Berlin - Day 5

Up and out. I outlined our plans to the hotel Buddy Bear and he couldn't contain his excitement:

Onto Friedrichstasse, where this building on a side street fascinated me every time we saw it:

To the Brandenburg Gate, which was somewhat more appealing than it had been in the drizzle a couple of days before:

A quick walk round the corner for me to get another look at the architecture of the British Embassy. When we had visited before I was so busy taking in the high security, the blocked road, etc, and then getting a picture of Amanda, that I had been completely oblivious to anything else, including these interesting design features:

Moving on to the Reichstag. Rear view:

Slightly off-set front view:

We quickly found the booking kiosk - a small Portacabin across the street - and found that there were indeed tickets on sale for the next 48 hours, with a constantly updated display showing how many were available in each one-hour slot. We could have visited that day, but that would have meant that we would have been constrained with respect to how far we could venture before our admission time, so elected to book for 12.30 the next day.

As a rule I don't tend to subscribe to the view that all American tourists abroad are loud, vexatious and arrogant; most of the Americans I have met have been fairly reserved, polite and sensitive to their environment. Such a pity then, that while we waited in line to book our admission, we found ourselves behind a couple that fitted the more popular stereotype to a T. It quickly became clear that they were part of a larger group of around six. They seemed to know that to register for admission to the Reichstag they would each need some form of photo ID, so made much of gathering together all their passports. A few steps further along the line and the penny dropped that it wouldn't be sufficient for the two in the line to hand over six passports - they would each have to present their own and have their identity confirmed.

At least four courses of action were then open to them:

• the four not in the line could have retrieved their passports and joined the end of the line (which was only about a dozen people behind us), 
• they could all have withdrawn and joined the end of the line, 
• the two in line could have turned to us and politely asked if we minded if their four companions joined them,
• the four not in line could simply have ducked under the guide rope and joined those in line without so much as a glance at the rest of us.

There are no prizes for guessing which option they chose...

More bemused than annoyed, I stood reflecting on the concepts of manifest destiny and American exceptionalism. Then - shock horror - one of the party discovered that his passport was actually back at the hotel (never mind that German law requires you to carry photo ID with you at all times). No matter - he would run back and get it while the others held his place...

Of course, in the event, those in the queue reached the head of it before he had returned, so of course their expectation was that the rules would be bent and they would be allowed to register his presence, and he would be allowed to present his ID when he got back.

I have no idea how that suggestion panned out, because by then we were standing at a parallel desk and making our own booking. However, two of the party stood just inside the door of the small Portacabin holding a loud conversation, which was sufficient to distract and annoy the young lady who was dealing with us (in fluent English, probably her third or fourth language). They were asked in no uncertain terms to vacate the room and hold their conversation outside. There was a loud and somewhat pointed "Oh!" from one of the miscreants and they disappeared - probably to tell TripAdvisor how rude and officious the Germans are...

The booking made, we continued on our way.

Not far from the Brandenburg Gate, a fairly self-explanatory plaque in the pavement:

Our initial plan had been to explore some of the Tiergarten, but for some reason we had both expected it to be somewhat more open, whereas the vast majority of what we could see was woodland - which tends to look the same in any language.

Accordingly, we decided to walk along the Strasse des 17 Juni, which bisects the park, and take a closer look at the Siegessäule, which we had only seen in the distance until now.

The first port of call was Soviet War Memorial (Tiergarten), one of many to the 80,000+ Soviet soldiers killed in the Battle for Berlin:

One of the two T34 tanks that flank the memorial. It is said that these were the first two tanks to enter Berlin, but this seems unlikely, given the size and confusion of the conflict:

There are around 2000 soldiers buried at the memorial, with the names of individual senior officers being inscribed on the main monument:

We walked further along Strasse des 17 Juni, taking photos in each direction from the central reservation:

This lady and I went head-to-head over which of us would move first and let the other get a clear shot down the road. In the end I decided to be chivalrous and took my picture with her present, leaving the view clear for her:

A memorial to the victims of the Berlin Wall:

Close up, the Siegessäule was impressive; however, having previously seen the city from the Fernsehturm we were not bothered about hauling ourselves up the 285 steps inside.

Instead, we hooked left along Hofjägerallee and paused at the junction with Tiergartenstrasse to look at the memorial to the Élysée Treaty:

Along Klingelhöferstraße and we arrived at our next destination - the Bauhaus Archive.

First things first - refreshments:

and then a look round.

The archive on display was quite modest, but the temporary exhibition by Jasper Morrison, Thingness was, in spite of its slightly up-itself name, very interesting. It was also frustrating in equal measure - never before in a museum or gallery, I think, have I ever felt so tempted to reach out and touch and engage with the exhibits (none of which we could photograph).

Outside, for a quick picture of the building:

and then on to our next objective - the Gemäldegalerie.

On the way, it was impossible to miss the war-time bullet and shrapnel damage to nearby buildings:

Unfortunately, after a (thankfully fairly rare) failure in planning, we arrived at the gallery to find that it was closed on a Monday.

