Berlin is the most important city of the 20th century and also the most terrifying. It cannot be separated from the brutality of modern history nor does it want to be. Modern Berlin is a palimpsest that embraces the unruly history it has inherited and embraces it. The result is a cultural and artistic movement that seems to disavow any institution. Berlin is not socialist, not capitalist, not protestant, not catholic, not east, not west; it is a rebel’s paradise. At the East Side Gallery, a long remnant of the Wall decorated by graffiti artists, an assembly of youngsters blew horns and speakerphones at a crane about to tear down a section to build “luxury condos”. A rioter told me to take off my scarf that had been covering my face, or else risk being imprisoned as a troublemaker. At a bar on Kastanienallee, menus instruct guests to report any “right-wing” behavior, as they should racist remarks as if the two were equally deplorable.
Berlin seems to reminisce about its history as much as it tries to forget it. Museums (170 of them in total) and memorials spring up to retell the latest chapter. The Stasi Museum, set in the old Stasi offices, provides a chilling account of the state police in East Germany, reminiscent of the excellent German movie Days of Our Lives. The DDR museum is a less impressive overview of East German life. The Holocaust Memorial and Topography of Terror looks at the Second World War. In Dresden, two hours away, the Military History Museum of the Bundeswehr and the Volkswagen Phaeton Plant are both worth seeing. Unfortunately, Berlin is still fixated on Hitler and Stalin, and fails to recognize the rich history it has before. For that, the most reliable exhibit is in the Deutsches Historisches Museum, which stretches back to the first Germanic tribes.
Pre-20th century German history is rich and requires celebration. It grew outside the sphere of Rome (unlike France) and so kept its own culture and language. It led the Reformation and with the newly invented printing press propagated a people’s religion protected from the Vatican’s pretenses. In Westphalia, the treaty to end the Thirty Year’s War was signed and granted Europe a balance of power that was to last until Napoleon. And after, Bismarck defeated France to establish a united country in 1871, ten years after Italy did the same. It quickly surpassed all other nations militarily, including Britain, leading up to the First World War.
In the two World Wars, Germany effectively took on the entire world and almost won. It was blamed too vehemently for the First and too lightly for the Second. The First World War was caused by a string of automatic reactions to a terrorist group in the Balkans. To view the First World War as the result of German aggression is incorrect; it felt encircled (literally) by an entente and initiated a preventative war that could not be retracted. The Second World War, on the other hand, was completely Germany’s fault. Hitler was an easy scapegoat for Allied Nations who were more concerned of each other by 1945. So the German people, who elected Hitler, were saved from guilt.
Berlin lies deep in East Germany. West Berlin is a speck of capitalism surrounded by socialism, the reason why an “airlift” was required when Stalin blocked it off. The socio-economic composition of cities is a direct result of historical nuances. West Paris (think Champs-Élysées) is rich because it is closer to Versailles. West Germany is rich because it had a market economy. Compare, for example, the bustling Kurfurstendamm made in the image of Champs-Élysées in the West with the austere Karl-Marx-Allee in the East. The nondescript, utilitarian buildings of the soviet era are chilling.
Berlin is a sprawling metropolis. To go from the Stasi museum in the east to Rogacki, a great lunch spot in the West, requires almost an hour. Public transportation, though timely, is confusing because it has too many moving parts and because the city is too two-dimensional. To move close distances might require two or more transfers. So for short trips, the area to saunter around is Museumsinsel. All five museums (collectively 9€) are excellent, the best being the Pergamon. From there, it’s easy to walk up to Kastanienallee. Along the way are the best hipster cafés (the Barn), drinks (Weinerei Forum) and restaurants (Bandol sur Mer). On Kastanienallee, the Canadian chef at Der Imbiss serves Indian-inspired fast food under the auspices of an upside-down McDonald’s logo. Pratergarten, further down the street, is the oldest drinking house in the city and serves beer with traditional German fare.
The habit of urinating on the Wall did not fall down with it. Drinking on the subway seems normal. The food, like the city, lacks sophistication. At Bandol sur Mer, French price tags don’t translate to French food. The lemon sorbet, a good idea, was too sweet for the delicate salmon. The foie gras was soft so it could’ve used crunch instead of the chewy root vegetable and slightly soggy bread. In general, nothing in the city is worth trekking to. The latté at the Barn lacked body. All the beer, whether it is at Pratergarten or at a brewery, tastes good but similar. Even Rogacki, the famed deli-like market had definitively formulaic food.
Bandol sur Mer
50€ a person, conservatively
Berlin is a city still recovering. The wounds of the past century are seen loud and clear, even perpetuated by young artists who have made the city their canvas. It will make the unsuspecting traveller uncomfortable and frightened. Toddlers run around kicking empty beer bottles. The unemployed drink dirt-cheap soup at “cafés”. It feels like the city is screaming at you. Everything from the ugly soviet-style tv-tower to the many memorials of the dead has something to scream about. There is nothing heart-warming about this city; that’s why you should visit.