I was actually on my way to somewhere else when I passed through Platz der Luftbrücke, so this is a particularly hastily taken picture, but it at least gives you something to look at...
The Platz der Luftbrücke is named to commemorate the Berlin Airlift.
Sometimes the term 'Berlin Wall' is used more symbolically, to refer to the inner-German border between East and West Germany. I've met more than a few people who have been confused about how the whole thing worked geographically, so this would seem to be a good chance to explain that and how the Berlin Airlift came about.
This map from Wikimedia Commons shows the state of Germany at the end of the 1940s. The blue part is West Germany (the purple bit is the Saarland, which was a French protectorate at the time, but became part of West Germany in 1956). The red area is East Germany and the yellow blob in the middle of that is West Berlin, an island in an East German sea, accessible only by three roads, four rail routes and two waterways. It wasn't actually part of the Federal Republic, instead having the status of an occupied city, but was for the most part treated as part of West Germany, with the same laws and the same currency (West Berliners couldn't vote in West German elections, though and also weren't eligible for national service, making Berlin attractive to those opposed to it).
On June 24th 1948, Stalin decided to close the land and water routes into Berlin, provoked by the introduction of the Deutsche Mark in the British, French and American zones, along with the increasing likelihood of the formation of a West German state. Determined not to surrender Berlin, the Americans and British supplied the western sectors of Berlin by air for almost a year, only ending in May 1949 when a new agreement about transit corridors was drawn up.
The building in the background is Tempelhof airport, an American airbase at the time of the Luftbrücke, where many of the planes landed (they also landed at RAF Gatow in the British sector and at a new runway at Tegel in the French sector). Tempelhof was closed in October 2008, though not without some protest due to its part in the Berlin airlift.
It has a darker side to its past though, as the terminal building was built in 1934 to plans by Ernst Sagebiegel as part of the Nazi plans to rebuild Berlin, turning it into "Welthauptstadt Germania" (Welthauptstadt meaning 'world capital'). It can be seen at the top left of this photograph of a model.
It would make an interesting subject for a post in itself, but that'll have to wait for another time...my destination is something else connected with Hitler's plans for Welthaputstadt Germania.
The 'festival of freedom' yesterday was interesting, though not particularly exciting. It rained a lot, too! It was a long night though and quite tiring overall, so I've spent the day so far taking it easy and trying to clear the backlog of things to post here...not that I've succeeded yet! I'll post a full report about the festival of freedom later.
Anyway, it's time for me to get out there before it gets dark...and I think that now the wall has symbolically been knocked down a second time, it's time to take a look at the west.
Update 2013: The watchtower has been bought by a private investor, restored and is now open to the public Tuesday - Sunday, from 11:00 - 16:00, except for when it's raining.
Hidden in a backstreet by Potsdamer Platz, the past is lurking among all the new buildings...
Behind the high concrete wall which faced the west was the death strip, an area of sand (heavily laced with weedkiller so that no plants would grow which could provide cover for escape attempts) and various defences intended to make crossing the area next to impossible. In case anyone still thought it would be a good idea to try - and plenty did - border guards were on the lookout from these watchtowers, on orders to not hesitate to use a firearm if necessary, even if women and children were involved. On the other side of the death strip was another wall.
This particular watchtower was situated outside the death strip, intended for watching people approaching the eastern side of the border. It's actually been moved a few metres to make way for the new buildings here on Erna-Berger-Straße, but it's now a listed monument, the last watchtower of its type (BT-6 for all you watchtower fans out there) still standing in Berlin. This type was designed to give a good view through all 360 degrees around it.
Approaching the tower this time, I noticed that someone had tried to force the metal door open. The lock hadn't given way, but the corner was bent. I turned on the flash on my little camera and stuck it inside to see what I could see.
Not the world's most interesting photo. You can see the metal ladder leading up to the top - a pretty narrow space. They replaced these with larger, square watchtowers later, as it was difficult for the troops to get out quickly if they needed to.
There used to be a small section of the wall remaining on the corner where Erna-Berger-Straße meets Stresemannstraße. It's gone now, unfortunately, so this watchtower is now all that remains of the traces of the border in this area.
