Time in Berlin
Account of travels, February ’09
Berlin is an odd choice for capital in the sense that it is neither Germany’s financial centre nor is it a major industrial hub. It is not Germany’s biggest city, it is not Germany’s wealthiest city; it is not a port and it is not Germany’s geographical centre. Berlin is however, Germany’s spiritual capital; and at least a portion of this is due to the role of ‘Old Fritz’, Frederick the Great.
Sanssouci music chamber
It was fitting that during our trip to Berlin we visited Sanssouci palace in Potsdam, just south of Berlin. As an architectural philistine I found Sanssouci to be enlightening in introducing one of themajor styles of 18th century architecture, Rococo. Frederick’s vast chambers and rooms were lavishly upholstered with decadent fabrics, asymmetrical reliefs and recherché mirrors. The sheer excess of gold and ornamentation wasn’t really to my liking but the marble oval hall in the neoclassical style certainly was. The ornate façade of the palace was quite a contrast to the socialist classicism of many of the buildings of Berlin and indeed, many of the buildings surrounding our hostel. Traveling from our hostel on Köpenicker Straße to Sanssouci in Potsdam would have taken over an hour by car, but we were able to make the journey on one of Berlin’s Regional Express lines in around 20 minutes.
The efficiency of the Berlin transport system typified a German stereotype in a very positive way. There is very little overlap between the rail services that Deutsche Bahn (DB) offers. The Intercontinental Express (ICE) provides long-distance high-speed transit, the Regional Express (RE) medium haul regional travel, the S-bahn serves Berlin’s commuter belt and finally the U-bahn caters for Berlin’s city centre.
The trains were never late, the lines were never closed and large snowdrifts did nothing to slow the iron beasts of burden serving the populace. The nomenclature for lines and stations was logical, if a little soulless, but made it easy for tourists to navigate through a system that would have otherwise been an utterly baffling morass of coloured lines. I can only imagine the confusion of tourists in London who find that some lines share names with stations and that single lines fork off in different directions.
Regardless of the quality of service provided by DB in comparison with National Rail, the financial figures speak for themselves. Privatisation of British Rail occurred in 1993 due to financial short fallings and inefficiencies in its management. Unfortunately the amount of money the government now spends on the railways has tripled from what was spent on the nationalised British Rail in 1993. Even before the financial turmoil we are currently experiencing, my local train operator South West Trains posted losses of £125m after a revenue of £1.5bn from fares and government subsidy (2007).
The situation in Germany is entirely different. Despite similar difficulties experienced during the early ‘90s the government chose to maintain the nationalised Deutsche Bundesbahn of West Germany and the Deutsche Reichsbahn of East Germany and merge them to form Deutsche Bahn. The company serves 2bn passengers each year and this year, despite the credit crunch and recession hitting Germany very hardly, posted profits of €1.56 billion, actually up on last year, owned 100% by the Federal Government of Germany. Quite ironic considering that DB (a nationalised rail company) is more financially independent from the government than privatised South West Trains. Unlike London, Berlin has had the opportunity to completely redesign it’s transport infrastructure to suit the 21st century; arguably one of the few advantages of Berlin’s destruction in the second world war.
The cost of our 7-day all access fahrkarten was €32 whereas a similar travel card in London would cost £55. DB is able to achieve this while working with a fares policy based on trust whereby no ticket barriers exist but inspectors may administer €40 on-the-spot fines. Berlin and Germany’s rail system remains profitable, efficient, on time and well loved by the German people.
Berlin’s transportation system is a symbol of the 21st century Germany that reunification has brought, and therefore an important point of thought. The experience left me wondering whether Berlin has lost touch with its liberal roots and traditions as a consequence of efficiency, reunification and modernisation. Thankfully my concerns were unfounded.
Köpenicker Straße
To call Berlin cosmopolitan would be an understatement. ‘A veritable hive of bohemian, young artists attracted by Berlin’s liberal zeitgeist and modernity’ would be closer to the truth. I saw evidence of this to a certain extent, as our hotel was only a few doors down from a squat. Lurid, florescent graffiti adorned the corrugated iron sheets and tall wooden fences that separated the squat from reality. Dwellings that would have been fitting for a South American shanty town were home to faceless, sinister silhouettes who seemed closer to urban ‘cyber-punks’ than young beatnik bohemian artists. Scrawled type on a placard at the entrance of the compound read “You are leaving the capitalist sector! Everything you know is false.” So at least some of the anarchic themes of bohemianism were still visible on the streets of Berlin.
The trip to the Chamäleon theatre in the historic Hackeschen Höfe courtyard of Berlin was a real treat. Opulent art nouveau décor contributed to a rich, lively, decadent ambience which seemed reminiscent of what I know of Berlin’s culture during the ‘Periclean Age’ of 1920s Weimar Germany. The show itself was breathtaking – volitant, dexterous, adroit performers made up an incredible ensemble that exceeding the expectations the sumptuous surroundings had already built up. This is to a large extent what my Berlin experience means to me. Experiencing Berlin’s culture first hand in one of the purest ways possible.
It seems as though efficiency, modernity and redevelopment has not come at the expense of Berlin’s culture. It would be crass to attempt to compare the Berlin of today and Weimar Berlin in a direct juxtaposed manner. Instead, taking into consideration the need for modernisation, coupled with the decades of a physically divided people it is remarkable that the preservation of Berlin’s culture has been so strong. It is a testament to the resolve of the committed majority that Berlin’s culture is as vibrant as ever.
The trip to Sachsenhausen should have been harrowing and I had mixed feelings about going to the camp prior to the trip. Since the Soviet occupation of the camp in the 1950s and the construction of numerous memorial buildings it didn’t feel authentic or real. I struggled to understand the camp or imagine what it must have been like for those victims during the war. In contrast, I found the Holocaust memorial in central Berlin to be much more powerful in showing the extent of the Holocaust. The memorial is built on 5 acres of land one block away from the Brandenburg gate and visible from the Reichstag. The sheer scale of the site was breathtaking with 2,711 concrete slabs arranged in a grid pattern on a sloping field. Each block is unique and standing in the middle of the slabs made me feel isolated and trapped. I found the memorial to be much better at conveying the reality of the holocaust than Sachsenhausen itself. Perhaps it was because the memorial had the benefit of being designed to be striking that I found this to be the case – but either way I was glad that on my first visit to Germany I had spent some time thinking about the Holocaust.
My time in Berlin was multifaceted in the same way that Berlin itself is a city of contrasts. On the one hand Berlin is a beacon of science, technology and efficiency but on the other it is still a liberal, bohemian and cultural centre. My experience of Berlin reflected this a great deal.
From the escapist Sanssouci to the realist Sachsenhausen, my Berlin experience was extremely contrasting and perhaps those juxtapositions are what I took away most of all from the trip.
