The day began foggy, but the temperature was still warmer than we experience in NYC (even though NYC is further south than Berlin). So, we ate on our balcony—enjoying the affordable nutritious food from the local grocery store. Seen below, each non-sugar/healthy yogurt only cost €0.70. The carton of juice was priced affordably at €1.10, and it wasn't made with concentrate.
We used the clean Metro system to travel (quickly) to the Spree River.
We meandered inland and cherished each picturesque street: tidy, orderly, lined with eco-friendly cars, and kept clean via sanitation men who drove electric vans.
Other silent electric vehicles included sanitation trucks that kept the sidewalks clean and emptied trashcans. Unlike NYC's trucks with crappy/loud engines that sound like Soviet-era tanks, those were so quiet that I barely heard them as they drove. They also accelerated quicker than the rumbling ones in NYC.
The ever-present taxis purred noiselessly with superior-made engines, but cyclists formed a big portion of the morning commuters.
Seen below, our destination was the Humboldt Forum Museum, which is free to everyone. It features human history.
After years of construction, it opened in July 2021. It is a modern structure, but the exterior resembles the royal palace that stood there. The Berliner Schloss was the royal residence for the House of Hohenzollern from 1443 to 1918. Initially, the site held a fort that overlooked the swamp around Berlin's city walls along the river. It stood on Fishers' Island (now part of Museum Island). In 1443, "Irontooth" Frederick II replaced it with a castle and garrison. Similar to how the Medici were given sovreignty to rule over Tuscany, the Hohenzollern were allowed to rule over Brandenburg... and they needed to quell the unruly Berliners.
As you might imagine, it was enlarged as Prussia gained prominence. Frederick the Great was born there. After the unification of Germany, the empire was formed. It was an era of grandeur; transatlantic steamships were named for the emperor.
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Imperial Germany demanded a grander palace, so the final version was created—crowned with a giant 60-foot dome.
The disasters of WWI spurred the abolishment of the monarchy. The Nazi Party seized power and lacked a use for the memento of monarchism. The disasters of WWII destroyed the City Palace. During the post-war Allied Occupation, it was allowed to remain as a burned-out ruin—to remind Berliners of evil Nazi deeds.
When the Soviets seized that part of the the city, they forced Berliners to dismantle the ruins. The site was left vacant for decades—to reinforce Communist values against capitalism and sovereignties.
Later during the Soviet regime, the site was occupied by a People's Hall for its "puppet government", controlled by Moscow. The ugly building looked like the bland shopping malls that were forced onto America's suburbs.
*Konigsberg (King’s Mountain) was Prussia's first capital. After defeating Germany, Russia took it and renamed it Kaliningrad. It is still the only part of Russia that is detached and so far away from the rest of the nation; they cling tenaciously to it, as if it was a prize.
When the Soviets were expelled from Germany, Berliners dismantled the People's Hall and constructed the museum.
The interior is modern but most of the facade replicated the imperial palace and returned it to the cityscape.
Due to a lack of signage, we entered, read the map, and proceeded to the upper level that we desired. However, a daydreaming guard suddenly noticed my cross-body bag and yelled at us to come down from the escalator. Lewis and I were instructed to put our bags—and coats—in public lockers on the second level. It was a self-service facility, and there were no museum employees to assist visitors. Unfamiliar with how the lockers worked, we were unable to shut ours. There were no signs or instructional images on the lockers or on the inside of their small doors. Assuming the lock was broken, we tried another one, but the handle wouldn't turn. Scrutinizing the front of the door, we noticed a slim coin-slot at the top. From a lower angle, it was invisible. A coin is needed to make the door close, and that releases the key; you get the coin back when you return the key. That makes sense, but a sign would be helpful. However, what happens to tourists or visitors who don't have coins? (Most Americans and European nations don't use them). Instead of their antiquated method of using inconvenient coins, why didn't Berlin use lockers with numbered buttons?
Finally able to proceed, we continued to the upper level that held South-Asian and Polynesian artifacts. The big wooden sail boats were impressive.
Since the Forum incorporates the former Museum of Asian Art, there is a huge section dedicated to Asian cultures—from antiquity to modern-day.
