Tempelhof

After Tempelhof Airport closed in 2008 the government deliberated over what to do with the sizeable space and eventually decided to, well, do nothing much at all. I can't decide whether this was incredibly un-german, in its impracticality and wastefulness, or entirely German, in doing exactly the opposite of what we would expect of them and thinking it a great joke. This decision does seem extraordinary. The Tempelhof site takes up a massive chunk of the city, and I'm sure there were no shortage of suggestions on what could be done with the space. But it does present some unique possibilities. It is a weird and memorable feeling to stand at the top of the runway looking down, especially one with such a history.  The airport, built under Hitler and the site of the famous airlift of the late 40s, is frequented these days mostly by rollerbladers, kite flyers, model airplane enthusiasts, and community gardeners. The space is also sometimes used for exhibitions and festivals, including the Berlin Festival earlier this year.  I had a weird fascination with the huge, fascist architecture of the airport, so cold and unsettling. I actually used to like going down there just to feel a bit spooked. Ultimately, I think, the unparalleled feeling of being in such a huge, flat, empty space in a city like Berlin makes me glad of the slightly eccentric and unfashionable decision to do nothing. 

                                       

 

Rome

My time in Berlin is almost at an end (for now, anyway) and I wanted to take advantage of cheap flights to see a little more of Europe. Italy was at the top of my list, and flights to Rome, being such a popular tourist destination, were the cheapest. The first thing that struck me upon my arrival to the city was the strange but beautiful juxtaposition of ancient ruins, medieval and renaissance churches and the more 'modern' architecture. A harmonious mash up of the last 2500 years. 

Despite being so firmly identified with its glorious past, the city feels young, vibrant and lively. There was no trace of the weariness or sadness that I had sensed in Prague. I very much enjoyed the italian exuberance, though feel it would perhaps exhaust me if I were exposed to it for too long. My favourite aspects of the city were the narrow backstreets of Centro Storico and the excellent bakeries found there, the gloriously decadent churches to which entry was free, and the Vatican Museums, at which I was not able to spend enough time. 

I have long thought that the Italians eat the best food in the world, and in addition to the city's historical and artistic richness, I couldn't wait to sample the pizza, pasta and gelato. I did indeed eat exquisite pizza (Pizzarium, Da Remo), sublime gelato (Il Gelato), excellent pastries (Forno Campo de'Fiori, Antico Forno Roscioli) and drank a lot of red wine, as one should when in Rome. I can't wait to go back and to explore more of Italy, a country to which I have a strong attraction. 

My new favourite trees! 

The lovely warm colours of Rome. 

So simple but the most delicious biscuits I have ever tasted. 

Turkish Markets

I was aware of the Turkish market, held on Tuesdays and Fridays along the Landwehrkanal, before I arrived in Berlin, and was very excited to be living nearby. They are a genuine market, chaotic, crowded, and a little overwhelming. After the novelty wore off however, my desire to fight the crowds, be trolly-rammed by unapologetic Turkish women, and get elbowed in the face by frustrated shoppers, diminished somewhat. The produce was as cheap as chips but more often than not, overwhelmed by choice, I'd come home with something I didn't need or of questionable quality. But, I gradually made my way back. Now I have my regular fruit and veg stall, hummus, cheese and bread stalls. I spend 3-4 euros max and am loaded with goods. It is best to go early, just as the market is opening, particularly if you want to browse. In the warmer months it is a great place to pick up some dips, olives and fruit for a picnic by the canal. 

I'm not sure what they do with them, but every week I see crowds of people leaving the market with bags full to the brim with limes. 

A lot of what is on offer has travelled a fair distance, bananas from Costa Rica, avocados from Peru, garlic from China. A good chunk comes from Spain, ostensibly the food bowl of Western Europe. But a couple of stores stock mostly German produce, one exclusively, direct from the farm. A lot of snide comments are made about German fruit and veg, but I have been consistently impressed by the seasonal offerings. Asparagus and strawberries in Spring, Plums in late summer. Autumn is an especially prolific period with delicious walnuts, apples, brussel sprouts, potatoes and pumpkins on offer for next to nothing.

The quantity of imported produce does make for a very colourful market. 

