Berlin Takes My Breath Away. Ha. ;)

If you haven't already guessed from the pictures, I've spent the past five or six days in Berlin, soaking up the energy, culture, and in-your-face awesomeness of this fantastic city. It's hard to describe my reaction to the place without sounding like I'm on the payroll of the local tourist board, but I swear I'm not! It has a vibrant arts scene, plentiful and great museums, people watching better than anywhere except maybe Marrakesh (and let's be honest--who can compete with snake charmers?), inexpensive restaurants, and so much history it seems like the buildings just shimmer with it. I expected that I'd enjoy Berlin, but I really didn't expect it to be a show-stopper of this caliber. After almost a week, I have just begun to scratch the surface. In fact, a couple of days ago, the thought crept into my mind that I'd love to arrange a house-swap someday so that I can live here for a few months. Maybe longer.

Cool things I've done in the past few days: watched a graffiti artist spray paint an elaborate tag on a remaining section of the Berlin Wall; visited the East Side Gallery--an open-air museum of one of the longest stretches of the Wall left, covered in murals painted by world-famous artists; wound my way for hours through the stellar German history museum; paid tribute at the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, the city's Holocaust Memorial, and the associated museum; walked through the Brandenburg Gate; saw Checkpoint Charlie; used the Zoo Station metro; sampled Turkish, Japanese, and Indian food (though I haven't yet screwed up the courage to try the currywurst--it looks dreadful, although I'm sure it tastes good); settled in for espresso at a couple of great cafes; and watched people bungee jump off a hotel roof.

Oh yeah, and another experience to add to the list: I had to buy a pair of jeans, because autumn hit HARD, at, I think, 8:37 on Saturday morning. Friday was so hot I felt like I was melting as I walked through the city's many concrete, shadeless plazas. Blazing sun, sticky air--it felt like being in someone's mouth. Then, that night a big electrical storm crashed through the city and the temperature plummeted into the low fifties. And me without any warm clothes, or closed-toe shoes. I guess it was going to happen sooner or later, but I really want my summer back!!!

So the most common bit of advice I received before coming to Germany was that Berliners aren't too warm; it's true that they're not effusive like Italians, but in my experience they've been exceedingly polite, if not friendly, especially when you give them a tiny opening. Today, as I was headed into a train station to catch the subway, I paused outside the door to let an elderly man with a cane pass through first. He actually stopped to thank me and gave me the best smile. Later in the day, I was near one of the canals, leaning against the bridge railing, listening to some Elbow on my iPod, apparently cranked a little higher than I had realized. A fifty-something guy in a Motorhead t-shirt walked by and gave me a huge smile and a thumbs up. (OK, I included that interaction mostly because once I go back to America, I will never again have the chance to write the phrase "a fifty-something guy in a Motorhead t-shirt." Or at least until Lemmy kicks the bucket, that is. All those German punks, goths, and metal heads from the 80s are still here--they're just a little older now, and more power to them.).

In any case, I feel as though I could stay in Berlin for weeks longer, but I'm beginning to get the overwhelming feeling that my time left on the road is fleeting and will disappear much too quickly. So I'll move on to Prague in the next couple of days, then likely on to Jordan to see Petra (and also to see if two months in Europe struggling with Spanish, Italian, and German have completely extinguished my Arabic). I passed three months on the road a couple of days ago, and I don't expect to continue traveling past the four-month mark, so I'm going to have to become ruthless about scheduling the things I can't miss.

Now is the time on Sprockets when we sleep. Good night.

BB Gate

Zoo Station

Berlin

Brandenburg Gate

Berlin's memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe

Brandenburg Gate

Checkpoint Charlie

Fragments of the Berlin Wall, covered in murals

Catching Up: Barcelona

My apologies that it's been awhile since I've updated the story here! I've been on a bit of a hiatus from writing blog posts because I had a visitor with me for a week (thanks for coming to Spain, Janet!), and then I spent yesterday in transit to Berlin. I'll try to be more regular about posting in the coming weeks, though.

