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<%-- Page Title--%> Travel <%-- End Page Title--%>

<%-- Volume Number --%> Vol 1 Num 157 <%-- End Volume Number --%>

June 4, 2004

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A Glimpse of Berlin

Saad N. Quayyum

“No English! Deutsche!" was the answer I got from the person on the platform to my frantic question about how to get to the intra city trains. I was in Berlin and it was late afternoon. I wanted to get to the youth hostel I had reserved online before it got dark. I had just come from Copenhagen where almost everyone spoke English and I had no problems getting around. I felt like grabbing hold of the guy, shaking him and forcing some English words out of him. I had walked all around the station and couldn't figure out where to go.

After wandering around a little more I found the station master and got a map from him. I still couldn't figure out which train to take. From the gestures of the station master I got a vague indication of the platform where to wait. I jumped on to the next train that stopped there. After travelling for a couple of minutes I realised that I had forgotten to buy a ticket. I kept my fingers crossed. Thanks to the German trustworthiness of its citizens I reached my desired station and got out of there without any problems.

I was in East Berlin now. I walked along the road following printed directions from a piece of paper. The neighbourhood seemed to get dilapidated as I walked along. I again crossed the fingers that I had uncrossed after getting off the train. This was going to be my first time in a hostel and in my efforts to keep costs low I had booked one of the cheaper ones. I stopped in front of a half torn- down building. The half that was up had the name of my hostel written in big letters. Ah! I had reached my destination.

The interior wasn't bad at all. The lounge was clean, cozy and comfortable and best of all, the person at the reception spoke English. I was given an array of options and I chose a room with twenty beds. Although four bed rooms and six bed rooms were not that expensive than the room I chose, I felt more comfortable sharing a room with nineteen strangers than sharing a room with three or five strangers. Yes, if you are travelling alone, staying at a hostel, and you do not want to pay for four, chances are you have to share a room with people.

I was starving and decided to get dinner. I found a shop run by a man of Middle Eastern origin. I bought a swarma for a couple of Euros. Swarma and falafel were my staple diets in Copenhagen. I was quite glad to find them. They are filling, tasty and more importantly for a student travelling on a tight budget, they are cheap. I returned to the hostel a content man.

In general people were quite respectful of others in the room at the hostel. They tried to stay as quiet as possible but could not avoid making the sounds of opening and closing bags, moving luggage around and occasionally whispering. A friend who joined me the next day was a light sleeper and did not find the arrangements all that comfortable. I on the other hand am a deep sleeper and slept like a log that night. People walking into the room in the middle of the night did not bother me in the least.

My travel hungry soul had led me to Berlin. I was studying at the University of Copenhagen on an exchange programme and I had a short break. I wanted to use the time to see Western Europe, and where better to start than Berlin, where Western Europe was symbolically separated from its eastern counterpart. I had bought a Eurail Pass online, packed my bags and hopped on to a Germany- bound train.

I had no clue where I wanted to go and what I wanted to see. While using the bathroom in the morning I came across an advertisement for a walking tour pasted on the door. It was called Brewers' Berlin. When I went down to the lounge, a couple of people were talking excitedly about it. The person at the reception highly recommended it. I bought a ticket for 10 Euros and decided to join the tour.

It was money well spent. I highly recommend the tour to anyone visiting Berlin. It was a seven hour walking tour led by a man called Brewers, who was retired from the British Foreign Service. He had lived in many parts of the world and was quite happy to have someone from Bangladesh in his tour. He was knowledgeable, voluble and entertaining--some of the best qualities that one looks for in a guide. Not only did we see many interesting sites, but also learned the history behind them. His anecdotes and stories brought to life the Berlin of the Second World War and of the Soviet era.

The tour started from a large synagogue in East Berlin. Many people were killed here when Hitler cracked down on the Jews. The Synagogue was burnt down by the Nazis but it was rebuilt to its former glory later on. It had a wonderful golden dome that made it stand out among all buildings in the vicinity. But what caught my eyes were a couple of German policemen standing guard at the door. The men were on alert for possible terrorist attacks. I was struck by a sad historic irony--almost sixty years after Hitler the Jewish community in Berlin was feeling threatened.

East Berlin was still less developed than West Berlin. Aesthetically wanting "Lego" buildings stood as testimony of the Soviet era. We were shown some dilapidated buildings and bomb sites that were remnants of the Second World War.

We went to the Brandenburg Gate, one of the most photographed sights in Berlin. The statue of the chariot on top was apparently stolen by Napolean when he conquered Berlin and it was brought back and reinstated when he was defeated in Waterloo. Our guide warned us of an eyesore before we reached the spot. Apparently he was no football fan. Right in front of the Gate was a huge football built for the 2006 Berlin FIFA World Cup.

The Reichstag, the German parliament building, was just beyond the Gate. This was the place that saw the start of two World Wars. It was when the Reichstag was burnt down that Hitler found an excuse to assume absolute power in pre World War Two Germany. Our guide was talking constantly and I was feeling dizzy absorbing all the history around me. We had meandered to an innocuous looking place and I had no premonition of what was coming. All of a sudden Mr. Brewers declared that we were standing over Hitler's bunker. It was the same bunker where he had committed suicide. All conversation stopped. We didn't know what to say. There was nothing in the place to indicate what he was suggesting. Either post Nazi Germany had obliterated everything to do with the place or it was a hoax on the part of our guide. If it was a hoax, it was a grand hoax--something our thrill desiring spirit was willing to buy.

We trudged along to the Gestapo headquarters, saw bits of the inner Berlin Wall and visited Checkpoint Charlie. The checkpoint stood between the US and the Russian sector and was once a heavily guarded spot. Now a museum dedicated to the story of the Berlin Wall has been built there.

I returned to the hostel thoroughly exhausted. I had two more days in Berlin and a lot more to see.

 

 

 

 
         

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