Alas, as a characteristically German error, the museum's maps fail to describe what is in each room. Seen below, it unhelpfully says that several rooms are for "Asian", but not which culture is where. Berlin's authorities expect you to figure it out on your own. Once again, signs seem bothersome for them to do correctly.
Seen below, Lewis complained about the stupid placing of signs. He needed to crouch down to read the placard. How does the museum expect elderly visitors to read it? Didn't anybody with a brain think to position those signs at eye-level?
Seen below, a frieze of Buddha and Vajrapani was made in India (now Pakistan) in the 1st-century. Buddha was born in India and renounced his princely riches for a serene enlightenment. Nonetheless, he is often depicted with a mythical servant named Vajrapani: a handsome youth with muscular calves and a toga that exposes his pectoral. In this stonework, he fans Buddha with a flywhisk—an item that was used in Imperial China by the emperor's gong-gong (aide).
Below, that female figure really seems to be aiming a dildo...
Many artifacts in Germany suffered mishaps during the 1930s and 1940s: things were confiscated from Jews by the Nazis, hidden by Nazis, looted by Allied troops, stolen by Soviet troops, and relocated for safety to European nations. Some were bequeathed back to Berlin. An example of that was the wooden chair from 1700s China...
Seen below, we ogled a long-necked vase from the Ming Dynasty (specifically the 1590s) that was given by Empress Dowager Cixi to Germany in the 1890s.
A mural of red lacquer (made from rare tree sap) was etched with exquisite talent! Look below at the lifelike people, horses, tree leaves, flames, curls of smoke, and two-dimensional faces.
We perused many exhibits, but an entire wing was closed for construction.
The gift shop was hugely disappointing since it didn't sell souvenirs about the museum or its exhibits. Bizarrely, it sold average-looking trinkets about Berlin: traffic lights, toy cars, miniature TV towers, bookmarks featuring the Brandenburg Gate, and cookbooks. We left.
*To see when we visited a ruined castle in Ireland that was restored for ongoing governmental use, please use this link:
German engineering wowed us with another new/sleek Metro station. Considering the cost of living in New York City, its subway stations should look like this, too. Corruption and embezzlement during the last 110 years prevent that.
We went to the Kunstgewerbemuseum (Museum of Decorative Arts). It specializes in Fashion and Furniture. Established in 1868, it is now housed in a modern building from the 1980s. It, the Berlin Concert Hall, and several museums are situated together at a plaza named the Kultureforum (Culture Forum), which was built in the 1960s to revitalize the area after WWII desolation.
The area was still under construction. Of course, it lacked signs. But I previously memorized what the museum looked like, so I could identify it.
The museums are supervised by a federal organization named the Prussian Cultural Heritage Foundation. At the end of WWII, artifacts in Berlin were threatened by Germany's imminent defeat (and European/American hatred of the Nazis). Knowing that Berlin would be obliterated, its artifacts were evacuated to castles, monasteries, and mines. Many were still damaged from the war. Others were irretrievable because their hiding places became Allied Occupied Zones. When America decreed that the nation of Prussia was abolished in 1947, the artifacts were further threatened. (Yes, the USA made an ancient nation cease to exist). Soviets annexed other territory, and artifacts remained isolated behind "the Iron Curtain" until 1991. Germans with Prussian ancestry formed the foundation to find and reunite the artifacts and artwork.
As we paid the admission price, we overheard an Englishman arrive and explain that he was there for a specific guided tour. Frowning at him, the guard said, "You're late. The tour started at 13:00. You missed it by 10 minutes." The foreigner apologized and explained that he got lost. (We empathized with that issue). Again the guard said, "You are 10 minutes late." The visitor merely asked where he could locate the tour. For a third time, the guard stated, "They left 10 minutes ago." Lewis and I wanted to tell him to stop scolding the visitor. If Germans are fixated on punctuality, they should make the effort to install directional signs for their tourist attractions and Metro system! They should have a public bulletin for all tourists to avoid Google Maps and suggest something useful!
Related to the topic of "misdirection", the interior of the museum seems like a maze.
Again, we had to store our belongings in lockers. Then we arbitrarily chose an exhibit and began our exploration. First, we saw a gallery of Fashion. As a graduate of the prestigious Fashion Institute of Technology, Lewis has a penchant for stylish apparel.
Victorian-era shoes like this are ridiculous and merely made it harder for women to do things.
