Naughty Days & Nights in Berlin

Berlin / Go Night
en von Spreebound /  William Thirteen, 8. Jan 2010


Photo: BoyWithCigar

As long anyone can remember, Berlin's been a city of dark and seductive glamour, the mere mention of its name bringing on visions of vice, abandon and sensual indulgence. The legendary late night extravagances of the Weimar era city were immortalized by Christopher Isherwood in the stories which would later become the film Cabaret, which established the city's reputation as Babylon on the Spree. The Golden Twenties ended with a political catastrophe but, despite twelve years in power and their vain attempts to clamp down on Berlin's libertinism, the Nazi's would leave little more behind than new drag for the already packed closets of the city's uniform fetishists. Later, during its years of post-war division the walled city became a magnet for sexual adventurers, a concrete cage serving the carnal appetites of pleasure seekers from around the world.

Today Berlin is a victim of its own success, the sexual liberation and libertinism pioneered here can now be found in almost every European city, and visitors to the German capital are more likely to be patronizing its modern art, music and fashion scenes rather than its more prurient pleasures. But those seeking a bit of erotic adventure won't have to venture far from the banks of the Spree to find a bit of the Babylon that made the city a libidinous legend. Here are few spots to start with:

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Spreebound

7 Lesser Known Berlin Sites Of Remembrance

Berlin / Go See
en von Spreebound /  William Thirteen, 29. Dez 2009

Every city has its unique product - its main attraction.  Detroit has automobiles, Paris fashion, and Tokyo noodles. Berlin has history - and plenty of it. Unfortunately, much of this history is monstrous and tragic. I can barely walk down any street in this city without coming across a plaque, marker or memorial remembering those lost to the cruelties of Berlin's unique history. Every journey across town becomes a journey through the darkest days of the twentieth century.

All this history is really a bit exhausting and overwhelming. Around every corner and down every street I am constantly confronted with some of the worst chapters of Western Civilization. But this struggle to remember, to remember the victims, the perpetrators and those who resisted is all part of 'Vergangenheitsbewältigung' the German word for the process of coming to grips with the past. And, while this process is discomforting, enraging and saddening, it is only by engaging in it that we may regain our common humanity and develop the courage and determination to prevent such catastrophes in the future.

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Spreebound

Christmas Market Magic

Berlin / Go Shop
en von Spreebound /  William Thirteen, 1. Dez 2009

It's that time of year again in Berlin; the skies are cold and damp, darkness falls early, stays late, and you can't swing a dead cat around here without hitting a Christmas market.  One of the city's most loved holiday traditions; the markets are a time-honored way to lighten the gloom of Berlin's long December nights. This week I tried my luck at a 'traditional' Weihnachtsmarkt in front of Schloss Charlottenburg, on the far side of town.

Even from a distance the market glows invitingly, the twinkling bulbs of the Christmas trees framing the royal palace, festively painted with holiday colors. Crowded with merrymakers of every age wandering along the rows of wooden huts and rustic cabins, the palace's normally staid front lawn takes on the appearance of the small alpine village of Christmas fantasy.

The tiny sizes of the huts belie the wealth of goods they offer. I could have knocked out a good part of my Christmas list had I been in the mood, but I'm an unrepentant last minute shopper so i just browsed through, taking in the holiday cheer, the children's joyful shrieks as they whirled around the antique Christmas carousel or miniature Ferris wheel, and their wide-eyed wonder at the endless selection of toys and trinkets.

There’s plenty to tempt older children like me too. The vendors were laying out long rows of woolen gloves and scarves, fashionable felt hats, hand carved nativity scenes, and holiday house decorations. The stuffed shopping bags and cash changing hands confirm that this tiny alpine village is a one stop shop for every holiday need.

And then there are the edibles - lots and lots of edibles. Eating and drinking is a central part of the Christmas market experience and long lines of red noses circle cabins offering every sort of goulash, grilled beast and, this being Germany, a multitude of wursts. Bloodwursts, Bratwursts and Bockwursts are turning and burning on the grill and, though not a big meat eater, I waited in line like everyone else. There are few things that can warm the belly on a chill winter evening better than a smoked bratwurst slathered in mustard and washed down with a steaming mug of Glühwein, that sweet, warm, intoxicating brew that, as its name implies, adds an extra glow to every Christmas market. Afterwards I treated myself to a paper sac full of hot roasted chestnuts to keep that holiday warmth all the way home.

There are still a couple of weeks to go before the big day and I’m planning to make my way to a few more Christmas markets.  There’s the trendy Weihnachtszauber on the Gendarmenmarkt, the hipster market in Prenzlauer Berg's Kulturbrauerei, the proletarian market at Alexanderplatz with its ice skating rink, and even a Hanukkah Market at the Jewish Museum.  With so many to choose from I'll be able to keep the winter blues at bay and find plenty to marvel at while contemplating the true gifts of this holiday season.

