Travel Musings

CHICAGO: Why Berlin? Copenhagen?

My destination choices were met with neither skepticism nor suspicion this time: either I'm becoming a mainstream traveler or people have given up on trying to figure me out.

A few people asked. Why Berlin? Why Copenhagen?

First off, September is a wonderful time to visit Europe: comfortable climate from top to bottom, the locals are back to work, and the mass of tourists have returned home where they belong (but I'm not a tourist, I'm a traveler.) Narrowing the continent down from there...

I've avoided Germany, Switzerland, and Austria long enough, my excuse always being, why would I want to surround myself with regimented, type-A, reserved individuals when I basically live with that type (myself) every day of my life? Once I decided to confront my Northern Europe fears, honing in on two cities was easy.

Berlin: Unless you've been hiding out in a cave the past year, you've surely heard that Berlin is Europe's new IT city. Rick Steves produced a Berlin City Guide podcast in March, The New York Times (Sunday edition) published an article on the Berlin Art World in June (as well as a 36 Hours article back in '06), United's Hemispheres magazine printed a Three Perfect Days feature on Berlin in June, and Travel + Leisure highlighted the city as recently as last month. Plus, plus, plus...in the day of the wimpy dollar, it's one of the most affordable destinations in Europe. Sold.

As for Copenhagen: considering that Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and Finland are easily accessible from Germany, and the fact that I've never visited Scandinavia, the second-half of my trip was a choice between Oslo, Stockholm, Copenhagen, and Helsinki. Copenhagen easily beat out runner-up Stockholm: I couldn't resist experiencing firsthand the impeccable Danish sense of design; this hippie city I'd read about named Freetown Christiana; Hamlet's home turf; and Noma, a Michelin two-star restaurant that appears to be the Norse answer to El Bulli, at least according to every other food and wine article I've read recently. Not to mention that Copenhagen seems to be receiving a significant amount of press coverage lately. Lastly, I wanted to find out for myself why the Danes are supposedly the happiest people in Europe, according to a recent study.

So, any other questions?

BERLIN: Ich Bin Jetlagged

At some point in 2008 I evolved from a Late Majority (I didn't purchase an iPod until 2007) to an Early Adopter: I think the transformation occured in May when I rushed out to buy Wii Fit at three times its current price. Anyway, my life has been better for it: thanks to my *Bose QuietComfort 2 Noise Cancelling Headphones (and 5 mg of Ambien paired with a big Goose Island draught at O'Hare), I arrive at Berlin's Tegel Airport this morning feeling somewhat human.

I follow the signs towards Gate 1 to the bus stop, exchanging my dollars for Euros along the way. The BVG transportation desk agent advises me to take the X9 (fast) or 109 bus to the zoo (Zoologischer Garten) to catch the 200 bus to Potsdamer Platz. However, if I want to use a 72-hour Berlin Welcome Card to do so, I need to backtrack to Lufthansa City Center, at Gate 13, to purchase it. And I do: $50 for unlimited bus and subway travel within city zones, and a 50% discount for most cultural attractions seems worthwhile. I contemplated purchasing the card in advance, but didn't want to fork-out $20 for shipping: I'm glad I waited.

X9 awaits me: I board, validate/activate my Welcome Card, and arrive at the zoo 15 minutes later. The 200 bus stop is not only easy to locate, but it lists upcoming stops and electronically counts down the minutes between the coaches, which arrive every ten minutes. I'm on, and now I'm off at Potsdamer Platz, which is a difficult stop to miss: it's a major, bustling city center. Turns out, riding the bus in Berlin (and knowing no German) is less intimidating than riding the bus back in Chicago. The instructions on Wikitravel's Berlin page, which I printed and re-read upon landing, help.

The Grand Hyatt Berlin is a beautiful, contemporary hotel located squarely in Potsdamer Platz. I've gone out-of-my-way this past year to stay at Hyatts, scraping together enough points to stay at this bastion of luxury for two days.

I abandon Bagzillo (my trusty Hartmann traveling companion) in the entryway, close the drapes, crawl into bed, and crash.

*One trans-Atlantic flight seated in front of a possessed toddler was all the convincing I needed.

BERLIN: Potsdamer Platz Neighborhood

I reluctantly drag myself from bed, shower, and toddle to the outdoor Topography of Terror museum, which stands at the site of the former Gestapo and SS headquarters. Christ, this exhibit is depressing. Guess I should have known from the name.

The festive GSW building (which reminds me of my Bonne Bell Lipsmackers soft drink 6-pack collection from 4th grade) towers over the horizon just blocks away, providing a welcome relief from the somber photos here. The Checkpoint Charlie Museum (right across from the reverential Snackpoint Charlie food stand) is a short walk away.

