more positive and joyful about their team; it reminded me of the Bell Centre. Maybe it's because I was one of the home crowd, but I never saw any negativity from them in Montreal. The Boston fans said awful things, and the Montrealers just shook their heads and went on being in love with their Habs. Your poor decision of a team is your own business.

In the end, the game ended 1-1, and was fun to watch, high quality football. While we cheered for the home team like the polite unaffiliated visitors that we were, to my semi-knowledgeable eye Bremen looked the better team for most of the game.

We got back to the hotel after 11pm, exhausted from a long day in the sun (and 8 miles of walking, per the trusty Fitbit), but content that we'd done well in seeing Berlin.

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