Ponpon Tanuki

Last week I had a brief visit to Berlin. It was a spur of the moment decision. I'd been feeling increasingly bored and depressed in Cambridge, and a friend suggested I needed a change of scene. Arakin, a fur who lives in Berlin had invited me over some months ago so I checked dates, booked flights, and arranged for a dog sitter for a couple of days (Whitepaw, whom I trust absolutely to take good care of Molly.)

The only previous time I had been to Berlin was in January 1990, when I was working as a student in Hamburg and our research group took a day trip to Berlin. The Wall was yet to come down, but there was freedom of movement between the East and West. I remember walking in the "dead zone" between the two sides of the wall, climbing an observation tower, chipping off a few pieces of the wall to take home to friends and family, being amazed that this was all possible. I remember the drabness of the Eastern half, the dusty shop windows with their meagre displays. I don't remember much else. It was a long time ago.

I flew out on Wednesday night, and arrived in Berlin at about 22:30. I had been relying on data roaming on my phone to navigate myself. It didn't work (and didn't for the duration of the trip) so I ended up taking a few wrong turns on the S-Bahn (I am a total derp at public transport) but eventually arrived at Arakin's flat before midnight. We hadn't met in real life before but had been talking on Twitter for two or three years. His flat was full of furry stuff, raccoon- and dragon- and pony-themed mostly but I was pleased to see a tanuki figurine. :) We drank beer and talked about the kind of things that furries talk about. Arakin had work the next day and about 01:30 we called it a night. He set up his sofa bed (from IKEA, very comfortable), handed me a large plush bunny and we said goodnight.

In the morning we went to the local supermarket for pastries (delicious) for breakfast before Arakin had to go to work. The sky was grey but it had not started raining yet.

I decided to get the tram to Alexanderplatz and wander westwards from there. I walked past the Berliner Fernsehturm, the Neptunbrunnen and the Rotes Rathaus towards Museum Island. There was a lot of construction work going on (for the U5 extension, I think) and I was disappointed that Museum Island was inaccessible from the direction I took. St Hedwig's Cathedral was open and I went in. Inside it was peaceful, sober, understated. I didn't get any of the hints of eternity which I sometimes find in French or Italian churches. This was very much a temporal building, but elegant and worth a visit.

As I left St Hedwigs a few drops of rain landed on me. The forecast had not been encouraging. I took the U-Bahn to Potsdamer Platz and by the time I left the station the rain was starting to fall in earnest. I wandered around for a few minutes then took refuge in the Sony Centre, as many other people were doing. I thought about having a beer, but it was before midday and that's too early even for me. The rain got heavier, beating a racket on the roof. When it seemed to ease off a bit I decided to brave it and started walking towards the Brandenburg Gate. I was wearing a North Face jacket which kept my head and upper body dry but my trousers and shoes were soaked within minutes. I squelched on as I wasn't going to get any wetter.

The rain was keeping people away from the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. There was one other small group apart from myself, which meant that I was able to experience it without anyone climbing the slabs or taking selfies. The Memorial has apparently caused a lot of controversy for the lack of information on Nazi atrocities, and the claim that it "ritualises" or pays lip-service to the Holocaust (https://goo.gl/eKdrEZ ). I can only talk about my reactions to it as a piece of abstract art. From the edge it doesn't look like much, just an expanse of grey concrete blocks. Walking towards the centre, the ground gradually falls away and the blocks rise above head height. As I walked further in I suddenly felt completely alone, cut off from the city, cut off from humanity, and a shiver went through me. The blocks were like alien structures. The feeling of claustrophobia deepened into a kind of horror, and finally implacable sadness. I was glad to get out of there. As a piece of art, it is extraordinary.

I walked one block on to the Brandenburg Gate. There were lots of people there sheltering from the rain. It was a bit after midday. I decided I had had enough and went back to Arakin's, buying snacks and beer on the way. I spent the afternoon watching Rick and Morty, and Wild, a German film about a young woman, alienated from bourgeoise life, finding meaning with a wolf.

Arakin and I had planned to go out to a restaurant that night but the rain was a constant deluge, so we got takeaway pizza and chatted and watched High Rise (a film I found kind of ponderous and silly).

It was still raining at 09:00, the kind of rain which would have submerged whole streets in Cambridge, but I didn't see any flooding in Berlin (there were several tram malfunctions however). An hour later the rain finally stopped and I left the flat.

The first place I went was the Bauhaus Archiv, a small but interesting selection of items from the Bauhaus School of design. Then I walked to the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church, which Theo Spaniel had suggested I visit. It's a contemporary church built within the ruins of the original church, which was badly damaged by Allied bombing during WWII. The new church is quite small and dark inside, with tiny square stained-glass windows, mostly blue with splashes of warmer colours. Suspended above the altar, instead of a cross or crucifix there's a large gold-coloured sculpture of Christ, apparently hovering in mid-air and perhaps blessing the congregation. I wasn't convinced by the sculpture, but the stained glass was beautiful.

The highlight of the day was the Käthe Kollwitz Museum. I had been vaguely aware of Kollwitz, but had not looked at much of her art before. It grabs you, powerfully expressive, full of compassion and anger (although Kollwitz herself said that she was originally motivated by beauty rather than pity.) The collection includes a number of works by some of her contemporaries, and the contrasts between the different artists is illuminating.

The rain was holding off so I thought I'd go for a wander in the Tiergarten, stopping for a beer and a veggie currywurst on the way (simultaneously disgusting and delicious). The Tiergarten was shady and peaceful. I passed a woman with a gorgeous white Shepherd, and stopped to listen to a trombonist practising under a tree (why was he there? Are squirrels an appreciative audience?) I walked from the Victory Column out of the park to the Brandenburg Gate. It started to rain again, so I headed back to the flat.

That evening Arakin and I went out for Chinese food followed by crepes and ice cream in a gay/punk/80s themed gelateria, and then beer. Early the next morning I headed back to the UK. It was a very brief trip but I needed it, and had an awesome time despite the weather. Arakin is a solicitous host and a lovely guy. I can't wait to go again, maybe taking Molly next time.