I've read articles describing the Checkpoint Charlie Museum as gloomy. Although a few sections trigger tears (the daughters separated from their mother; the tow-headed toddler who was kidnapped), the sum of my experience here is uplifting: the depictions of successful escapes from East Berlin attest to the power of the human spirit and celebrate ingenuity. The majority of the displays -- which I can reach out and touch -- are the actual escape vehicles contrived by gutsy, desperate people to circumvent The Wall. Just a few of the contraptions include welding machines, hollowed-out coupes, stereo speakers, pulley-driven chairlifts suspended from powerlines, home-made hot air balloons. submarines the size of iron lungs, motorgliders, inflatable kayaks, and gutted surfboards strapped to luggage racks.

I am the sole person roaming the upper floor of the museum, so I contemplate the paintings and immerse myself in them uninterrupted. A three-paneled mural by the artist Matthias Koeppel fascinates me: he depicts Germany as he imagined it in 1937 (he is the homely baby in a stroller in the photo: I cut him off in error), Germany in 1987 (he is the overweight outsider in lederhosen), and the dismal Germany he predicts in 2037 (he is the drunk covorting with the prostitute).

I spend two engrossing hours here then head towards the Judisches Museum Berlin (Jewish Museum Berlin), indulging along the way in a currywurst (hold the ketchup). The sausages -- dowsed in curry powder and smothered in ketchup -- are ubiquitous in this city. With good reason: these greasy bad boys give Chicago red hots a run for their money.

BERLIN: Swanky Architecture

The good news: it's 6:00, and the Jewish Museum is still open for a few more hours. The bad news: entrance is limited to those holding a Lange Nacht Der Museen (Long Night of Museums) ticket. Twice a year -- on August 30 and January 31 -- Berlin opens up its museums to the public from 6:00 p.m. to 2:00 a.m. for a $15 fee.

I don't want to shell-out more Euro: I just want to see the inside of this building. Having just purchased my Welcome Card for 50 bucks, I vow to return to the museum later in the week rather than part with more money.

I return to Potsdamer Platz. What luck: the Communication Museum! Only...it's closed except to Long Nighters. Screw it anyway -- I'm hungry and my feet hurt something bad.

The closer I get to the Hyatt, the closer I get to the Kulturforum complex, most notably the golden Philharmonie concert hall aglow in the rays of the setting sun. Double-X chromosomes trump aching arches: I am helplessly drawn towards anything bright, shiny, and gold.

After an indulgent dinner of draught beer and french fries at one of the dozens of touristy restaurants in the area, I cross Leipziger to the Sony Building, a dazzling collection of shops, restaurants, museums, cinemas, hotels, offices and condos. The bold images (and perhaps the German lager) inspire me and I snap away.

BERLIN: What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks?

Sunbeams circumvent my windowshade and land upon my face, announcing morning. So my good travel karma has not abandoned me: looks to be another beautiful day in Berlin.

Another day, another museum/memorial/monument. I heft my reluctant Central Standard Time body out of bed.

Potsdamer Platz may be Tourist Central, but the location is unrivaled: I walk a mere ten minutes to the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, which consists of 2,711 concrete slabs arranged in a grid pattern on a five-acre sloping field. The memorial has been plagued by controversy from its inception: criticism has included (but has not been limited to): lacking handicap access to... utilizing materials manufactured by companies that profited from the holocaust to... failing to acknowledge other (non-Jewish) victims of the holocaust, to...

I lean against a stone, sip my latte (should I be drinking a latte here? I don't know), and attempt to reach my own conclusions. My understanding of the arguments are rudimentary at best, but I see the memorial as worthwhile, A Good Thing. It's out-in-the-open and located in a busy section of the city: it can be neither avoided nor overlooked: sooner or later every parent will pass by it with their curious children and the history will have to be told (therefore, not forgotten, and hopefully never repeated.)

Enough caffeine, enough pseudo-philosophizery. I toss my cup into a bin and hoof it north. This trip has some weight to it. More than I'm used to.

The imposing Brandenburg Gate (five minutes away) guards over Pariser Platz, which teems with people, but no one pays attention to the innoucuous DZ Bank building, number 3, except for two guards standing in casual conversation. Rectangular and staid, blending innocently enough into the surroundings, it's easily overlooked. Am I allowed in there? I pass through the doors, feigning as though I know what I'm doing.

The unassuming facade belies the bizarre interior, a towering, curvaceous carp formed from titanium and glass as only Frank Gehry can design. I spend a minute or so alone in the lobby taking it in, sneak a photo, and scamper out. I don't think I'm allowed in here.