Lewis and I agree that another idiotic fashion trend was giving dresses a "bump" in the rear. I suppose it could be used as an armrest or shelf for someone standing next to her.
That bulbous trend occurred after "bumps" were put on either side of women's waists. Chauvinistically, men never endured such inconvenient shapes on their outfits.
Transitioning to the gallery of Furnishings, I admired a roll-top desk. If I were a prince who paid a songwriter, I would give him a grand-looking desk like this!
We studied the delicate ivory carvings that were shaped as three-tier bowls.
We saw heavy wooden furniture that seemed to be made for manors and castles.
*To see when Lewis and I viewed the lavishly embellished furniture in a castle in Denmark, please use this link:
Seen below, a lidded beer stein was styled with ivory that depicted amorous scenes. Steins originated in Germany during the medieval era.
We rode the Metro to the Brandenburg Gate. For centuries, it is the symbolic entrance to the city. The neoclassical monument is a national landmark, and it is iconic of Berlin.
Its origin occurred in the 1730s as a way for people to enter the walled city. It was commissioned by Frederick William II, the King of Prussia and Elector of Brandenburg.
When Napoleon invaded and added Prussia to his empire, he rode through it triumphantly. Famously, he said, "If King Frederick the Great was alive, I would not be able to defeat Prussia".
Peace was restored until the World Wars.
In the 1930s, the Nazis consumed Germany.
After defeating Nazi-controlled Germany, the Allied Powers entered through the gate triumphantly.
Soviet-controlled Russia cordoned it into their portion of East Berlin by wrapping the Berlin Wall around it.
In the 1980s, the Brandenburg Gate was used to host a global speech about tearing down the wall.
*To see more about WWII life-changing experiences, please use this link:
Nearby, a humungous memorial is dedicated to murdered Jews of WWII. It features rows of coffin-shaped "art" at various heights. We did not visit it, but it looks like this...
Beyond the gate, we viewed a historic building that is called the Reichstag, which translates to "Imperial Diet" (from an era when a Diet was a Legislature). By the 600s, the Roman Empire disintegrated from within, so the noblemen of Germanic clans formed Diets to govern and make group-decisions. A famous Diet occurred when a Saxon duke became the first King of the Germans in 919. After the Roman Catholic Church devised the Holy Roman Empire, its emperors convened Imperial Diets as needed.
Here is a lithograph of the German Empire's Reichstag after being built in 1894...
Its Neo-Renaissance style conveyed national pride. It was a place where regional representatives voiced their desires.
In the 1930s, the Nazi Political Party was supported by powerful Germans, and it chose an Austrian named Adolph Hitler to be its "mouthpiece". Seen below, he duped the nation's tired leader, President Paul von Hindenburg, to become Germany's Chancellor.
Industrial moguls and fascists coerced some former nobility to support Hitler. Previously, Hitler was a little-known failure, but his loud-mouth ego (similar to USA’s President Trump) was deemed as ideal for a dictatorial regime. Similar to the USA's President Franklin Roosevelt, he ensnared his nation in a mess of agencies and bureaus that contradicted each other and sapped revenue. (The USA’s remain, multiply, and enlarge themselves). Four weeks after Hitler got governmental power, there was a “mysterious” fire that burned the Reichstag, and he used that disaster as a distraction to steal more power, create “martial law”, suspend civil rights, eradicate enemies (and former supporters whom he used), and override the parliament indefinitely. The Nazis blamed Communists—who were their competition—and enacted lethal manhunts. The building was deliberately abandoned.
Hitler stole ideas and made them his, while hiring psychopaths to lead his administration. Revealing his incompetence, his duplicitous agencies were fraught with confusion and in-fighting. He relied on brainwashing via "controlled media", racial/physical discrimination, and sprees of midnight murders to eliminate challengers. He could not function in a normal society. The world's leaders allowed him several years to gain a "foothold" on the type of military power that Germany was supposedly forbidden to recreate after WWI. He created his first deathly concentration camp in 1933, yet his regime was chosen to host the Summer Olympics in 1936.
Eventually, his villainous habit of exhausting or executing his underlings left him increasingly abandoned. His incompetence allowed decisive battles to be won by the Allied Powers. During the final throes of WWII, the unfixed Reichstag was damaged more. Germany's victorious occupiers deliberately left it as a ruin for 10 years, as an imprint on German society.
