Heroes (Berlin, Germany, part 1)

 Hello, dear reader. In one of those warps in time and space, we have left Berlin and are on a train heading for Prague. Thankfully that four and half hours will allow me to catch up on the blog. In a pre-emptive visiting the wall, the title is David Bowie's Heroes from 1977. He wrote it while recording the album of the same name in Berlin. It was about a couple he saw every day on the way to the studio, 'snogging' in the shadow of the wall.

As has become our practice, we decided our first full day in Berlin would be a day to explore the local area. Our shopping expedition last evening yielded all we required for breakfast so we didn’t need to search for a café. We researched the Hop-on Hop-off bus yesterday and decided that would probably be a productive way to see Berlin. The city is large and there is so much to see. Fortunately, where we are at Hackescher Markt, there is a lot very close to us, well within walking distance.

Almost made the frame. Nice scaffolding.

First stop for the day was the Berlin Cathedral or Berliner Dom. As you know, dear reader, we have seen many cathedrals on our travels. I think it fair to say that no-one does a cathedral quite like Europe. Every time I think I’ve seen everything there is to see in a church, something comes along to astound me. And here we are awestruck once again. It’s not the lavish altar, as impressive as it is. Or the magnificent mural on the ceiling, as beautiful as that is. Or the ornate pulpit, as over the top as that is (more on these in the next blog). It is the sheer size of the dome. It is massive. The whole structure is so large that to photograph it in one frame I needed to cross the road and walk half way through the Lustgarten.

The Old Museum in the Lustgarten.

It was €10 per person to go inside and climb the 267 stairs to the dome. While that is on the agenda, it is not for now. We went back out to the Lustgarten to photograph the fountain and the Altes (old) Museum. The latter is not on our list to visit. Its focus is largely the Greco-Roman period of history and we believe we have this covered with previous museum visits in numerous countries.

The fountain.

The Lustgarten was crowded with, what appeared to be, school groups on tour. They were everywhere we looked. The sun was shining and it was quite exciting, not just to see the sun, but to feel its warmth. The more I travel the more convinced I am that I could not live in a country without regular sunshine for extended periods.

Next we went across the main road to the Humboldt Forum. Here was another massive dome peeping up from surrounding walls. Today it is a gallery, in a previous life it was the Berlin Palace. Our mission was to locate the tourist information centre that lay within its walls. Allegedly. Like Platform 9 at Stockholm Central Station, it remains undiscovered.

The interior courtyard of Humboldt Forum.

From the Forum, we walked towards the Marx-Engels Forum. In essence, this is a park that housed a statue of the two best friends. Or should that be economists? Or philosophers? Or fathers of communism; in its purist form of course? 

A pair of communists juxtaposed with a church.

There were other sculptures in the park that focused on humanity’s struggle, the worker against oppression. It took a while to secure the desired shot of their statue because the vapid and vacuous insisted on selfies with the great men. Given the posers were sporting designer gear while holidaying in Berlin, I’d say the capitalist system worked well for them. I’m not sure the dynamic duo would approve. I would be unsurprised if they did not know the identity of the two stately gentlemen.

The worker. Not actually working.

Across another major road and we were at the Rathaus. Constructed in the 1860s and built of red brick, it is the more modest of the buildings in the area. No huge dome, no soaring spire. It is still large, but is more functional.

The Rathaus.

At this point, dear reader, I am questioning my selection of camera lens. I’m using my usual 18-135mm which is a good general-purpose lens. At 18mm I can usually capture the larger objects and the 135mm allows me to take close ups as required. None of the buildings today are able to be shot at 18mm. I will need to return with my 10mm lens and earlier in the morning when the crowds are not as invasive.

As we moved from the Rathaus toward Marienkirche, St Mary’s Church, we were intercepted by a Hop-on Hop-off bus salesperson. We had already decided to purchase tickets for 48 hours access. What I had failed to realise in last night’s Google search was that there is more than one company. In fact, there were four, at least. An easy decision was now a little more complicated because they appeared to travel the same route.

We encouraged Juan to recite his spin and tell us why we should travel with the Big Bus company as opposed to the others. Part way through his spiel we were approached by some tourists who wanted to know what the building behind us was. “Rathaus, town hall,” we replied. “Can you go inside?” was the next question. We looked Juan, he looked us, we all shrugged, “Don’t know.” was the simultaneous reply.

The deal breaker with Juan’s offer came in two parts, an App where you could track the buses and you get a free currywurst. Nah, joking about the currywurst, that voucher went into the bin. There was also an associated walking tour from the Brandenburg Gate to Checkpoint Charlie. Sold. We purchased our 48 hour tickets to commence tomorrow.

A fish out of water.

Onward toward the church with a brief stop at Neptune’s Fountain. It, like many fountains in Hamburg was not functioning. Despite this, it was still a draw card for tourists, including us. We sat for a while watching the passing parade until a family group arrived and started getting up close and personal with one of the statues on the edge of the fountain. They spent some time peering into the nooks and crannies, photographing up under the lip of the fountain and examining the result and then sticking their hand up into the darkness. I was hoping for a random spider bite to make the viewing more interesting. Sadly, this did not occur - they left empty handed and unbitten and we are none the wiser as to what they were looking for.

Progress. According to the East German rulers in the '60s.

The TV tower that was erected as a sign of East German supremacy in the 1960s, stands as a silent sentinel in Alexanderplatz. It dominates the Berlin skyline and will be our beacon to guide us home when required. There is a restaurant or bar on the viewing platform but the queue was too long (2 hour wait time estimate) to create any genuine interest from us. Also, the day had closed in a little.

Marienkirche.

 In the shadow of the tower is Marienkirche, one of the oldest churches in Berlin. Outside, it is rather plain and unremarkable. Inside there are some paintings and fixtures of significance and as it happened, an organ recital. How lucky are we? This is our third organ recital in a church since we left home. Anyway, it is chance to rest our feet.

The organ. It goes OK.

Following the recital, we wandered around the interior which is quite dark, although the organ loft was quite ornate. The church also houses a baptismal font that is dated back to the 1400s.

The font. It's old.

Outside again, we skirted around the tower and checked out some of the food options for later. Our next target was the World Clock in Alexanderplatz. By now the rain had begun but we were undeterred. The clock, as expected, was underwhelming. It is a clock on a pole, below which is a 360° collar that lists various major cities of the world and their time zone. I was so unimpressed I didn’t even break out the camera. At least people were able to shelter from the rain beneath the structure. 

The pulpit. Imagine that as a fascinator at the races.

We turned towards Alexanderplatz and, as we continued to reconnoître the restaurant options, we spied a Decathlon Store. Still pining over the lost opportunity to buy the yellow jacket in Tromsø, we wandered into the shop. After negotiating the length and breadth of the very large retail space, and successfully dodging numerous unparented children who were testing out various pieces of sporting equipment such as scooters, skate boards and inline skates, we glimpsed a dash of yellow in the middle of the rack of discontinued jackets.

There it was, like a pearl in an oyster, one lone yellow waterproof and windproof sailing jacket amongst all the brown, blue and black. Surely it couldn’t be my size, dear reader? Miracle of miracles, it was a perfect fit! Yellow! The same style is available in Australia but not in yellow. Finally, I had my jacket, and for sure the rain would stop today. Feeling smug after saving €20, that will pay for our entry to the Dom, I donned my jacket and headed out into the rain to christen it.

Unlike Hamburg, Italian is not the preferred option of Berliners. That is not to say there are no Italian restaurants; there are, just not on every corner. Still, we decided upon a pseudo-Italian restaurant that was trying to be all things to all people – pizza, pasta, sushi, schnitzels, steaks, racks of lamb as well as traditional Berliner offerings like pork knuckle and sauerkraut. It was close to home and solved our daily dilemma of where to eat. The food and the wine were good and the walk home in the rain was short.

Until next time.

Last Train Home (Hamburg to Berlin, Germany)

A spoiler alert before you commence reading, my loyal reader, and a disclosure. The photos are all from Hamburg and are purely aesthetic to break up the text. The title today relates to our train dramas in Berlin. Transits are never as easy as they are planned to be.  The Last Train Home by Blink 182, one of their more recent numbers.

Leaving Hamburg went smoothly. As such. We traversed a different route to the station now that we had some local knowledge. It was marginally longer, not noticeably, but easier with the bags on the cobblestones. Hamburg couldn't help itself, however. Despite the dry weather forecast, it just had to drizzle on us one more time, as we trundled towards the station.

There are of course, multiple entrances to a station of this size. After crossing and re-crossing the road, we found the entrance we had used four days earlier. You may recall that initially, the escalator to escape the station was not working and we had to lug our bags up the stairs. Today the down escalator was frozen. I swear it is a conspiracy. We had to drag the bags down the stairs. I am not feeling the love for DB trains.

The old buildings really add character.

Despite this inconvenience, we arrived at platform 8 in plenty of time. I purchased some water, definitely still this time because I asked the shop assistant. Then we used the functioning escalator to get down to the very long platform. The discussion at this point had been about where to stand to board the train (first class, no more screaming children). Eventually this was made clear on the digital noticeboard. We were in the right spot on a very crowded platform.