More walking, past Tiergartenstraße 4, and Aktion T4 - a memorial to the 360,000 souls murdered by the Nazis under the term of  'euthanasia':

On, and past the Berliner Philharmonie, venue for Friday night's concert:

For the benefit of little friends I also insisted on getting my picture taken with the Lego giraffe:

I'm not entirely sure what Spiderman was doing in the foyer of the Film and Television Museum:

Exhausted, we took a break:

Grateful and sincere thanks to our sweet and very young waitress, who rushed after us because I had left my cap behind when we left.

Out, and along Voßstraße until we found our final destination of the day:

This unprepossessing car park and scrubby grass is the site (and all that is left visible) of Hitler's bunker complex.

A simple noticeboard gives details of the layout:

Back to the apartment, tired and footsore.

After regrouping, we decided to check out another of the restaurants that, back in the UK, I had identified as worth visiting. Thankfully close by, Meisterstueck featured quirky and eclectic decor:

and was built around a small courtyard (seen behind Amanda), overlooked by numerous neighbouring office buildings:

Given that the principal fare (sausages) are cooked on an open barbecue in the restaurant, and the scent wafts through and out into the courtyard, how anyone in the nearby buildings can concentrate on anything other than eating after about 17.00 is beyond me.

I chose a 'Thüringen sausage with luke-warm potato salad' and a basket of mixed bread, while Amanda opted for 'six (somewhat smaller) Nürnberger sausages with sauerkraut and a baked potato'.

After this Amanda declared herself too full for anything but a coffee, but I was intrigued by a sweet called 'Chocolate and Chocolate' - which turned out to be chocolate mousse, chocolate ice cream and a chocolate brownie - accompanied by whipped cream...

Thankfully for the sake of my cholesterol level, this was off-set by a thin slice of what appeared to be a healthy fruit-like substance, and which later research revealed to be pitaya or dragon fruit:

Back to the apartment, and preparing for our last day.

Berlin - Day 4

Up, and surveying the day outside. For the first time since we arrived the forecast was good, and there were no signs of rain.

Amanda watching the Welt balloon, which we had seen tethered on the ground on our first day:

While we were in Berlin it was being used to advertise the Samsung Land of Emoji's - yet another of today's obsessions, the popularity of which has passed me by:

On some days the balloon was a constant presence in the sky, ascending and descending with groups of tourists on board. On others, it remained firmly tethered, with the weather making it too risky to take off. Of course, they don't always get it right. Scary stuff - not the clip, but the fact that I used the Daily Mail web site...

Out, and heading to the Gendarmenmarkt. On the way, I was suddenly made acutely aware of the importance of typography in branding; from just these last few letters of the word 'Berlin' on a building frontage I immediately knew that it was a Hilton Hotel, such was the distinctive nature of the lettering. Amanda thought I was mad, but that's nothing new:

and she remained her usual patient self:

The Französischer Dom:

The Konzerthaus:

The Deutscher Dom:

The Welt balloon provided a useful reference point:

for those looking in the right direction:

A plaque in the Gendarmenmarkt showing where Søren Kierkegaard lived during his stay in Berlin:

Another short walk and we arrived at Bebelplatz. Along one side stands the magnificent former Alte Bibliothek, now the home of the Humboldt University law faculty. This composite doesn't really do justice to the building, which is referred to as a 'Kommode' in the local parlance, given its similarity to a bow-fronted chest of drawers:

In 1933, Bebelplatz was the site of the infamous Nazi book burning, and this plaque set in the cobbles commemorates this:

Across Bebelplatz to the main buildings of Humboldt University.  Again, a composite photo barely does justice to the grandeur of the building:

Across Unter den Linden, carefully avoiding being run over by this magnificent beast:

and pausing on the 'island' mid-way across to snatch this shot of the distant Brandenburg Gate, and the top of the even more distant Siegessäule, topped by the statue of Victoria:

and this of Frederick the Great:

Looking back across Unter den Linden to the Berlin State Opera:

Into the forecourt of the University, where I got to tell a quantum theory joke:

Q: Why did Heisenberg take the bus to work?

A: He knew the exact momentum of his car keys...

Max Planck thought it was funny - he could barely stand up for laughing:

Across the courtyard, another photo-op - this time with Helmholtz:

It's a laugh a minute on the "Theoretical Physics Tour of Berlin":

A glimpse of our destination:

We could have taken a Trabi Safari, like these folk:

The James Simon Gallery - see also here; bet no one ever called this a carbuncle...

The I.M. Pei - designed extension to the Deutsches Historisches Museum; I wish we had had more time to explore this:

Our first proper view of the Berliner Dom:

Off to one side, the Altes Museum:

The inside of the cathedral dome:

Again, this composite hardly does justice to the internal beauty of the building:

In a number of locations we saw these screaming figurines:

which are explained thus:

Into the basement cafeteria for sustaining Apfelschorle and cheesecake:

and where Amanda took a shine to this light fitting:

Heading out, and we could see our destination - the Fernsehturm, just beyond St Mary's Church or Marienkirche:

An interesting juxtaposition of the two buildings:

We were about to cross the street at a corner pedestrian crossing when we saw a couple of police motorcyclists pull up and announce, through their loudspeakers, that whatever the lights indicated, we should all wait on the pavement and let the traffic pass.

