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. 

Prague

Popped over to Prague last weekend, as one does in Europe. The ease of travelling between countries is something every Australian must take some time to get used to. A 5 hour train journey through green, lush countryside is another. Prague is, as everyone who has been there will tell you, beautiful. She boasts an exhausting but sublime array of churches, cathedrals, palaces, squares and towers and is divided by the Vltava River over which stretches the famous Charles Bridge (Karluv Most). The city has a symmetry to it, which for me was especially ascetically pleasing, and also easy to enjoy due to the existence of numerous elevated look-out points. However, Prague also emanates a distinctly melancholic air*, typical, perhaps, of cities where everything impressive, everything worth celebrating, is from the past. Despite the swarms of tourists, the stillness and inactivity of the city were obvious. At least in the areas I visited, which were mostly very touristy, many of the locals seemed worn out and bored (due largely, no doubt, to dealing with tourists all day everyday). I left having enjoyed the beauty of Prague, but also feeling a little sad. Living to such a degree for (and from) the past must ultimately be a little unsatisfying.   

*This is obviously only a first impression gleaned from a very brief visit. 

And what country am I in, again?

How could one possibly get homesick in Berlin? This city takes cosmopolitanism to an entirely new level. On the street and in cafes and bars around my area, I'm certain I hear more foreigners than Germans. Berlin seems to belong to everyone, not just the Germans. She is a true 'melting-pot' of cultures with a reputation for attracting those more eccentric characters who feel constrained or repressed by the mores and morals of their Heimat*. The city is thus flooded with homages to a huge range of countries, cities and cultures, including Australia. Just down the road for me is the Melbourne Cafe, whose recent attempt to lure in customers (see above) raised my eyebrows just a little. There do seem to be plenty of Australians here. I am still at the stage where I would rather forget all things Australian and have little interest in meeting other Australians or, God forbid, drinking a VB. Perhaps at a later stage I will see it as comforting to have a slice of home so nearby.

* country/place of origin - my German is minimal, but I am already discovering words which express an idea better than their english equivalent/s.