The area surrounding the Brandenburg Gate swarmed with umbrella monsters as the Fest der Freiheit (Festival of Freedom) got underway. These vicious beasts may look pretty, but will take out an eye without any hesitation...ducking down underneath them seemed to be the safest way to get through the crowd.
While 20 years ago, nobody knew what was about to happen and the gathering at the Brandenburg Gate was completely spontaneous, people have had plenty of notice about this event, so the crowds have been gathering all afternoon.
There were 1000 of these giant dominoes, painted by artists from around the world.
They had been placed along the route of the wall, all the way from Potsdamer Platz to the Reichstag - one of the most famous parts of the wall's course, thanks to the symbolism of the Brandenburg Gate as a gate that led to nowhere. A popular postcard shows a picture of the gate from the western side, the sign in front of the wall warning "Sie verlassen jetzt West Berlin" (you are now leaving West Berlin), with graffiti asking "Wie denn?" (how?). In fact, just by approaching the wall, as it often stood slightly inside the East German border (sometimes there were even small corners which were too tricky to wall around, so were just ignored, leaving small triangles of East Berlin on the western side of the wall).
There was music from the Staatskapelle Berlin (conducted by Daniel Barenboim), Adoro, Bon Jovi, Stamping Feet and Paul van Dyk (who had written a song for the occasion). There were also speeches from Klaus Wowereit (mayor of Berlin), Angela Merkel, Nicolas Sarkozy, Dmitry Medvedev, Gordon Brown, Hilary Clinton (and, via a prerecorded message, Barack Obama)...then a whole procession of others, all important figures in the history leading up to the fall of the wall. Stood in the rain, the speeches hard to hear, people began to get impatient. One Berliner woman summed up the mood fairly well when she said "Mach zu!" (get on with it) - she just wanted to see the dominoes fall. Others yelled "Mauer muss weg!" - the wall must go, echoing the cries of protesters 20 years ago. I think the problem was that it felt like we were watching a TV programme (which we couldn't hear too well) rather than being involved in an event, a stark contrast to the spontaneous celebrations of November 1989, which was very much a case of the people engaging with the spirit of the moment.
Still, the dominoes was a nice idea and it was fun when they finally fell (in sections - the first from the Reichstag to the Brandenburg Gate, the second from Potsdamer Platz to the Brandenburg Gate and the third around the Brandenburg Gate itself).
Once they'd come down, the area cleared fairly quickly. I headed towards Potsdamer Platz to catch the late night supermarket...and to visit something else wall related...
This is where Malmöer Straße meets Bornholmer Straße:
Twenty years ago, there was a border crossing point here, stretching from Malmöer Straße to the Bösebrücke, the bridge which crosses the S-Bahn tracks.
Around this time, it would have seemed like a normal day to anyone approaching the checkpoint, or indeed even anyone working there. East German secretary for information Günter Schabowski was still preparing for his press conference in the international press centre in East Berlin. Even he wasn't completely prepared for what happened next. At just before 19:00 on the evening of November 9th 1989, he answered a question by an Italian journalist about new travel regulations, mentioning that it had been decided that day to make it be possible for citizens to leave the GDR by any of the border crossings. Another journalist asked when this would come into effect. Hesitating and shuffling through papers, under pressure for an answer by the journalists assembled there, he eventually said "That comes into effect, according to my information, immediately, without delay."
Once East Berliners heard this, they flocked to the border crossing points. In fact, the policy Schabowski had announced was supposed to have been introduced at 4 the next morning. The border guards hadn't yet been informed; the people took them by surprise. Confusion reigned, but the people continued gathering; the crossing point at Bornholmer Straße was the first in Berlin to give in to pressure and open its gates.
This plaque commemorates the event:
You can see the Bösebrücke on the right of the picture. Once people were across that, they were in West Berlin.
I passed a woman who was talking with a couple of German tourists. "We were so happy" she said, "we all wanted to go and take a look."