So after leaving Italy, which I described in my last post, I returned to Madrid by way of Barcelona. Luckily, this time I made it through a couple of days in Barcelona without getting mugged or pooped on by pigeons. Woo hoo, imagine my surprise! ; ) In the chaotic aftermath of the mugging back in May, I had to spend my last day or two there canceling my iPhone service, changing all my passwords, replacing the phone, and filing a police report, so I didn't get a chance to visit the Parc Guell, designed by Gaudi and one of the Barcelona landmarks I had been most interested in seeing. Plus, I will admit that I was also pretty spooked about visiting a park, since the mugging had occurred in broad daylight in a park, and it really affected my sense of safety and security for a week or two. I'm essentially back to normal now, although I am still more cautious and watchful.

So on my return to Spain, I finally made my trip to the Parc Guell, which includes a Gaudi Museum. The museum was small and not very impressive, but the park was pleasant. It was originally intended to be the site of a housing development for Barcelona's wealthiest people, but it didn't really catch on, and eventually the city bought it and turned it into the museum and park. It is set high on a hill overlooking the city, and it contains a couple of Gaudi-designed homes and some interesting landscape architecture (pillars that resemble trees, a big blue serpent keeping watch over the entrance, etc.). What I liked best was the commanding view over the city and out into the Mediterranean Sea, and the cool breeze sweeping in from the water. I was there at sunset on a hot Saturday, and the park was crammed with tourists and locals eating ice cream, walking their dogs in the shade of all the tall trees, sitting on benches reading books, and chasing kids. It was full of life and beautiful sunset colors. I'm glad I finally got to see it, but in truth it doesn't compare favorably to the city's other Gaudi shrines, Casa Botlla and La Pedrera, at least in my opinion.

After the mugging, my opinion of Barcelona was absolutely dreadful. My aversion for the city ebbed a little over time, but one thing that really helped turn me around was reading a great book by the Irish novelist Colm Toibin, who lived in Barcelona for a few years back in the seventies and then returned years later. If you're considering a trip to Spain, I highly recommend the book (Homage to Barcelona): it's very readable and dishes out some interesting information that's unavailable in the museums. He devotes a chapter each to Gaudi, Picasso, Miro, the Catalan music hall that I loved so much, and various other personalities and places important in understanding the city.

The fact that I found most intriguing involved Gaudi and the Sagrada Familia cathedral. Gaudi worked for years on the cathedral, personally directing every aspect of its construction, large and small. He didn't draw plans--the construction mostly involved making some models and him carefully supervising the cut and placement of every block of stone and sculpture. A project of that magnitude usually takes generations to complete, and Gaudi expected to work on it longer than he did--unfortunately, he was hit by a streetcar and died within a week. Besides being a devastating loss, his passing was disastrous for the project, or at least disastrous for its ability to be finished as Gaudi would have wanted it done. Construction continued for several years according to his models, though without his continual input, the structure surely isn't exactly as Gaudi would have executed it. Then, some time later, in the anti-clerical purges in the thirties, rioters smashed Gaudi's models and burned his notes. When you tour the museum, you learn that construction was suspended between 1940 and 1956, but they don't really say why. It was because they were trying to reconstruct the models and piece together what they could of Gaudi's intentions. I thought that fact alone made Toibin's book worth reading. In any case, the models were restored as much as possible, and other architects continued Gaudi's work, though the design and construction methods today are nowhere near as painstaking or as costly as those Gaudi insisted upon. In fact, one group of Gaudi supporters even advocated leaving the cathedral unfinished as homage to Gaudi, but that proposal didn't receive much support. Toibin wrote a very good book--if you go to Barcelona, I recommend seeking it out.

After Barcelona, I headed back to Madrid by bus and met my friend for a week. Since it's getting late and she had mentioned that she might possibly be open to writing a guest post, I will stop there for the moment and bring us up to date with everything else tomorrow. Good night! :)

Street Art in Berlin