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| Berlin, Germany |
Berlin is a very cool city. It wasn’t quite as straight-laced as Austria, with their rigid escalator protocol and all. But there is still a German sense of order. The people are very friendly, and most speak English. I'm embarrassed to say we didn't see many of the most obvious landmarks in Berlin, most notably Checkpoint Charlie, which used to be the crossing point between east and west Berlin. When you travel for as long as we have, sometimes it just doesn't seem crucial to see certain places. We heard from two sources that Checkpoint Charlie is very cool, though, so I wish we had gone. I especially wish we had gone instead of the old war bunker we visited, which it turns out has been converted into a haunted house...complete with bloody animatronics and a guy who is paid to run around and startle you. That's what you get when you select your museums solely from a subway-pass-bundled coupon book.
Berlin is the first place we have been that was as crowded as we had been warned Europe would be in summer (ironically, we were there near the start of fall). Not crowded as in packed streets (which we've had all along), but crowded as in I called 12 hotels and all were booked, and Kelly and I were turned away from 2 restaurants because they were all booked up that night (a first). The first restaurant all booked I was really bummed about. It’s a restaurant that is pitch black, and you’re served and assisted while eating by blind people. I really wanted to try it and write about it here. I think it would be a very eye openi...nope, not gonna do it. It would have been really cool, and I’m bummed we missed it. The second restaurant that was “all booked” we visited in person, and saw that it was huge and completely empty. This is a restaurant that it is rumored Matt Damon recommended to Tom Hanks when the latter inquired where was a good place to eat in Berlin. There were 3 couples eating there, with the men in suits and ties. Kelly (who wanted to treat me to a nice dinner) and I came waltzing in, no reservations, in our best clothing. Our best clothing, however, for me consists of my mosquito retarding hooded long-sleeve shirt and I guess you could say matching REI convertible pants/shorts. The maitre dee, standing in front of a completely empty restaurant, told us he was fully booked before his eyes had even reached the reservations list to check availability, which he obviously did as formality only. Ah, the minuses of backpack travel.
Because Berlin was so crowded, we had to stay 30 minutes outside the main part of the city, which wasn’t a big deal because the subway connects the two fairly easily. Still, I was struck by how many warnings I had read about needing to pre-book rooms for European travel during the summer, only to experience almost no problems until it was nearly autumn in Berlin.
We visited the Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp in Berlin. We were there for a few hours, and the weather was overcast and blustery, which contributed to the creepiness of being in a place with the history it had. I've never been to a concentration camp before (although I have a foggy memory of being shown into a historic gas chamber somewhere, so I'm not positive), and it was really spooky. The camp was an enormous quad, fenced in with large stone walls (that used to be topped with electric fence). Within the quad were many different buildings and areas dedicated to roll call, sleeping, cooking, etc. With the help of the portable audio guide, I was able to get visions of what it must have been like to have been a prisoner there, and needless to say that vision was horrifying.
We met up for dinner with my Uncle Rick and Aunt Carol, as they were visiting Berlin at the same time we were. It was an extremely enjoyable evening. Lively conversation across a broad range of topics, and an excellent (fancy) meal. Kelly and I left their hotel with the now certain knowledge that Rick and Carol know everything about everything...except how to travel Europe with a single backpack...HA! Over dinner, Rick rattled off the names and nationalities of my entire extended family, and I educated him on the fact that I am traveling with only 2 pair of underwear.
We saw a movie in the Sony Theater in Germany. It’s a newish establishment where I’m pretty sure the theatres were underground (we took an escalator down...what a great idea!). We saw “The Village”. Pretty good flick, and the screen was huge and the sound superb, so I was very happy. The only thing that I wasn’t happy about was the yapping Americans. Now Kelly and I have long discussed the “ugly American” - the stereotypically rude, loud, overbearing U.S. tourist who is usually (but not always) from the greater New York area. We have been surprised, however, to find almost no ugly American tourists. This could be just statistical, as we have encountered few American tourists in many of the places we’ve been. There was the college frat boy (whom we immediately recognized as American by his baseball cap) who got off the ferry from Italy to Corfu and bellowed (with frat boy accent) “What’s up, Corfu?!” as he hi-fived his buddy. This was not so much obnoxious as horribly embarrassing. That being said, whenever we reach a new destination, Kelly and I hi-five each other and scream, “What’s up [destination]?!”.
If anything, it’s the British (much to the delight of all northern Europeans, I’m lumping the Irish and Scottish in with the British. Oh and maybe some ambiguously accented Australians too) who are more obnoxious. And here we’re not talking about true obnoxiousness, just loud voices, more energy than a situation calls for (always when drunk), and overuse of the word “mate”.
Anyway, back to the theater. So, having witnessed few obnoxious Americans, I was distressed to hear a group of about 8 American teens talking, laughing, and shut-upping each other throughout the movie. It started with the previews (which I don’t mind), continued through the intro credits (which I mind), and was not silenced well into and throughout the movie (which pisses me off). I know as well as anyone that teens can be this obnoxious, but I thought certainly in another country they would zip it, out of either respect or fear. They had neither, and I was forced to yell “Shut Up!!!” at full volume in the middle of the movie. This quieted them down somewhat, but there was still talking (although less). Kelly said later she was impressed that I yelled. She didn’t know I had it in me. After my outburst failed to achieve dead silence, I toyed with the idea of deliberately marching up to where they were sitting, getting in their face, and telling them they would need to shut up or.....I stopped thinking at the “or” because I realized at this point whatever I added would be a bluff. Just as sometimes happens in poker, I would be making a final bet to win a pot. If I had been called, however, I would have had to reveal my jack-high hand of "I’m going to tell the usher," which would be no better representation of an American than one who talks through a movie. Kelly and I got the last laugh though. As we left the theater, we talked between ourselves about how rude those kids were. Ha! That’ll teach ’em.
