Berlin (Retrospective of 2010)

Mitte and home

My relationship with Berlin is at its beginnings, having visited the city twice in the last two years. My interest in the country is due to my family's German heritage , and though my family ties mainly lie to Frankfurt, I managed to find a Hessenberg contact through Couchsurfing.org; Johanna Hessenberg turned out to be my fourth cousin and lived in Berlin. We decided to meet for an evening, joined by her husband, Yuval, in Hackescher Markt, and so I arranged to stay with two English friends who were renting a flat in Freidrichshain for three months.

By the Canal

From this first visit, I remember my initial reaction to the city - I remember the emptier streets, the large floor boarded flats such as Suse's and Olly's, the grey buildings, that in contrast to Stockholm, looked khaki and worn. I also remember the cobbled streets with the distinct patterned pavements, the crusty hippies with loose dogs, and the bakery's that sold small cheese buns and hot dogs. On this occasion, I was left intrigued but confused by Berlin, as first visits to a city usually do. Suse and Olly, were generous with their time and showed me the landmarks such as Alexanderplatz and Treptow Park, and we even managed to find ourselves in a woods outside of the city were we encountered a pub full of middle angry aged men which we soon left. On another night, I waited at a station as the day turned to night, and I watched two rapping Berliners film a video on their mobile phones, as one rose in a clear glass lift to the bridge that I stood on. After this, I took the train to Munich, through tall conifer forests that pushed the carriages towards Bavaria. Here I stayed with Krina, an artist who introduced me to a cleaner, more decorative and catholic side to Germany.

Wrangelstrasse

My second visit to Berlin, a year later, was longer and this time I stayed a week at Johanna and Yuval's in Neukolln Rathus. I started to understand Berlin; I could sense its character better than before.

I arrived at the airport and was greeted by Yuval who took me in a taxi on his company's expenses. The taxi driver was rampant and swerving in an out of sectioned motorway as Yuval told me of the business trip he had just made. My eyes darted from his face hidden in the shadows and to the road which were lit by flickering orange lights. Eventually we arrived at Anzengruberstrasse, and entered their flat where a very happy and charming Johanna fed me nuts and salad, her smile gleaming with family connection. I then lay my head on a comfy mattress in the typically large sitting room with light, wooden floors and slept like a log.

The S Bahn

The next day I woke with the feeling of being somewhere new. The streets echoed back German and Turkish conversations but felt quiet and still; one person or group would walk by every five minutes. I stood and looked through the window to see brown pastel buildings with square in built balconies, over shops such as tailors and bridal fitters. A red bury tree hung opposite and this became a common sight through my stay. Old men hobbled with sticks, and old women in grey coats pottered to the bus stop.

Sophienstrasse

My days were spent walking long distances across the city; I familiarised myself to the main tourist area with the Reichstag and Museum Island, but soon left Tiergatan to explore the galleries of Mitte, and to walk through one of my favourite central streets, Sophienstrass. But after finding a bakery which seemed to be full of fat English women and finding a cafe which seemed to be run by two gay men for old people, I continued walking to  Prenzlauer Berg via a large intimidating, white series of social housing. Once I past these towers, the buildings turned to older structures and a village atmosphere resumed, with markets serving warm soup to the locals in warm Winter clothes. I sat in a park, and watched as a photographer snapped pictures of a model posing next to a fountain, who changed behind a silver reflection sheet.

Neukolln Market

In the evenings I socialised with my hosts. Yuval often cooked for me, and on one evening, the three of us played host to Nina, Johanna's half sister and so a second fourth cousin of mine. On another evening we went to an Israeli restaurant which served houmus every which way but loose. When Johanna and Yuval were in bed, I would take walks in the local Neukolln area to soak up the feeling of Berlin, walking past bars in old shops and hidden behind neon lights. Attractive girls and boys flirted with each other and smoked indoors without guilt. Graffiti lay on stone and brick, and bombed buildings stood strong.

The yellow tiles of the U-Bahn

Each city has its font, and this is usually shown on the walls of the underground system. Paris' 'Metro' font is world famous and London's is basic familiar, but Berlin's classic font in the U-Bahn and which can also be seen as an 'A' on pharmacy doors, is as German and Gothic as you would expect. Unlike London's Victorian underground system, one short flight of stairs reveals long yellow dirty caves that can transport you in most directions. At night, young people exchange cigarettes as they wait for a late trains and buy frankfurters from kiosks which watch guard. A city portrays itself in colours, and whilst London is greys and browns, Berlin is dark greens, yellows and browns covered in vines.

Berlin roofs and vines

As I say, my relationship with Berlin has just begun, and as I write this, I feel the mood of the city, the wide and straight streets, the calm atmosphere and the mature enjoyment of a good standard of living. Brains are respected here, but so is fun and the police sirens are few and the screaming is low, unlike in London tonight. I shall return to Berlin, and we shall bond over time, looking at each other through long large black windows.