*To see real photographs from WWII that show people's strength, please use this link: https://halfwindsorfullthrottle.blogspot.com/2019/02/captivating-world-war-two-photographs.html
In 1989, a reunited Germany reclaimed the building for its parliament (bundestag). In 1999, a British architect named Norman Foster revamped it. The dome was rebuilt with glass and a mirrored column to symbolize governmental transparency. Visitors can ascend to the dome for free, but they must register two hours beforehand.
Ironically, the only piece of furniture to survive the Nazis' fire and WWII was the emperor's throne for parliament... because it was at a repair shop. It was stolen by an American and brought to Texas. Its survival became known when someone tried to sell it in the 1980s, but its whereabouts remain unknown. At 9 feet tall, the wooden throne has awe-inspiring carved embellishments and astounding leatherwork! It looks like this...
Seen below, the capital juxtaposed its traditional structure with modern ones that contain other parts of the government.
The Reichstag is guarded by the Heer (Army), which uses its imperial 1916 emblem: balkenkreuz (equal-ended cross).
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East Berlin morphed into a utilitarian community, and the government mandated "sameness" for everyone.
Yuck! Would you put your lips on that? Many New Yorkers do.
We paired some snacks from that market with another dinner from the Japanese sushi restaurant by our hotel. (For €50, we ate two soft-shell crab buns, two shrimp tempura buns, a soft-shell crab sushi roll, and two juices).
Troops wear uniforms made of "imperial gray" fabric.
On the topic of warriors, the Nazis also dissolved ancient Orders of Chivalry, because those knights opposed them. After the Nazis, the Soviets created an "Iron Curtain" through Germany and banned knighthoods. During the reunification of Germany, Orders of Knights and Orders of Merit were re-established. Nowadays, they focus on charitable and nursing efforts, and they are proud of their work.
Strolling east from the Brandenburg Gate, Lewis and I admired the city's oldest boulevard: Under the Linden, named for the rows of linden trees that grow along it. It was created in the 1600s by King Frederick I, who planted the trees to hide desolate marshes and rickety slums. But King Frederick the Great redesigned the boulevard splendidly in 1740. That day, he rode there in his carriage with his royal architect (Knobelsdorf), chamberlain (Von Pollnitz), and the chief of police. Documents say that he invented designs with lightning-fast creativity, and he personally paid for the civic improvements (since the nobility refused to dwell there). To doubters, the king said, "Blessed are they who believe without having seen." The boulevard and posh neighborhood remains successful... even after four wars. Remarkably, the young Frederick completed his project while on the verge of overthrowing Europe's old politics and fashioning an entirely new identity for all of Germany.
A pedestrian median is in the center, and kiosks were busy selling coffee, pastries, and currywursts.
The stately street also contains the Hungarian, British, and Russian embassies, along with a modern rebuilding of the Commandant's Mansion (originally built in 1654).
Across from his pink opera house, Frederick built a yellow home for his brother, Prince Henry, in 1748. It was named Prinz Heinrich Palais, but it was converted to the University of Berlin. During the Soviet Occupation, defiant students and faculty were sentenced to years of "hard labor" or executed. Normalcy resumed after Germany's reunification.
In that vicinity, the Kronprinzenpalais (Crown Prince Palace) was reconstructed where it originally stood since 1663. Initially, it was the home of the parliament's Cabinet Secretary. In 1732, it was remodeled grandly under the supervision of Frederick the Great to be his urban home as Prussia's crown-prince.
After his accession, he gave it to his brother, Augustus. In 1856, it was redone in neo-classical style for the future King Frederick III. Surprisingly, it was one structure that the Soviets rebuilt.
At the eastern end, a bronze statue from 1851 honors Frederick on horseback facing his City Palace. The statue was encased in cement to protect it from WWII.
As we walked, we saw an antique car that tourists hired to give tours.
We observed doormen from the Aldon Hotel buying pastries.
I noticed a perfumery that used images of Frederick the Great.
We made our way to the Galeries Lafayette shopping center.
I was fascinated with the technology on a dump truck, where a mechanical shovel put trees in the planters on the pavement.
Back at home, the city relies on manual labor, which makes more mess, costs more overtime, and takes longer to finish.