Some parts of Berlin seem to be swarming with news crews now, others are swarming with foreign tourists too, while some are curiously quiet. The main event is happening down at the Brandenburg Gate...which is where I'm headed now...more updates later!
You'll see Imbißbuden (snack bars) like this all over Berlin. They normally sell various types of sausage (Wurst), chips (Pommes - that is, French fries) and various other snack foods.
When I say you'll see ones like this, I don't mean exactly like this, because this one is special. This is Berlin's oldest Imbiß, tracing its roots back to 1930, when Max Konnopke set up a stall with a sausage boiler and a folding table and started selling sausages to the public. Konnopke's Imbiß is now something of a legend in Berlin. Legendary above all other things it sells is the Currywurst:
This actually traces its roots back to another Imbiß in Charlottenburg, where Herta Heuwer started experimenting with ingredients she'd got from British soldiers in 1949. Mixing tomato paste, worcestershire sauce and curry powder (amongst other things), she created what she called Chillup sauce; pouring it liberally over a sliced fried sausage, the currywurst was born.
The recipe for Konnopke's sauce is as much of a secret than Herta Heuwer's was - it's never left the family since Max's wife Charlotte Konnopke developed it.
Currywurst in Berlin is made with a special sausage, finely minced like a Bockwurst, but with a softer texture. Currywurst is also made in other parts of Germany, but usually made with a Bratwurst (if you happen to be in London, Kurz & Lang in Spitalfields make a version with Bratwurst). Some places selling berliner currywurst will offer it both "mit Darm" and "ohne Darm". Darm actually means intestine, but this has nothing to do with whether you want a serving of intestines with it - Darm here refers to the sausage skin. The version 'mit Darm' (with skin) is crisper on the outside - more knackig to use a German word! Knackig is difficult to translate in the context of sausages (dictionaries will normally translate it as 'crunchy' or 'crisp'), but if you imagine what it's like biting into a crisp-skinned, juicy sausage, you'll probably get the idea of what's meant.
Looking at this, you could be forgiven for thinking that it was West Berlin in the 1980s. The wall became famous for the graffiti that covered the western side - including things like these heads by Thierry Noir, which you'll often see on postcards and other pictures from the time (he's briefly shown painting the wall in Wim Wenders's film Wings of Desire too).
This, however, is not the western side but the eastern side - the East Side Gallery to be precise! A group of artists painted this section of wall - the longest still standing, at 1.3km/0.8mi - in 1990. It's remained ever since and has just been repainted - not without some controversy, though, as some artists weren't happy with the idea of it being erased and them having to start again. It was getting very flaky and - perhaps ironically - graffiti strewn, though, so I don't really blame them for wanting to restore it.
Some of the artists are still at work. This is Italian artist Fulvio Pinna:
With all the tourists flocking round to take a look, it felt a bit like a zoo.
Someone even offered him a banana...
The first time I came to the East Side Gallery, in December 2001, there was barely anyone walking along this stretch of road at all. That certainly wasn't the case today though - it was positively crawling with tourists and news journalists.
As you'll know already, I'm not a big fan of anywhere that has too many tourists per square metre and this was definitely way over my threshold, so it was time to get going. On the way towards Ostbahnhof, I saw something which made me think of the GDR...
This is definitely not a scene you'd have come across in the days before the wall fell. Bananas (and other 'Südfrüchte' - southern, that is, tropical fruits) were scarce and I doubt anyone would have valued them so little as to leave them lying by the road. Even if someone didn't want something, they'd often realise that it had a value as something to trade - some people talk of joining queues outside shops long before they found out what it was they were queueing for, because they knew that it must be something desirable which, at the very least, could be traded for something desirable which they actually wanted.
I didn't much fancy my chances of trading these bananas for anything useful though (especially if I'd said I'd found them by the road), so I left them for the next person...perhaps someone will try feeding them to Fulvio Pinna.
Karl Marx Allee was East Berlin's first big building project, planned as "Berlin's first socialist street", with building work beginning in 1952.