The 'traffic' consisted of dozens of cars , and then hundreds of bicycles, all trailing blue balloons and signs wishing happy birthday to 'Deniz', and all honking horns, ringing bells and blowing Klaxons at maximum volume:

Later research revealed that the Deniz in question was Deniz Yücel, a German-Turkish journalist imprisoned for espionage in Turkey since February. The parade was to let him and others know that he had not been forgotten, especially on his birthday.

The parade continued for quite some minutes, and towards the end, the police outriders had moved on, with those pedestrians who had been there from the beginning still heeding their instructions and waiting on the kerb and others - well - not. As a result, this short one-act-one-scene play took place in front of us:

Dramatis Personae:

• EPSMFPAOTWGC - Elderly, Probably Sausage-Munching Former Prussian Army Officer Type With Greying Crewcut

• PC - Parade Cyclist

• PV - Pugilistic Videographer

• PB - Pacific Bystander

EPSMFPAOTWGC approaches the far side of the junction, sees that the lights are green for pedestrians and walks out into the road, ignoring all the cyclists approaching him at speed.

EPSMFPAOTWGC gets nearly to our side of the road and is then almost in collision with PC.

EPSMFPAOTWGC shouts, swears and gesticulates at PC, letting him know in no uncertain terms that he (EPSMFPAOTWGC) has the right to cross the road.

PC returns the shouting and gesticulating but continues to try to keep moving, conscious of the vast number of similar cyclists approaching at speed behind him.

PV, sensing a story for the six o'clock news, rushes over and starts to film the confrontation.

EPSMFPAOTWGC turns his attention to PV, and this time comes out swinging.

PV, balancing a couple of thousand Euros' worth of video camera on his left shoulder, looks set to start trading punches.

PB jumps between EPSMFPAOTWGC and PV and pushes them apart, remonstrating with both and trying to keep the peace.

EPSMFPAOTWGC lets his guard down as a result, and PV catches him with a roundhouse (but which fortunately only just connected).

PV then rushes back across the road and EPSMFPAOTWGC disappears into the crowd - much to your correspondent's relief, as any continuation of the spat would probably have required intervention from me, with all the difficulties of translation that would have involved.

We reached Alexanderplatz and made our way to the base of the tower. An information screen told us that there would be a wait of up to one hour between getting tickets and gaining access to the viewing platform; a quick conversation with a security guard confirmed that once we had our tickets we could spend that intervening time as we wished, with our admission times being updated on nearby screens.

We sat outside for a while, seeing no sign of the violence that had broken out earlier that weekend.

Aside: The TV tower was constructed not only for the transmission of TV and radio signals, but also as a demonstration of the strength and technological prowess of the (secular) GDR. Much amusement was then caused by the fact that at certain times of day, the reflection of the sun in the largely glass-encased sphere at the top creates a large bright cross in the sky.

As our admission time approached we moved inside and your correspondent waited with a bear behind:

An express lift then conveyed us to the viewing platform in a matter of seconds, and we then began to get a different perspective on many of the things we had already seen, and a few others:

The Town Hall or Rotes Rathaus:

I loved the splashes of colour on these three apartment blocks:

The Old Town Hall or Altes Stadthaus:

The Reichstag, complete with dome, in the distance:

Annoying tourist getting in the way:

I love this view - think it would make a great thousand-piece jig-saw:

It's one thing to think about opening this window and exiting onto the small maintenance platform outside; then you notice that the base of the platform has hinged flaps fitted into it, and that on occasions these must be opened for workmen to pass through, with nothing between them and the ground:

The ruins of the Franziskaner Klosterkirche:

St Nicholas's Church, or Nikolaikirche - the oldest church in Berlin:

Back on terra firma, and we headed back past the cathedral, thinking about somewhere to eat a (by now, very) late lunch:

We decided to splash the cash at the 200-year-old Lutter und Wegner:

Award winning Sauerbraten with two sorts of cabbage and potato mash for Amanda:

Wiener Schnitzel and crispy home fries for your correspondent:

There can't be many restaurants with crisp white linens, attentive serving staff and a crocodile on the ceiling:

Out, and 'home' along Krausenstrasse:

After a rest and a revitalising cup of Earl Grey we started to plan the last two days of our break. A visit to the Reichstag was top of our list of things to do, and we knew that it was necessary to register our names on-line beforehand. Disaster! The earliest available slots for visiting were on the following Thursday - and we would be flying out on Wednesday morning. Oh well - we would walk over to the Reichstag tomorrow and get what photos we could, as well as checking out the Brandenburg Gate in hopefully better weather. There was one slight ray of sunshine - an entry on TripAdvisor indicated that tickets were sometimes available 'on the day'. Rationalising that there must indeed be some people who registered to visit and then, for whatever reason, did not, and that there must as a result be some vacancies, our spirits lifted and we resolved to get an early start in the morning.

Late night view from the apartment window: