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.

On a Clear Day (Hamburg, Germany, part 2)

The dry day promised, dear reader, did not eventuate. The new forecast was for rain. All day. Not heavy, but enough to be annoying. Had we been at home we would not have ventured out. We are not at home and who knows if we'll pass this way again. It was a case of dress for the conditions. My waterproof snow jacket has been vacuumed sealed and packed since we left Norway but I did not succumb to resurrecting it, even though it is Easter. It is wet but not really cold, so a cap and and umbrella would suffice for me. Jayne has been living in her snow jacket. No change required.

Flowers were doing their bit in the rain.

It is Easter Monday and Jayne noticed a change in the time difference between Europe and Australia. We didn't understand what had happened, nor could we explain it. Perhaps daylight saving had ended back home. A quick check with someone on WhatsApp proved otherwise. The next message was a screenshot of daylight saving in Copenhagen where we had just been, but it applied to most of Western Europe. Daylight saving had commenced here! We didn't know, although I did feel a bit more tired on Sunday morning. Fortunately we had nothing booked but, with computerised phones and watches, they all switched over automatically and secretly stolen one hour of my sleep.

Kunsthalle. Another view destroyed.

Suitably embarrassed, we dressed appropriately for the weather and set out on our self-guided tour of Álstadt (old town). First stop today was the Kunsthalle Art Gallery. We sheltered under a portico of a building on the opposite side of the road. It was closed, it's Monday, but there seemed to be a lot of people walking around the building and the lights were on. Despite this we stayed where we were, neither of us felt like a gallery viewing  but the exterior of the original portion of the building was worth seeing.

There were six lanes of main road separating us from the Kunsthalle and the incessant rain and wet surface did little to slow down the traffic. They drive fast over here. Unnecessarily so.

Nothing but ducks.

A little further along was Alster Lake. We continued our walk down one side and along the other. There was no sight of people with sailing boats today. Even the canal cruises were few and far between. It was great weather for ducks and they seemed to be enjoying it. The dreary day was brightened by a host of golden daffodils, planted the entire length of one bank. 

Wordsworth would approve.

Three sides of the lake were surrounded by high-end boutiques, designer brand stores and hotels. The other was a divider between the small and large lake. It was where the train services and vehicle traffic crossed the water. As the rain lightened a little, we encountered more people but it was deathly quiet for a major tourist area.

Alster Arcade. Hamburg, not Venice.

Not far from the lake is the Alster Arcade. It is a series of shops, mostly cafés, with a walkway that fronts onto one of the canals. The walkway itself is covered and a series of white arches frame the view of the canal and the Rathaus (townhall) with its markt. The tourist books and websites talk it up but it could do with a coat of paint. It looks a little jaded and faded.

Hammonia, the city's patron goddess sits over the entrance.

Past the shops where we can't afford to buy anything and not just because of the exchange rate, we ended up in the Rathaus Markt square. The rain had eased again and we decided to head inside the Rathaus. The foyer area is interesting in itself and we would have joined a tour but there were none in English. We contented ourselves with what was available. 

You can tell he's important by the pose.

The 16 columns in the foyer have the faces of important Hamburg residents carved into them. I didn't check every pillar but I'm a betting man and I bet there was not one woman among them. Above the windows to the courtyard were depictions of Roman gods in stained glass. In the courtyard itself was a large fountain adorned by statues, but we weren't permitted into that area.

All rather grand.

The Rathaus is still in use and there were certain areas locked off by black iron gates. All rather striking against the red carpets, marble and gold decorations.

The Roman god Mars, a scorpio of course.

We were around half way through our Alstradt tour. It was time for coffee somewhere near our next stop, but indoors and not crowded. St Peter's church was close by and we had passed the other side of it on our way to the Kunsthalle. Fortunately there was a coffee shop on the way. It was time for a break. Jayne's coat was getting heavy with water from the persistent rain.

A water fountain in the Rathaus foyer.

The coffee was good and it was nice to sit down. The guy running the place was absolutely lovely. Sometime in an earlier blog I talked about service or the lack of genuine service. This was the opposite. He was friendly and offered for us to move to a window seat which we attempted and gave up because of our wet clothes. Unconcerned, he was happy for us to make a mess of his café. This is probably the most attentive café/shop worker we've come across on this trip. It doesn't take much. Most of the time I feel as if I'm inconveniencing the shop assistants.

Impressive. They know how to build big.

