Lots to catch up on as its been a busy two days. Yesterday morning we hopped a bus to Hellbrunn palace. About 20 minutes outside of the city by car, the palace was built as a summer day residence for Archbishop. Yes day residence. Read: No one has ever slept there. Kind of made me want to pull a Mixed up Files of Mrs. Basel E. Frankweiler just to be the first, but not enough to forgo Berlin.
Even if he was a spoiled brat, I found it hard to dislike the Archbishop for long, as he was also responsible for outfitting Hellbrunn with the oldest, most elaborate system of trick fountains known to man. The Archbishop’s favorite trick was to invite guests to what they expected to be a lovely alfresco lunch, seat them around his 8 person stone dining table (seven of whose seats concealed fountains) and soak them while remaining totally dry him self.
He also rigged the sculpture niches and decorative animal heads so that water gushed from them on his command.
Even by today’s standards the engineering of the fountains would be impressive. Placed in the context of their time, 400 years ago, it is truly awe-inspiring. The entire system operates on gravity. No pumps, no electricity, and it’s still running 4 centuries later. I can’t help doubt that we’re capable of manufacturing such durable products any more.
Dripping wet and happy, we wandered the extensive palace gardens and found a playground that looked out at the Bavarian mountains we’d driven through the day before. Though he deemed himself too old for the swings and see-saws, Austin couldn’t get enough of the zip line, zipping at least 10 times before we headed back into town for lunch.
I’m no Freud, but something tells me it’s not a good sign when you equate yourself with a pickle. Briny, awkwardly-shaped (Freud would have LOTS to say on this element), and served on the side – this artist could not have had very high self esteem.
After getting our fill of ceramic pickles we climbed to the café for some real food. It turned out to be delicious - the perfect end to the Salzburgian leg of our journey.
We arrived in Berlin last night around 8pm, and were too wiped to do anything but eat in the hotel.
But please love me anyway! I don’t own any I <3> _______ (insert city here) shirts! I only wear fanny packs cross country skiing! I swear I’m not a bad person. We were going to do a walking tour but it was supposed to rain.
Although I couldn’t fully shake my feelings of self loathing, the bus was actually a very efficient and effective means for seeing a lot of the city in a limited amount of time. We opted to stay on for the entire two-hour loop, hopping off only once. This method gave us a good overall sense of the city’s layout and basic background knowledge about its most popular sights. Then in the afternoon, we went back to the sights we wanted to explore more fully, and used to bus to shuttle easily between them.
Our first stop was the East Side Gallery – paintings by 100 different artists on the longest preserved piece of the Berlin wall. I’ve always had a deep love for graffiti art. Not FUCK this, or FREE that in bubble letters, but well-thought out, skillful graffiti art. Needless to say I could’ve spent all day wandering up and down the 1.3 km stretch.
But a bright beacon beckoned from across the street: the international sandskulpturenfestival! I can’t say I ever dreamed of attending an international sand sculpture contest, or even knew that such events existed, but I’m damn glad it was there. I’m always elated to learn of new professions. Chances are I wont end up a glorified sand castle builder (though I was quite talented at Gaudi-eque drip castles back in the day…) but things like the sand sculpture fest give me hope a niche exists for me, even if it’s unconventional.
After dumping the sand from our sneakers, we headed to Kaufhaus De Westens (KaDeWe), the 2nd largest department store in Europe after Harrods. In addition to being a sartorial and gourmet feast for the eyes, the KaDeWe has an interesting historical narrative. It was opened in 1907, and subsequently bought by a Jewish-owned company in 1927. The company hoped to expand the store, adding two new floors, but the Nazi Race laws of the 30’s foiled their plans and forced them to hand over their ownership. In WWII the store was completely annihilated when a downed bomber crashed through the roof. By 1956 it was fully restored, soon becoming a symbol of the prosperity of West Berlin in relation to the communist East.
Though the history was a plus, in all honesty, Austin and I were at the KaDeWe for the chow. The stores top two floors are entirely devoted to any kind of edible you could ever want. I don’t say that lightly - it is an empirical fact based on my interactions with the guest services woman on the delicatessen floor. Do you have frog legs? Certainly, in the meats section. Oreos? Sure, section 4 on the bottom shelf with the Swiss Miss and microwave popcorn. Egg salad? Check.Spaghetti Squash? Yes mam. What about…coconut water? Of course, with or without pineapple?
The 6th is more of a specialty food store with small restaurant counters interspersed, while our ultimate destination the renowned 7th floor, is a gourmet buffet. We were too overwhelmed to choose one theme for our meal, and piled our plates to the sky with discordant pastas, cheeses, vegetables and meats. I had samplings from at least 15 different dishes on my plate and Austin wasn’t too far behind.
Heaven.
After lunch we waddled to the bus, and rode to the Jewish museum. Liebeskind's design, which connects to the old Jewish Museum underground, is marvelously thoughtful. The museums zigs and zags resemble a distorted jewish star and are meant to represent the dislocation and pain suffered by Jews in Europe. The large void at the front of the building is meant to represent their loss. Behind the museum sit 49 concrete columns topped with olive trees, meant to reference 1948, the year Israel was created plus one column for Berlin. The columns and floor are tilted at such an angle that walking through them makes one immediately dizzy and disoriented - an homage to the emotions of the Jews exiled in the Holocaust. One of the most moving parts of the museum, is the Holocaust tower - a barren concrete void where the only light and air comes from a small slit near the ceiling.
The exhibits inside trace Jewish history from medieval times to the present. Many of them were delightfully interactive. One exhibit asked visitors to write down a wish on a paper pomegranate and hang it on a tree, another invited younger patrons to doodle with colored pencils (meant to symbolize the growing emphasis on Jewish creativity in the 20th century), and yet another computer-based game asked visitors to help medieval jewel trader Glinka pack her suitcase for a business trip. Though much of the historical information was familiar, there was enough fresh information to keep me riveted for the two hours we spent zigging-and zagging through the museum's long halls. For instance, did you know that denim was created by a Jewish immigrant from Bavaria to supply California Gold Diggers with a more durable work pant? His name, Levi Strauss.
Overall Austin and I have both loved Berlin so far. The city has an electric energy that's hard to resist, and the juxtaposition of old and new buildings, representing old and new ideologies, make it totally unique. It's fantastically sprawling (360 square miles to New York's measly 22) which makes exploring it on a time crunch daunting, but no doubt, worth it. But we have tomorrow, and guess we'll just have to come back...
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