The shopping center had a marvelous globe-like center that was enclosed with glass and allowed sunlight into every level.
However, the entire place lacked the vibe and energy that we witnessed at KaDeWe, and its employees looked dull and lackluster.
We left.
We crossed the intersection and noticed a handsome Italian restaurant named Bocca di Bacco (Mouth of Bacchus), which opened in 2001. (Bacchus is the Roman god of wine, agriculture and fertility). Looking in the windows of the historic building, we were enticed by what we saw, so we lunched there. Everything was perfectly lovely.
The German maître d' welcomed us with an Italian phrase. We remembered some phrases from our time in Italy, this year, so we charmed him with the appropriate response. He reverted to his native language, but as soon as we spoke in English, he switched to English. The popular restaurant was bustling with lunchtime patrons. While our table was readied, the maître d' ushered us to a waiting area near the bar.
We sat on velvet armchairs and watched the female bartenders shaking frothy cocktails. In front of an illustration of Frederick the Great, a five-branch candelabrum was aglow, and its candles illuminated an assortment of Christmas cakes for sale.
We watched a cluster of waiters sing Happy Birthday in English to a group of Russians at a candlelit table.
A smiley hostess escorted us to our table: a deuce against the wall. Our blonde waitress served oven-warm bread, which we dipped in platefuls of olive oil mixed with balsamic vinegar.
Providing great value, the upscale restaurant offered a 3-course lunch for €28, and I had it. Lewis ordered a la carte and added some things for us to share. While our Tuscan white wine was poured, he ordered a €16 portion of smoked Burrata, salami, mortadella, tomatoes, and a basil emulsion.
Then, we shared €19 grilled Duroc pork belly, layered with creamy mustard. (Germans love mustard, and I do, too). The dining room manger smartly divided it on two plates.
We wanted a Pasta Course before our Main Course. Tantalized by their homemade pasta, Lewis chose €20 Linguine with Clams. The chef provided plenty of clams and no empty shells.
I ate a bowl of Spaghettini with Fish Ragout and cream of sepia ink. Dutifully, the waitress placed a "pasta twirling" spoon by my bowl. Lewis and I swapped pastas, so we could taste both. They were perfecto!
The dining room manager gave one of her happiest smiles when she saw our empty plates. She reset our table. From the kitchen, two food-runners presented medallions of breaded Monkfish with broccoli and olives in saffron sauce (for me), and a €40 fillet of Sea Bass with durum semolina wheat Fregola and seaweed (for Lewis). Every morsel was delicious!
My meal ended with jiggly panna cotta, which we shared. We delighted the waitstaff so much that the maître d' gave us free glasses of limoncello. That was sweet (literally). As we departed, he cheerily said, "Auf wiedersehen", which means "Farewell".
*To see our trip across Italy and its culinary triumphs, please use this link:
Remembering another eatery that we saw on the street, I voted for us to get dessert from it. Lewis agreed. So, we walked for a few meters and entered Lindner Esskultur (Lindner Food Culture). Two-thirds feature deli meats, artisanal cheese, sandwiches, and savory "prepared foods" that are ready to take-and-eat. The other part was crammed full with pastries! The shop excelled at affordable quality, and its staff was friendly.
Nobody gave scornful glances at the flamboyant gay man who entered wearing pink pants, a furry white coat, and white platform boots.
(Since the 1960s, Berliners pride themselves on acceptance).
The pudgy woman behind the dessert section was happy to sell me a piece of homemade apple strudel. When you're in Germany, you must try an authentic version. It is part of Germany's cultural gastronomy since the Middle Ages, and the name means "swirl". With the greatest care, she wrapped it in clear plastic before enclosing it in tissue paper and boxing it. That successfully prevented it from losing its powdered top or shifting in the box, as we carried it to the hotel. Such thoughtfulness and precision reminded us of the bakeshops in Japan. (The strudel outclassed any that I had before: the bits of apple were lovingly-cut to be thin, the layers of pastry were delicate yet firm, and the baking made the apples soft without being mushy)!
Lewis bought several individual-sized tins of chocolate truffles to give his bosses. We also purchased a perfectly-layered entremet: mocha cake, chocolate mouse, vanilla cream, pistachio cake, fruit jam, chocolate cake, and citrus cream—all enrobed with green marzipan and topped with a chocolate wafer that had the store's logo. It was sliced precisely to avoid smudging each portion.