Victoria Park

I had been told a while ago that a visit to Victoria Park was worthwhile, and finally rode over there a couple of weeks ago, though it felt a little like a duty. The effort, however, was well worth it. Narrow, winding paths bordered by tall trees lead up a steep hill, down which falls a beautiful waterfall. The park has an air of magic to it, like the forests in an Enid Blyton or Tolkien novel. At the top of the hill is the impressive 19th century cast iron dedication to liberty, and a spectacular panoramic view of the city.

Autumn in Kreuzköln

Last Sunday I experienced my first truly perfect autumn day. The transition between seasons is not particularly stark in Sydney. We avoid blisteringly cold winters, but also miss out on what there is to celebrate about more defined seasons. On this day the sky was clear blue, intensifying the colours of the leaves on the trees which were various shades of red, orange, brown, yellow and green. There was a highly energised feeling in the air. A transition that had been happening gradually was suddenly in full swing. It was quite a surreal feeling. There was a slight breeze and a few times during the day it picked up, causing a crop of leaves to fall down and swirl around like snowflakes. Groups of parents and children were raking up piles and then watching, mesmerised, as the bright orange garbage trunks came around and sucked them up. This was likely to be the last temperate day for quite a while, and most people seemed to be outside making the most of it. This last week has been bitingly cold, against a backdrop of grey skies and ever more skeletal trees.The price to be paid for enjoying such a wonderful autumn day. 

Die Heilig Kreuz Kirche

There are a lot of beautiful churches in Berlin, the majority having had to undergo significant restorations after the war. One I particularly enjoy and whose beauty I never tire of, is the Heilig Kreuz Kirche. I ride past it nearly every day and always take a moment to admire it. On day I took these photos, the contrast between the bright blue sky and red-brown of the church was especially striking.  

Kulturforum

Whereas Alexander Platz is generally horrid and to be avoided, Potsdamer Platz has a lot to offer. The aesthetic, while still fairly harsh, is not so grim as Alex. There are the familiar towering, intimidating buildings, but everything is a lot newer and shiner. And just five minutes from the UBahn is Kulturforum, a cluster of first rate galleries that I have returned to again and again. In the main building there is the Gemäldegalerie (European art from the 13th-18th century), Kunstbibliothek, Kupferstichkabinett (specialises in prints and drawings), and the Kunstgewerbemuseum and just nearby is the Neue Nationalgalerie. I have seen some really excellently curated exhibitions here. The considerable collection of the Kunstbibliothek enables curators to draw on a wide range of artworks to create interesting and in-depth explorations on a theme. 'Von Mehr als einer Welt', art from the enlightenment, was one such. The satirical responses of a number of the artists to the elevation of science and optimism of man's capacity to master nature were particularly memorable. A number of exhibitions this year have dealt with the Englightenment, as it is the 300th anniversary of the birth of Frederick the Great. Another gem, 'Am Rande der Vernuft', communicated the dichotomies and ambiguities within the enlightenment with impressive clarity. I generally prefer seeing curated exhibitions based around a theme, as opposed to a singular artist. However, I very much enjoyed the display of Cornelius Bega's works, a 17th artist from Haarlem, whose depictions of seedy 'drinking dens' carry with them an unambiguous warning of the dangers of drink and bad company. These have probably been my favourite exhibitions, yet I found all that I have seen to be well executed. Kulturforum is also less busy than other more well-known galleries around Berlin, enabling you to enjoy the art in relative peace. I find the cluster of buildings quite striking, modern in style with the St. Matthäus Church an impressive contrast.  

London

For a week in October I swapped Berlin for London. I have visited the city a few times and while I always find it slightly overwhelming I am never lost for something to do. Being a market fiend, my first stop was Borrough Market, near London Bridge, with sensational cheese and friendly store holders. Conveniently, the Tate Modern is only short walk away, at which there is presently a Munch exhibition, whom I've been drawn to ever since seeing The Kiss (one version of many) at an exhibition in Melbourne. While the actual paintings didn't blow me away, the themes of repetition, compulsion and obsession in his work have stayed with me. (All this, I'm well aware, demonstrates my absolute, irrepressible middle-classness, which I am, like most of my kind, a little embarrassed about.) 