Herausgeber
Spreebound

Meandering with Marx In Berlin

Berlin / Go See
en von Spreebound /  William Thirteen, 19. Nov 2009


Photo: Doratagold

Berlin's position as Germany's capital has been the source of much difficulty down the decades, as every new regime attempts to remake the city after its own ideological design. The 19th century Kaisers with their proliferating palaces and Hitler & Speer's grotesque 'Germania' - a megalomaniacal reimagining of Berlin in the style of fascist monumentalism, are but two examples of the compulsion which seizes those who take up the reins of power. After WWII Berlin saw another episode of this regime rebuilding when the East German authorities, following cues from Moscow, decided to clear away acres of war-ruined 19th century housing and build a tribute to their new dictatorship of the proletariat.

To be fair, the construction was necessary measure to provide housing for Berlin’s bombed out citizens and similar projects were undertaken in the city’s western sectors.  But it was here, on the newly christened Stalinallee (renamed Karl-Marx-Allee in 1961), that East Germany’s propaganda machinery took full advantage of the reconstruction in an attempt to demonstrate the superiority of the young socialist regime.

Beginning at Strausberger Platz, home to a fine bust of Karl Marx, down to the twin domes of Frankfurter Tor and back, I walked the wide boulevard this past weekend, taken with the fanciful eight storey 'worker’s palaces', shining examples of Stalinist socialist classicism.

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Spreebound

Listening with the Devil's Ears in Berlin

Berlin / Go See
en von Spreebound /  William Thirteen, 3. Nov 2009


Photo: Cbmd

As the days grow shorter and Berlin's trees take on their Autumn colors I've been spending more time out of doors exploring the city's natural surroundings. With two rivers, dozens of lakes and countless acres of woodlands, Berlin is one of Europe's greenest cities, and a few minutes of strenuous pedalling in almost any direction will be rewarded with a leafy picnic spot or a sandy bank from which to watch the sun set. But the city's traumatic history casts its long shadow across even its greenest environs, a fact I encountered again this past weekend when I made a trip out to Teufelsberg, Berlin's "Devil's Mountain".

Out of the Forest of History

Cycling westward, out past the Olympic Stadium where Jesse Owens claimed his four golds in 1936, a short turn away from Heerstrasse's Sunday traffic brought me to the base of one of the city's strangest spots. Teufelsberg is a manmade mountain, created from twelve million cubic meters of rubble - the rubble of Berlin's bomb-blasted buildings carted out to the city's border and dumped over the ruins of a Nazi-era military college on the edge of the Grunewald forest. Forming one of the area's highest hills this artificial geology was soon reclaimed by nature and subsumed beneath native trees and grasses.



Though the trail was wide the hill's steep grade forced me off my bike. As as I hiked out of the treeline I finally saw what had drawn me, and dozens of others, here on this chilly afternoon. During Berlin's Cold War division Teufelsberg lay in the British Sector and the Western Allies quickly realized it was splendid for spying upon communist East Berlin's electronic communications. So the US National Security Agency fenced off the mountain's peak and installed one of their largest listening stations, a half dozen radio domes sprouting from the top of the hill like massive malevolent mushrooms. The Cold War is now history, but those eerie domes still dominate Teufelsberg's skyline and exert a powerful pull on locals and visitors alike.

A Porous Perimeter


Photo: Viernullvier

Despite its closure after German reunification the listening station is still fenced off and entrance is strictly prohibited. However, a short walk along the perimeter revealed a hole snipped through the fence, one of several through which daytrippers creep to wander around the abandoned compound.


Photo: Schrottie

Though first relieved not to be roaming the grounds alone, I was soon amazed by the dozens of fellow curiousity seekers nosing about. I made my way past the broken windows of the empty security offices and toward the main building, whose remaining walls display an impressive amount of street art and rainbows of graffiti.



After threading my way up a narrow stairway I stepped out onto the main platform, decaying domes on either side as I gazed out across Berlin's cityscape. I could easily see all the way to Alexanderplatz with its iconic TV Tower and I quickly understood why NSA loved this place. More visitors had now climbed the stairs to emerge on the platform and we exchanged smiles and greetings as we snapped photos and admired the view. The radar domes themselves have been cut open in dozens of places, victims of souvenir hunters, but their strange magic remained, as constant as the strong breeze blowing over the platform.

Penthouse for Paranoids


Photo: Jordi Torà

I again gathered my courage and curiousity and climbed the darkened stairway up the five floors to the highest dome. Here the souvenir hunters must have met their match, as the dome was in perfect condition, with only a single doorway admitting light into the darkened interior. The acoustics were also uncanny, even minute sounds were amplified by the spherical shape and visitors reacted by speaking in whispers.

The resulting hush, along with splashes of graffiti the color of stained glass, produced an oddly religious atmosphere, the dome a church of some alien creed. I spent some time contemplating the fate of this structure, first created and then abandoned by the vagaries of Berlin's unique history. Afterwards I carefully made my way back down through the ruined structures to the more stable, if no less artificial, grounds of the mountain itself. Climbing back through the fence and onto my bicycle, I was soon drifting downhill and back into the shadows of those trees which would someday reclaim even this last strange crown of Devil's Mountain.

Herausgeber
Spreebound
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