Next, we wandered through the Mall of Berlin: an enclosed series of shops. Some were interesting, as was the children's slide that swooped from the second level to the ground.
Impressively, the mall was decorated with real ornaments hung on faux trees. That never happens in America because retailers are afraid that vandals and thieves will steal the ornaments... so they only put lights on the trees. However, Berlin's malls and outdoor plazas were decorated with ornaments dangling from the trees—indicative of an honest society.
We exited onto Leipziger Platz. In the 1830s, it formed when immigrants established shops and cafes for travelers who waited to enter the city gates.
Shaped as an octagon, it was obliterated during WWII and abandoned during the Cold War.
After the wall came down, the area was rebuilt in the 1990s.
At the nearby Potsdamer Platz, we examined remnants of the Berlin Wall... left were they originally stood. Seen below, we posed by fragments of the wall.
Since its creation, the Berlin Wall was vandalized by outraged citizens and critics. It's one of the few places in Berlin to suffer from graffiti... whereas nearly anywhere in NYC's five boroughs is plagued with (non-street art) graffiti...
As a segue, Lewis wanted to visit Checkpoint Charlie, which was one of the few border crossings between East and West Berlin. It is situated in the Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg borough, which was formed in 2001 and named for Frederick the Great.
To get there, we walked diagonally southeast on Stresemannstrasse. The wide street occupies the space where the Berlin Customs Wall stood, from 1737 until 1860. It replaced the City Wall from the 1650s. King Frederick I had City Gates installed for collecting tolls and taxes.
We turned onto Prince Albert Street, named for the youngest son of Prussia's King Frederick III. The prince's palace was there.
During the era of The Third Reich, it became the headquarters of the SS (Schutzstaffel). Hitler allowed a warlord named Heinrich Himmler to control all of Germany's security and police forces from it. Wearing the most-known Nazi uniform, the SS insignia featured a totenkopf (skull & crossbones) that historically meant piracy and death. It was used by Frederick the Great's cavalry of Hussars, so the Nazis claimed to use it for "heritage reasons"... but the truth was that they were a "death squad". (Nowadays, the insignia is used by the USA's Marines Reconnaissance Battalion).
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During WWII, the palace was obliterated.
The ruins were razed in 1955, and the Soviets left the exposed foundations and cellars to signify the demise of monarchy and reich (empire). The ruins are now part of the city's Topography of Terror exhibit.
As we arrived at the intersection with Wilhelmstrabe, we ogled at a huge monumental office building that filled the entire block. We walked along its longest side. It was the Detlev Rohwedder Haus.
It's appearance seemed like a mix of streamlined Art Deco and intimidating "block" concepts. That's because it is one of the few surviving buildings in Germany with original Nazi architecture! Built in 1935 for the Ministry of Aviation (headed a gluttonous braggart named Hermann Wilhelm Göring), it was the largest office complex in Europe. It contains 1,210,000 square-feet, 2,800 rooms, and 4,000 windows, and it was built in only 18 months. It is now occupied by the Ministry of Finance (Bundesministerium der Finanzen).
Across the street from it is a monumental relic of the Berlin Wall. Lewis and I walked along the longest portion of the preserved wall.
To give you a perspective, please watch Lewis' video of it...
Erecting the wall was a mammoth undertaking by the Soviets, with earth-shattering consequences. It symbolized Russia's defiance of the Western World. But it was not the first "wall" built by Soviet-controlled Russia; the first occurred after WWII by Joseph Stalin (the Soviet dictator). Similar to Hitler, he hired psychopaths to lead his administration and relied on a Secret Police to squash opposition. He depended on isolationist brainwashing via "controlled media" and sprees of midnight murders. He could not function in a normal society. Soviet megalomania ran rampant in the USSR, and many "occupied nations" were held as a "Soviet Bloc" (wall) arcross Europe.
Therefore, "walls" were part of Soviet culture.
Seen below, postwar Germany was divided and occupied by Soviet, American, British, and French forces. So was Berlin.
*In 1960, Elvis Presley (America's "King of Rock & Roll") produced a song about the American Occupation in Germany titled G.I. Blues.
Since Berlin was within the Soviet domain, Soviets feared that the Westerners would spread their capitalistic values against Communist ones. So, they erected a wall to encapsulate the Westerners within Berlin. It cut-off half of the capital and confined Westerners together: America, Britain, and France. Its foundation was literally created overnight. To mobilize the resources for that type of undertaking is huge, so Lewis and I are certain that Western nations knew about its planning. We are convinced that American industries—which still control America—were eager for it to occur as a stimulus of the Cold War. For them, America without a war was not profitable. (That explains America's ongoing battles—from Korea and Vietnam to Iraq, Kuwait, and Afghanistan). The wall was allowed to rise.
Famously, a temporary airlift program dropped supplies to the stranded population.
Eventually, a granule of practicality emerged, and checkpoints were installed for restricted entry/exit.
The spaces that the wall occupied can still be traced because they remained void of structures for so long.
As years passed, the Soviets added more layers of walls, thicker walls, mine fields, barbed wire, guard towers, search lights, hunting dogs, and lethal patrols.
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East Berlin morphed into a utilitarian community, and the government mandated "sameness" for everyone.
We saw a museum dedicated to Soviet-era cars named Trabi.
In contrast, West Berlin was filled with America's needlessly oversized fuel-guzzling cars: bad engines covered by shiny metal, and they were expensive for owners to buy/repair, but they enriched America's industries: steel, petroleum, and rubber.
Seeing the relics of feuding nations reminded us of our Parisian friend who lived in West Berlin. His name was Jean-Claude Baker, and we got acquainted because he owned a marvelous French restaurant in midtown Manhattan. He often regaled us with tales of living in that divided/encircled culture as a flamboyant gay man. At that time, he was a nightclub owner of Pimm's Club and a television host. As a bon vivant, he celebrated capitalistic success. Surviving in an oasis of Soviet control, he blended homosexuals, heterosexuals, politicians, celebrities, and gangsters at his nightclub. His social life was dramatic.
A craving for capitalism prompted him to relocate to NYC, where he became entrapped in America's workaholic "rat race", regretted his later decisions, and killed himself. To learn about him, please use this link:
Lewis and I arrived at the remaining checkpoint where the wall once stood. It is a historic landmark. Aside from its catchy name, Checkpoint Charlie became famous from a farcical temporary standoff between Russians and American tanks. It was the macho equivalent to a "pissing contest".
The dual-facing guardhouse remains—replete with war-era sandbags. Traffic zooms in both directions.
Retracing our steps westward on Zimmerstrabe, we popped into a cozy espresso shop named Die Espressonisten (The Espressonists). It was full of happy coffee drinkers who evaded the chilly air.
The cheery barista made me a perfectly-pulled macchiato, served in a warmed cup/saucer with a complimentary glass of water. While sipping, I browsed their shelves of coffee beans and machinery for sale.
As we continued on the street, Lewis noticed an antique hand-pump that operated a water fountain. Berlin retains several of them, and they are painted green.
Keeping those antique fixtures is definitely cleaner and more sanitary than modern water fountains that dirty pigeons take baths on in NYC!
Yuck! Would you put your lips on that? Many New Yorkers do.
After that, we posed for photos next to the Buddy Bears that are all over Berlin as symbols of friendly optimism. Made of fiberglass in 2001, they are iconic for Berlin and are installed internationally as "unofficial ambassadors".
Exploring the cavernous Metro station at Potsdamer Platz, we encountered an Asian Supermarket conveniently located underground where commuters have easy access. It was clean and well-stocked.
I gave my last gingerbread cookie to the hotel manager, who grinned gladly. He didn't believe me that we couldn't find affordable gingerbread in a huge city like New York City. But when he researched the options online, he saw that affordable versions were disgustingly made with "bleached sugar, margarine, powdered eggs, partially hydrogenated soybean oil, and cornflour". He volunteered to send Lewis and I a package of properly-made German ones as "things that you cannot find in the USA". He shook our hands and said, "Gute Fahrt" (Oot-ah fart), which means "Have a good trip". Together, Lewis and I said, "Dánkeschoen!"
Our flight back to the USA departed at night, so we left the capital at sundown.
It was easy for us to get a taxi to the Central Station.
