Berlin
We spent a wonderful five days (but could have done without the pollen allergies) in Berlin over the Easter long weekend. I’d never been there, and was duly impressed…a big city that is very accessible (thanks to great public transport), has lots of great food at good prices (we mostly ate “typically German” Thai and other South-East Asian food ;-), is very “arty” with a broad assortment of galleries and museums, is in touch with its history (interpret this as you wish) and has loads exciting architecture. Hmm…sounds a lot like Barcelona, except we don’t have such an abundance (and low price) of Thai and other South-East Asian food.
We saw many of the “required” Berlin elements… Brandenburg Gate, Reichstag (outside only; line-ups were too big and we were too late reserving — busy Easter weekend — for an inside tour), memorial to the victims of the Holocaust, Tiergarten park, Pergamon museum with its incredible displays of Greek, Babylonian and Muslim art and architecture, Potsdamer Platz (the dramatic new Sony centre), Topography of Terror, Berlin Wall, Checkpoint Charlie (we didn’t explicitly go to see it, as it’s a real tourist trap, but we did pass by), various churches, Kunsthaus Tacheles (artist colony/”squat”), various markets, beer gardens, brewpubs…
Not to mention Potsdam, Sanssouci park and its palaces, … Oh yes, more UNESCO World Heritage sites to check off the list (ha ha; as if I’m so casual and humdrum).
I found Berlin’s war memorial very powerful and moving…
A highlight for me was something most tourists don’t see: a guided visit to the private collection of Christian “I collect art that I don’t understand” Boros. The collection is housed inside a remarkable building called “The Bunker”, which was built during WWII as a bomb shelter for 2000 people living in the area (and folks from the nearby train station). It survived two direct hits during the Allied bombardment (in those days you could survive to say that, when your roof was made of three metres of reinforced high-grade concrete).
Later, the bunker was occupied by the Soviets and then was used as a prison for the German secret police. Eventually it was used to store tropical fruit (at this stage of life it was nicknamed the “banana bunker”). After reunification, it became home to rowdy techno and fetish parties, all while geting “dolled up” by graffiti artists. It eventually (in 2003) was purchased by the wealthy advertising mogul Boros, renovated (with a careful eye to preserving its history) and given a new life as a private gallery. It can only be visited on weekends by private appointment (I booked several months ahead, and it was already nearly booked up).
The building was exciting, and the many art pieces on display inside were also well worth a look (and controversial, in some cases). It helped to have a wonderful guide talk to us in detail about the artists and their works. While I discovered many artists I hadn’t previously known, I particularly enjoyed a good number of works by Olafur Eliasson. The Boros Bunker hasn’t been open long, and their plan is to change the collection on display annually (seems Boros owns much more than one bunker’s-worth of art). It’s definitely worth seeing if you’re interested in history and/or contemporary art (or what very wealthy people do with their money).
Line-ups
In other news, last week I finally finished jumping through the multifarious hoops and received confirmation of my residency renovation. Yesterday, in the final phase of this process, I went back (read about my previous visit) to the comisaría on Balmes with my carefully checked and re-checked set of originals and photocopies of various documents, plus carnet-sized photos. In spite of arriving before they opened, I enjoyed a huge line-up that wrapped around three sides of the block (probably about 200m long; aka over two hundred individuals or families). After that, almost four hours waiting (first in line on the street, then in the police courtyard (in a cordoned-off area of a noisy parking garage full of chairs and exhaust fumes), finally inside the building with a new sequence number). At last, it’s all done — best of all, I won’t have to do this again for two years, this time!
It’s not that I expected to have my application denied, but nonetheless “you never know until you know,” and it’s a relief to have it all sorted (a full month after my previous residency expired). Now I just have to go back (to a different police station) in a month to pick up my new residency card — after paying yet another processing fee of course. I’m not complaining (much); I have things better than lots of people, that’s for sure. As I like to say: I may not be welcome, but at least I’m approved.