Berlin

As we approached Berlin by road, I pointed out to Thorsten the familiarity of the concentration-camp-style trees that lined the highway. Perhaps my mind was preparing itself for all the history to be encountered by rerunning episodes of Band of Brothers. A borrowed Fleet Foxes CD was playing which helped bring me into this fantastical living diorama of history.


First, we stopped by to pick up the keys to Thorsten's godfather's apartment.

Androgynous Berlin hipster stylin'.

A precursor to the many World Cup matches we watch in countless Berlin cafes, bars and restaurants.

First thing on the list was the iconic Brandenburg Gates.

Unter den Linden.

Border security.

After passing through to the West side, we were pleasantly surprised to find that the queue to visit the Reichstag was not so infamously long. We were lucky not to have to wait so long for this spectacular sightseeing landmark. This was one of the most intelligently-designed buildings I have seen, using solar energy, recycled rainwater and combining new and old into a proud institution Dem Deutschen Volke (To the German People).

The spiralling walk up and around the inner lining of the glass dome roof was relaxing, informative and aesthetically-pleasing. Its effect of rendering all the other visitors into mere silhouettes, in my mind, served to emphasis the equality and democracy of the faceless everyman citizen in the Republic.


Throughout, there were amazing views of various Berlin landmarks stretching far into distance. This was a perfect introduction to the city.

The Jewish Memorial, not so far away, on the other side of the Brandenburg Gates, appeared like a concrete carpark.

The funnel, which collects rainwater falling through the aperture in the room and feeds it into the building's water usage. Curiously, the aperture was bigger than the funnel.

On the way down, the genius of the architect did not cease to surprise me. I noticed that the natural spiral path draws the visitors' eye outwards towards the city on the way upwards, and inwards towards the middle mirrors on the way downwards. Or maybe it was just me.

The building even had its own swotty sun-visor to protect the politicians from sunglare in the parliament below. Even the building was prepared for all weathers, just like the German tendency to wear Jack Wolfskin or North Face all-weather camping jackets!

Perfect timing: the long waiting line that developed as we left the building.

Ampelmannchen.

At the minimalist but still impressively grand Jewish Holocaust Memorial, uniform blocks of concrete rose out of the ground at varying heights.

Despite its serious and grave overtones, the place provided ample opportunities for hide-and-seek and to scare a friend.




Watching Brazil v People's Republic of North Korea in East Berlin, in an Aztec/Mayan- themed restaurant.

Apologies to Picasso.

20 years after the fall of the Berlin wall, two escapees have slipped through a crack in the wall.

Disney tours of Checkpoint Charlie? WTF.

We stopped by at a McDonald's at Checkpoint Charlie and was relieved to discover that the Capitalist American corporation had not arrogantly set up a symbol of might and victory on the Eastern side. My thoughts of buying a gas mask were shot down by "What would you need a gasmask for?"

Ze Vorld Klock.

An East-German lady.

At Lush, in Alexanderplatz, I was introduced by Thorsten to the totally hetero, perhaps metro, appeal of handmade shower and bath products made from natural, often edible, ingredients. I must say, I was a convert. One is able to test the myriad of soaps, scrubs, gels, jellies, cakes, all of which leave an indelible lasting natural fragrance and freshness on the skin.

Prenzlauerburg?

Trung Nguyen coffee all the way here in Europe! at Mr Long.

Apparently, the Vietnamese make sushi here in Berlin.

Crashing at Suzie's place.

Korean dinner whipped up by Suzie and friends.

Even on the train platform, the information screens were displaying the Deutschland victory over Australia, 3 days after the game!

In KaDeWe, the German Department Store of the West, we saw modern-day capitalists stimulate their economy. The riche dined at the luxurious food hall which served seafood and oysters which must have travelled a long way to be here.

We played a grudge match on the store XBOX.

Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church.

Trabant.

Pizza, kirsche (cherry) drink and a World Cup match.

Stealing the Cup.

Nederlands.

Awesome graffiti.

Just having a resting loiter on the wall.

At 'Basil', there is fresh basil and thyme on the table!

Following instructions in my Lonely Planet, we found the location of what was supposed to be Hitler's bunker. We found no commemorative plaque, no signs, no indicators, only a couple of construction workers willing to pose for photos.

For the record and in Thorsten's defence, there was party music playing in the background.

At the highly-anticipated Museumsinsel, we only had time for one museum so decided for the popular Pergamonmuseum. Here, we waited a few minutes until free late entry on Thursday afternoons. The magnificent Alter really recreated and transported me back in time to antiquity, in spite of, and perhaps due to, its simplicity.

Thorsten explaining to me the beautiful Hellenistic nose.

'FML'

Thorsten inventing democracy.

One of the many paper sculptures I will collect from Europe and am yet to assemble.

Five Berlin landmarks in one shot!

Neptune Fountain, one of my favourites.

Crashing at Alexanderplatz, (while I recharged my camera battery at Lush and then took photos of Neptune).

This is no photo opportunity.

That night we found the highly-anticipated and critically-acclaimed Monsieur Vuong, where Thorsten had his first foray into Vietnamese food.

The build-up.

The experience.

The reaction.

On the final night, to make up for all the other lame nights when we were both too tired and time-pressed to go out, we decided to have a final celebratory party night. Justifiably naively, we chose the "Kumpelnest 3000".
Only afterwards did Thorsten realise and point out that Kumpelnest 3000 has the enlighteningly-embarrassing and exceedingly-gay translation of "Bro-nest 3000"; although I am sure that for some, it is a place of nurture and reprieve. Also, it must be noted that it was not merely a Bro-nest but a Bro-nest 3000.

Berlin, Neverland.