I went to Berlin! And I'm back! What a trip it was! I myself had been skeptic about the German capital. I went to Berlin! And I'm back! What a trip it was! I myself had been skeptic about the German capital. Yet I had been wrong. Everybody told me there is quite a handful of other German cities which are prettier, more beautiful, quainter and more fun. Berlin is an odd city. In WWII most of the buildings were bombed and so they had to be rebuilt, either in their old style or in a completely new one. When I was telling my sister, she reminded me of the scene in the film 'The Downfall', which we'd watched some time ago, where as the war is drawing to an end, the Germans throw thousands of books and documents out of the windows of an important building. Only God knows how much valuable knowledge and ideas were lost in the war- like little nuggets of history and civilization thrown in a raging volcano. That scene with the sheets of paper raining down and the bombs going off in the background perfectly embodied the way humanity itself destroys its own achievements of learning and thinking.
As in many cities, the old and the new sit side by side, yet in Berlin this somehow seemed even more obvious. In the Kurfurstendamm, which is one of the most important streets of the capital, the ruins of the beautiful Gedachtniskirche lie adjacent to the new Gedaechtniskirche whose minimal, urban, hexagonal exterior constrasts effectively with the ethereal, beautiful interior, in which there is a lush luxury of bluish light, created by the stained glass.
The most beautiful street in Berlin is Unter den Linden (Under the Lime Trees)- even its name has a nice ring to it- which is lined with one beautiful building after another, including the Humboldt University, the Neue Wache (New Guardhouse?) and the former Zeughaus, which now serves as the beautiful German History Museum. This museum was my favourite of them all. It showcases German history from BC up till the re-unification 17 years ago. There are all sorts of artefacts from every period- furniture, cutlery, paintings, bells, knights' armour, tapestries, books (including Luther's bible), sculptures, old cars and motorbikes, tapes and videos of Hitler's propaganda campaigns and speeches, posters, an original Chanel dress (note the feminine fashionable touch here), pieces of the Berlin wall with graffiti and countless other things. It was definitely very enlightening for three students of German like us.
Another highlight was dining in the revolving 'Telecafe' in the big globe at the top of the TV tower. A thousand thanks to Deborah's parents for giving us this experience. The twinkling lights of Berlin sprawled out underneath us made for a lovely atmosphere, even though I could hardly recognize anything- we were so high up! One of the best days was Sunday when we went to Potsdam, which is a small town outside Berlin- choc-a-block with lovely palaces. The day was a gloriously sun-drenched day, complete with a temperature which reached 24 degrees Celcius and heavenly skies that seemed to have stepped out straight from a fairytale. The palace itself is a celebration of Rococo indulgence, while I could have lost myself in those gardens on that heavenly day.
There are a million other things and many more highlights I could write about but I'm quite tired already. Deborah and Marilyn's company was great all throughout, despite the fact that we are three very different people. We laughed a lot, walked a lot, talked a lot, explored a lot and had a week we will never forget.
As regards university, it looks like I shall have to repeat. Everything. But I'll whine about that later. I guess I should have expected it. It was indeed too good to be true.
Watched Tattoo too- a good, powerful play about the disturbing, twisted and puzzling phenomenon that is sexual abuse within the family - yet I couldn't stand Maria Buckle's overdone contortions of the lips, jaws and mouth. Flash news, Ms. Buckle- the mouth is not the only way to convey emotions. Okay, maybe her performance was okay, yet my point still stands. Stefan Cachia Zammit was superb as the abusive father. I can't really say much more because that's as far as my time and my expertise (or lack thereof) allow me.
I really have to go now, because this blog is truly long!
Ps The three images I tried to upload are, respectively, the new Gedaechtniskirche, the three of us at Sanssouci and the Gendarmenmarkt, a lovely square near Unter den Linden. Hope I managed to upload them!
Till next time, take care,
Lizzy
xxx
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