What to do in Berlin

It's starting to rain. Not heavily, just that sort of annoying drizzle that gets you soaked to the skin if you stay in it for too long. It certainly adds to the dull, sombre mood. Tourists scuttle around the outdoor museum, huddling under the cover of the exhibition shelters. Some head off to nearby cafes to warm up and shelter from the weather, expecting a turn for the worst. A few brave souls are pulling up the hoods of their brightly tainted ponchos and staying by the remains of the wall, staring at the graffiti scribbled onto or chipped into the plaster. One particular word catches my eye - madness...

 

The train doors slide open with a soft hiss, announcing our arrival at Tiergarten station, Berlin. Among a few other busy commutors and tourists, we stepped off the train to the sounds of the city and the rather spectacular sight of the Victory Column further down the road, dwarfing the cars scurrying around below it. Only a few minutes off the train, and I was already beginning to like Berlin. Dodging cars and cyclists, we headed into the actual Tiergarten, an expanse of greenery and garden stretching along the length of Juni Straße des, the city's central road. Walking through the maze of paths, we reached the Victory Column, the towering golden statue that was first visible from the train station. Being a bit of a nerd about ancient mythology, and recognising the Roman goddess of, well, victory, I was glad to find an information board, in English, about the statue's history. Just taking a quick look at the towering column, fitting in comfortably with its surroundings, you wouldn't guess it had actually been moved to Berlin by the Nazis, who were redesigning the city as their capital, or that it has had an extra pillar or two added to it over the years. 

 

Next stop - the Brandenburg Gate. I made the mistake of saying previously that Berlin wasn't too busy or touristy - so then, of course, we reached one of Berlin's most iconic monuments and were in swarms of camera-wielding globe-trotters and hopeful vendors. It was one of those places where someone was either in your photo, or you were is someone else's. The gateway was pretty impressive, though, intricately carved in the style of Athens architecture and crowned by an also very Greek horse-chariot. We didn't stay at the gateway for too long, with much to see and do, and soon moved on to our next location.

 

The Berlin Wall seemed to suck all life and light out of the surrounding street. The sky had turned grey by the time we arrived, and the outdoor museum was silent, apart from the scuffling of feet as one tourist after the next moved on to another piece of information. And then it started to rain. Not heavily, just that sort of annoying drizzle that gets you soaked to the skin if you stay in it for too long. It certainly added to the dull, sombre mood. I braved the weather and headed over to the wall. One particular word etched into the plaster caught my eye - madness. It couldn't have summed up a lot of what was said on the info boards better, such as the actions that the Nazis took during the war and even the building of the wall itself. It just makes you grateful for the relative peace and freedom we have in our own country, especially when some people around the globe are still controlled in such a strict manner. 

 

Heading off from the Berlin wall, we went to Checkpoint Charlie, the US army station along the once standing barrier between two halves of the city. We were a bit disapointed to find it had turned into a tourist attraction more than anything, where you had to pay to pose for a photo (taken on your own camera) in front of the checkpoint office with two guards, and there was not much more there than that. 

 

About 20 minutes later, we were walking around a maze of concrete slabs, the majority easily twice the height of me. A previously empty plot of land in the city is now filled with 2,600 of these blocks, a memorial to all the Jews murdered in the Holocaust of WWII. The monument is simple but effective, the perfect way to remember the millions of people killed for no good reason, and has an information centre located underground below it, which can only be accessed by weaving around through the thousands of blocks.

 

To be honest, I was sad to leave Berlin, and once more board the train that would whiz us back to our accomodation. I had loved our visit to Germany's capital - all the monuments, the history, just the experience of being in a city so similar yet so different to my own country's capital. It had been brilliant, and I certainly wouldn't complain if we planned to go back.

 

by Amy (13)