The street was originally called Große Frankfurter Straße (and, further towards the east, Frankfurter Allee), but renamed Stalinallee on December 21st 1949, for Stalin's 70th birthday. Stalin fell out of favour after his death and, in a process of de-Stalinisation initiated by Soviet premier Nikita Khruschev, it was renamed Karl Marx Allee, the eastern portion reverting to Frankfurter Allee.
It was built in two main stages - one between 1952 and 1961, eastwards from Strausberger Platz and the other from 1959 to 1965, between Strausberger Platz and Alexanderplatz . There was a third, when two blocks of modernist styled housing was built in 1949 - 1950 to plans by Ludmilla Herzenstein, an associate of Hans Scharoun, who had suggested a plan for the development of the whole city. This style of architecture was denounced as too western, however, and the rest of Stalinallee was constructed in what was seen to be a more fittingly socialist style.
I find the 1952 segment particularly striking - while the later segment of the street has a lot in common with East German architecture in other parts of the city, the ornate Soviet wedding cake style of the earlier segment was abandoned for future developments, partly for economic reasons and partly no doubt because of its association with Stalin.
We start at Strausberger Platz.
The day is grey as only a day in Berlin can be. The Fernsehturm is once again shrouded in mist. There's something bringing colour to the day, though...the Ampelmännchen!
Everything along Karl Marx Allee is listed (in German, the term is Denkmalschutz - monumental protection), even these street lights:
Also, see how ornate the detailing is on the building behind it. All the buildings from this phase of building are clad in ceramic tiles, many of them from Meißen, a town famous for its ceramics. Some of them show scenes of workers engaged in various activities. Stalinallee was planned as an antithesis to the run down working class areas of capitalist Berlin before the war, a showpiece rather than somewhere to be ashamed of. The working classes were, under communism, something to be praised (and glorified) rather than pushed out to the edges of the city where they couldn't be seen.
This is something that's evident in the planning of East Berlin in general - there's housing everywhere, even right in the heart of the city and not vast, 'luxury apartments' for the insanely wealthy, but ordinary flats for ordinary people. Even now, a lot of them are surprisingly affordable.
The buildings are so monumental in scale that they're quite difficult to photograph in their entirety, but this should give you some idea.
I find it fascinating how you'll see a whole different set of people around here to those around, say, Unter den Linden (the main street running east - west through the city centre). It certainly feels like it's quite a long way off the beaten track as far as tourism is concerned, which is strange in a way, as it's usually mentioned in guide books. It's clearly not somewhere that many coach tours stop, though, which is something I'm actually quite glad of. Though it would be nice to think that tourists are getting a comprehensive overview of the city, there's something nice about the slightly lonely atmosphere on Karl Marx Allee which coach parties would totally wreck.
This is one of the towers at Frankfurter Tor...and look, there's a Trabbi! The Trabant was East Germany's most popular car, though they were in short supply - it could take 15 years between ordering one and receiving it. This one is taking people on a tour, which I think fits the atmosphere a lot better than coach tours!
The towers at Frankfurter Tor were designed by Hermann Henselmann, along with the towers at Strausberger Platz (and the Hochhaus an der Weberwiese, just off Karl Marx Allee). He also designed a lot of other buildings in East Berlin, though he was a modernist at heart, so reverted to that style in all his later buildings.
Even if parts of Karl Marx Allee feel like a sort of time capsule, others definitely don't - this McDonald's being a case in point. I didn't go inside - there's something far more interesting over the road...
The "Kaffee und Tee" (coffee and tea) sign on this café is quite a typical GDR era one. There are quite a few shops along Karl Marx Allee with signs like it. The café's interior is panelled with wood laminates (from what I can tell, it's some kind of particle board underneath) which look like they're probably from the 50s, while the ceiling has a wood lattice covering most of it.
The furniture is a curious mix of all sorts, as you can see! This is definitely quite representative of the more trendy, slightly subversive culture that can be found in parts of Berlin, something which I find a lot more fun than Berlin's more conventional side, which can be seen in places like Potsdamer Platz. There are more slightly alternative cafés and bars further along the road (which becomes Frankfurter Allee at this point). Definitely a place to come and take a look at...just don't bring your coach party with you.