The train arrived and, despite us being repeatedly pushed in the back by a German lady who obviously felt her reserved seat was going to be stolen if she didn't get to it immediately, I managed to stow the big bag. Not at ground level because that space had been usurped by bags that could have been placed in the overhead rack. I hoisted the suitcase onto the middle shelf, placed our smaller bags overhead and fell into my seat. We then watched our impatient fellow passenger, come all the way back down the carriage, past our seats, to occupy the seats directly behind us. Thankfully today's journey was a mere two and a half hours. It would be over before we knew it.

Even the derelict buildings get a little colour.

As has become the custom, the train was late, but not enough to inconvenience anyone. We disembarked at Berlin central and set about looking for the S Bahn line that would get us to Hackescher Markt, two stops away. At a 40 minute walk, for the first time, it was just a bit too far to attempt through unfamiliar terrain with the bags.

Despite being disgorged in the largest train station we have ever seen - multiple levels with escalators, more stores and restaurants than a typical shopping centre, and scant signage, we managed to locate the platform. Simple. What about tickets? Good question, dear reader. One not easily answered at that point. Jayne suggested they might have the ticket machines on the platforms. Correct. Up we go to the platform that will allow us the longest time period to work out the ticketing machines and still board a train.

Bird boxes are everywhere. 

Excellent theory. Despite Youtube asserting differently, there was no other language offered on the ticket machines. I tried Google translator on my phone with limited success. Jayne decided to ask the young couple that purchased tickets after I had given up. Fortunately they were Irish and while they didn't read German, they knew which buttons to push. Moments later, and €7 poorer, we had our tickets and enough time to get on the next train. Mind you, after all that, we didn't get our tickets validated. No one checked, so at least we didn't fare evade which could potentially have been the case, if not for the Irish couple's assistance.

We alighted at Hackescher Markt and immediately chose the wrong exit. Misdirection rectified, we arrived at our hotel at 1pm, 2 hours before check in. In a stroke of good fortune, our room was unexpectedly ready. Cheers Adina Apartments.

Hamburg Rathaus from the Alster Arcade.

After we settled in, we searched online for the nearest supermarket. The options were weighed and we walked the three minutes to Rewe which was literally in the other side of the same building. Unfamiliar supermarkets are always a challenge. Add to that a foreign language and all you can manage is to keep getting in the way of shoppers who are clearly in a hurry and know their way around.

After our usual deliberation over the procurement of staples such as butter, cheese and ham, we decided to give the limited wine selection a miss in the hope of finding a better range at a specialty liquor store. We did, however, search for a sealed container to store any unused food on our next transit day. We espied a display of, would you believe it, Tupperware just near the only open checkout that was being personned by a rather formidable looking lady. 

Inside the 'no go' zone in the Rathaus.

She was from the 'non-service' regime of which I have spoken previously and appeared to like her job as much as she would a cold water enema. Judging by her face, she could have been having the enema as she attended to us. She waved the Tupperware container at Jayne and sneered something in German. After we made it clear we didn't understand, the words dropped more loudly from her mouth like stones, once again in German. Surely the extra volume would ensure we can understand a foreign language. Thankfully the lady behind us translated the aggressive words of the shop 'assistant'. The Tupperware was a special deal with points accrued at the store, blah blah and would cost way too much without said points.

Jayne bid her an overly cheery danke schön as we made a hasty retreat from the store. We returned home with our goods and consulted Google once more. The short story is, we wandered lonely as a cloud, no, no, that's the daffodil poem. We found the liquor store. Very top end and expensive and continued our search until we stumbled on another, much bigger supermarket, that sold wine and bread. 

Window shopping on the Reeperbahn.

On the way out of the Adina, we had approached reception to inquire about a plug for the kitchen sink so we could wash up and not waste water. We were also missing a wine glass so we asked if housekeeping could supply both.

Back at the hotel,  we opened our door to find the hotel handyman with our dishwasher in pieces all over the floor. Clearly something had been lost in translation and we tried to explain that the dishwasher was fine, as far as we knew. What we were after was a sink plug. He then started to investigate the tap workings so Google came to the rescue once again and we learnt the German word for plug, "stecker." He indicated he would try to obtain one through housekeeping, put our dishwasher back together and cheerily departed the scene. Eventually the plug and three wine glasses arrived.

Davidwache (police) on the Reeperbahn.

The next discussion was dinner. Not that either of us was hungry, but after a long transit day, it's always good to finish with a meal. Finally we settled on the Japanese restaurant next door. An easy choice for two reasons. One, Jayne was indulging my love of sushi. Two, it was raining intermittently and we didn't want to chance the weather.

Another day navigated safely, it was back to the hotel to check out German TV. There wasn't much of interest until we discovered Eurosport and the World Curling Championship. I'll let that sit with you.

Until next time.