The next RE1 train carried us to the airport.
Once again, we liked the airport's modern sleekness, but—as usual—confusing signs aggravated many travelers.
Seen below, the sign says "Departures is straight ahead", yet "Check-in is to the right".
At least the security personnel allowed everyone to keep their shoes on. We were thankful for that convenience. Anywhere outside of America's fear-mongering, airports allow passengers to go through Security Checkpoints with their shoes on. Only the USA stupidly requires shoes to be removed, which wastes time, dirties the trays (that airports never disinfect), and causes people's socks to get dirty on the unclean floors.
Alas, while we were in the queue toward the Security Check, when we heard an overhead announcement about a flight to New York. Due to the noise around us, the message was muddled, but it seemed to request those passengers to go to another Security Gate. However, there were no airport employees to ask, and we didn't know how to find that gate... and we didn't want to get off the queue to find out. I used the WiFi to confirm that our plane still departed as scheduled. We finally got through the Security Checkpoint and proceeded to our Departure Gate. That's when we saw another Security Gate with fewer people—perhaps the one that was indicated in the overhead message. The guard correctly assumed that we were Americans going to NYC, and he guided us to pass through that checkpoint.
Mercifully, Norse Air was similar to Finn Air by permitting its passengers to board the aircraft an hour before the departure time. In the USA, passengers must wait in lifeless seating areas until the boarding time. Thus, we got comfortably into our seats an hour before we intended. The senior-level flight crew for the Premier Class popped more champagne and dispensed complimentary "welcome drinks". Lewis and I sipped and smiled at each other. The meals were as nice as our first ones.
The jet landed at JFK, and we enjoyed the shorter processing time to get through the Customs Checkpoint for American Citizens. We looked at the Germans who chose to spend their money on a trip to NYC and knew they would regret many things.
Airports are some of the only places in NYC with a taxi stand, and we rode in an overpriced one—with cramped legroom and uncleaned surfaces—to our condo. In my video below, listen to how the badly-maintained cab clanked and rattled as it took us home—costing a ridiculous amount in America's richest city, yet being a dirty, outdated vehicle...
As seen below, the next day suffered from freezing temperatures—made worse by NYC's gusty windchill. Germany's latitude is farther north than New York City, yet its people enjoyed warmer temperatures, while New Yorkers endured air that felt like 24-degrees Fahrenheit!
When I returned to my job, my tales of German gingerbread prompted coworkers to try to get some. Yet, since America's industrial bakers don't focus on them, my colleagues only found a pumpkin pie (which had similar spices/flavors). Alas, being made in America, it was falsely labeled as "Old Fashioned" but was full of innutritious chemical ingredients.
It's like a third-world country.
It was so frigid that subway riders huddled within the stairwells, instead of waiting on the exposed open-air station platforms.
Why can't American industries do things in wholesome ways like Europe? Why does almost every corporate-made food include corn syrup? *Please use this link to see the food products that are abundant in the USA:
Another comparison was immediately noticeable when Lewis attended a "client relationship" dinner at an elite restaurant, The Fulton, owned by Chef Jean-Georges. Everything was nice until it was time to go home. Since it was within the decrepit City of New York, he and his client avoided the subway—which malfunctions and is rerouted at night. However, since NYC has corrupt taxi drivers, Lewis and his client were unable to hail a taxi for 15 minutes! One taxi paused but kept the doors locked until Lewis stated his destination. The driver didn't want to go there, so he denied Lewis and illegally drove away. Meanwhile, Uber suffered from another network glitch, and its app wouldn't function. Mustering fortitude, Lewis and his client walked through 26-degree air to the Chambers Street subway station, but it was "closed for repair", so they walked for one mile to the next station. Such a terrible conclusion to an expensive night in NYC made Lewis miss Berlin's taxi system. Things like that happen every year and never get better. Problems accumulate, and solutions are resisted because America's attitude is, "If you don't like our shabby conditions, then leave. Many others will replace you."
Such unfixed things reinforce our desire to emigrate to a more substantial nation. As our strategies continued, we decorated our Christmas tree with our German ornaments, and I wore my souvenir sweater! Whenever I wear it, I think fondly of our trip.
We hope that you learned a lot about Germany and its multi-faceted capital. We hope that you are inspired to explore the world. :-)