I am not as in love with London as most seem to be. I no longer dream of living there, as I did when I was younger. Without any real evidence, I find the people there a little unimaginative, they don't seem to be particularly receptive to things a bit strange or different. I am well aware that the 'wackiness' of Berlin is very conscious, but I think it is a far less judgemental city than London, where you seem to have to fit into a particular mould in order to be accepted. I became far more self conscious in London, and I didn't much like it. I am sure it is a different matter living there, you would find your niche and break through the tough exterior. The Berlin I have come to know is certainly very different from how I saw things during my first month. 

Grunewald

Last Wednesday, 3rd october, marked 22 years since the German reunification (Deutsche Wiedervereinigung). Demonstrating my enduring disconnection with everyday life here, I was not aware of the holiday until my flatmate suggested we head to Grunewald, in the south-west of Berlin, for the day. I was enthusiastic as during the summer I had been to and thoroughly enjoyed Schlachtensee, a beautiful lake on the edge of Grunewald. I was also uncharacteristically keen for some nature and physical activity. Grunewald is a lovely area, peaceful and idyllic, surprisingly close the the city centre. It was a fairly warm and brilliantly blue autumn day. After walking for an hour or so through the woods, the trees a lovely golden-green, we stopped for lunch by a lake and snoozed a while in the sun. The walk back was a little more difficult, another 5 or so kilometres, often uphill and I seemed to have developed a head cold during my post-lunch nap. It was then I decided that I preferred to sit in nature, rather than struggle through it, but it was lovely to have experienced the area in two seasons, and to briefly escape the chaotic city streets.        

My Amerika-Gedenkbibliothek

One place I have been spending a fair amount of time recently is the Amerika-Gedenkbibliothek, just opposite Hallesches Tor U-Bahn station. It is a large library with a high ceiling and a huge window by the work areas. It is thus lovely and light, and there is a nice view out onto a little garden, which is good refreshment for the eyes after an intensive period of study. Although it seems that when the sun reaches a particular point in the sky, a security guards comes around to draw the curtains of certain sections of the window, which can be a little disappointing if you have a pleasant shaft of sunlight warming one cheek. The library attracts all sorts, students studying, young parents with their children and, of course, those doing it a little rough looking to find a warm, comfortable place to spend the day. I really think Berlin's down-and-outers are an untapped resource, considering the hefty tomes I see some of them reading. Due to its size, the slightly off smell radiating from these less frequently washed library regulars dissipates, particularly as you move toward the back. Picking a spot is, however, quite important. I've learnt that those who read the papers are also often the ones that don't shower. The smell can be quite strong and hence distracting, one of the risks of studying in a public place. At home in Sydney, I would have never considered going to a library to work. But it has actually proved a productive work place, the bike ride there is energising and the ride back refreshing and revitalising. Apparently they are planning to build a big public library at Tempelhof Park and to close the Amerika-Gedenkbibliothek. This would be a shame, as it is a great library with historical significance located in a good, central position. 

I want to ride my bicycle!

Having never properly learnt to drive, the benefits of living in a bike-friendly city have been particularly significant for me. Buying my own bike was a big step up in the world and I still often experience a shiver of excitement with the realisation that I am on the road now and no longer a plebeian pedestrian. I ride almost everywhere I go, and may even sometimes avoid going places to which I can't ride. My initial angst at riding on main roads didn't last long and I generally find riding relaxing and a good stress reliever. Bike paths are prolific and drivers well accustomed to sharing the road. There is naturally some tension between bikers and drivers, and bikers and pedestrians, yet considering the number of bikes on the road, it does not seem to be an especially big issue. I just find it brilliant that I can ride to Potsdamer Platz, to visit an art gallery, or up to the library to study or to the many various parks around my area. I have ridden to clubs and restaurants, to work and to meet friends. For people who can drive, this might not be so exciting, but for someone until now restricted to travelling on public transport, it has meant a hugely positive change in my life.