It was a few minutes to St Peter's. Another impressive spire. Hamburg has thing about spires poking up through the clouds. I wonder what Freud would make of that. We went inside the church after photographing the brass door knockers made in 1342. Inside was pretty well what you would expect, rows of pews and spectacular stained glass windows behind the altar. There were some paintings of significance on the walls, but they were typically the dark hues of their genre and were difficult to shoot in the dark interior. The most interesting feature was a homeless man sheltering from the cold and rain.

The simple altar contrasts with the windows.

You keep knocking but ...

Next stop on our itinerary was Chilehaus. It is so named because it was originally a warehouse for spices and chili. It is a landmark building because of its shape. It comes to a point, much like the Flatiron building in New York, and resembles the prow of a ship. The balconies replete with balustrades, resemble the decks on a cruise liner. I'm sure it looks more impressive on a sunny day.

Come on, you can see it.

Around the corner was the Chocoversum. I'm not sure that translates into English, but it's like a chocolate factory that does tours explaining the process, blah blah blah. At some point you get to create your own chocolate bar. Really? What is the point? Perfection was reached when the Cherry Ripe was created and heaven attained when Cadbury bought MacRobertsons so the Flake and Cherry Ripe lived under one roof. So, at €21 per person, to spend the day with a bunch of uncontrolled ankle biters, the answer was no. €42 buys a lot of anything, let alone chocolate.

They did have chocolate Harry Potter wands on sale. I may have purchased one for my favourite child who will be identified because they respond to this part of the post. Imagine crunching that straight from the fridge? Accio!

Only €10 or $16.40 AUD. Bargain.

Moving on, we went in search of St Nikolai, a remnant church. That's probably an overstatement. It is a steeple and some crumbling walls, although the crypt also survives. This all that remains of the landmark that was once used for navigation purposes during World War II. It stood out amid all of surrounding Hamburg and guided the allied bombers to their target. 

The spire of St Nikolai which can be accessed by elevator is 147m tall. Thankfully the lift only goes about half way. I'm sure the view would be spectacular on a clear day, but, yeah, you know. Hence the title today, On a Clear Day. There were many options for this song but I chose one of the best to share with you. Click on the link and enjoy.

The spire of St Nikolai still stands.

Up to the viewing platform, pictures taken, it's time to go back down. Then Jayne noticed this guy who was looking extremely uncomfortable. His partner was enjoying the view and his unease and filmed him. He never moved far from the elevator and constantly pushed the button trying to summon his chariot of rescue. We joined in his journey to the ground and safety. During our descent, Jayne asked him if he was ok, given the lack of empathy his partner was exhibiting. "No, I am not. I am terrified of heights," which made his partner laugh even more.

Back on the ground the conversation continued during which we found out that they are Albanians who have moved to Hamburg to work in the medical system. Our acrophobic new friend spoke longingly about Albania, saying that he did not feel comfortable in Germany because he finds the people too cold. He was certainly keen to talk to us after we made the initial inquiry. Anyway, we were swapping travel tales about how great we had found Sweden and Scandinavia in general, when another passerby injected herself into the conversation to tell us she is Swedish and had come to Germany to enjoy the spring weather! Gross misjudgement, in our view, given the persistence of the precipitation since we have arrived. 

The Rathaus from the viewing platform of St Nikolai.

Anyway pleasantries exchanged, suggestions were made by us to try out our warmer, drier climate, to which they all agreed, "It would be lovely but it is too far to go and don't you have poisonous spiders and snakes everywhere?" Except the Albanian, "I don't fly. I even drive home to Albania". After this, we all went separate ways as we descended into the crypt, to view an exhibition on the WWII events that led to the destruction of St Nikolai and in fact, most of Hamburg. 

The crypt is an exhibition of wartime photographs, eye witness accounts and a graphic video presentation that documents Operation Gomorrah, the Allied forces bombing of Hamburg in 1943 in which 60% of the city was destroyed and over 200,000 people were killed or wounded during the firestorm. The attack was partly in response to the German attack on Coventry. 

The exhibition was extremely poignant and the scale of destruction depicted was mind boggling. We both commented on how similar we found the understated tone of the presentation was, to what we experienced in the Hiroshima Peace Memorial. This was in stark contrast to the Ground Zero exhibition in New York. 

After that sobering exhibition we returned to ground level and the drizzle and plotted a course for home.

Thank you for staying with me until the end, dear reader. It was a big day. We covered over 10 km on foot in the rain and weren't uncomfortable. Good clothing choices.

Until next time.