Cafe Culture

A saving grace of living in a foreign city without a solid friend and family base has been the cafe culture in Berlin. It is totally acceptable to visit cafes alone and remain long after you have finished your single cup of coffee. It took me a while to relax into this excellent custom but now I happily take a book or my laptop and sit for sometimes hours reading or working. This is standard practice and garners no annoyance whatsoever from staff. The cliental in some cafes on a given day will almost entirely be made up of lone individuals tapping away on their Macs. Its almost to the point where you would feel more uncomfortable chatting to a friend over a coffee. For my current study-centred existence this is perfect. A comfortable cafe serving good coffee (of which there is no shortage) offers a pleasant change of scene from the library or my desk at home and my ability to drown out background noise has improved dramatically. It is a little harder to ignore the smell and resist the temptation of the often marvellous looking freshly baked cakes on offer. 

Plum Jam

It is the first day of Autumn and despite clear blue skies there is a slight chill in the air. I have heard horror stories about winter in Berlin, well-below freezing temperatures, long hours of darkness and the general dispiriting grey drabness of the city. Needless to say, I am fairly worried about my ability to handle winter and its lead up. So I am desperate now to capture the last of summer, bottle it and preserve it. I was able to do so literally this week, by making some plum jam. I didn't know that Germany produced plums, let alone really tasty ones. But it must be their season because they are everywhere and cheap. Plum jam has a beautiful colour and tastes of sunshine, which will no doubt be comforting during the deep, dark winter creeping ever closer.

Plum Jam:

1kg plums

500 g water

600-700grams raw sugar

a little lemon juice

Preheat the oven to 100-150*C, sterilise 4-5 jars, place them on a tray and into the oven. Place the sugar in an oven proof bowl and also into the oven to warm up. Wash and stone the fruit and cut into bite sized pieces, place in a large pot (wide and shallow, if possible) with the water and lemon juice. Tie up the plum stones in a muslin bag and add to the pot. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook until the fruit is soft. Turn off the heat and stir in the warm sugar until it has dissolved. Return to a high heat and bring to the boil, boil until setting point has been reached. One way to test this is to have a saucer in the freezer, tip a little syrup onto the cold surface, after 15 or so seconds push it gently with a spoon, if it runs freely it needs longer, if it is a little more resistant it may be ready, depending how firmly set you like your jam. 

Regularly Random

When I first arrived in Berlin, at the very end of April, it was 30+ degrees. A week or so later the temperature dropped to about 12 degrees. I thought perhaps that this drastic change in weather was an abnormality and would be an infrequent occurrence during my first spring/summer in Berlin. Not the case. Such random changes in weather occur with unsettling regularity. Last weekend it was hot (over 30) and sunny, today it is 17 degrees and rainy. Depending on who you talk to, Berlin summers never used to be like this or they have always been so. It was quite distressing at first, but as you stop trying to make sense of them and just come to accept (and expect) the rapid and random changes, they become less disruptive. It just reinforces the necessity to enjoy every nice day because it could be horrid tomorrow.   

Summer in the Park

Discovering the considerable number and loveliness of the parks and green spaces has been one of the most enjoyable things about my Summer in Berlin. There is a strong culture here of visiting the park that I have quickly and enthusiastically adopted. First and foremost is my local stretch of the Landwehrkanal, which I include here despite it not being strictly speaking a park. The extensive bank, lined by soft, sweepy tress is where people go to sit, eat, read, relax and meet friends. It is an especially good place to visit on a hot day, where the cool breeze coming off the water provides refreshing relief from the stifling city streets. Also good on this count is Treptower Park, as it is fringed on one side by the river. It also has a neat little island, accessed by an arched bridged, which adds some novelty to picnics. There is invariably some or other cultural activity/event taking place in Berlin's various parks. For instance, Gorlitzer Park, a little shabby in parts and shared between local Turkish families, hipsters and drug-dealers, recently hosted a work by the theatre company Shakespeare Im Park. Watching a top-quality (and free) dramatic performance based on Thomas Moore's 16th century classic, Utopia, while the sun set beyond the trees was quite special. The size of the parks also takes one by surprise. Hassenheide Park, down the road from me, is huge and leads onto the remarkable (and even larger) Tempelhofer Park, formally the Tempelhof Airport, constructed at Hitler's behest and to which the American food drops were made in the late 40s. Berlin is a city where a lot of people don't do much for a lot of the time. And a beautiful park is the perfect place to get busy doing just that.