Tuesday, January 27, 2009
London-Berlin

When I had last been to Germany, more than two decades ago, as a back-packing grad student in England, the country had been divided in two and parts of it still lay concealed behind the Iron Curtain. Berlin was one of those parts and ever since the Reunification of the country, I have wanted to visit this place and walk in the footsteps of the history of the 20th century. When I knew that I would be posted in London for a year, my first thought was, “Ah, now I shall finally be able to make a trip to Berlin”; but then in November, when I had booked my air tickets to get there, I had to cancel my plans as Plantar Fascittis took over my life. At the next available opportunity, I booked tickets again and this time too, I almost did not board the flight—indeed, I felt pretty certain that I was not destined to see Berlin in my lifetime.

I thought I would spend the morning at the National Gallery finishing up the last 6 galleries that I still need to study. But when I awoke, I felt guilty that I hadn’t yet transcribed the two interviews I had done with my Anglo-Indians subjects Vivian and Dorothy Lawless—so I decided to get cracking on those and, boy, did they take ages! I spent hours working on getting their views and words in order and before I knew it, it was well past lunchtime. I spent an hour packing and getting organized for my departure to Berlin and at exactly 1 pm, I left my flat to take the bus to Victoria to catch the Easybus van to Stanstead airport. So…don’t even ask me where the day went. I was glued to my PC but, in the end, I did finish the interviews and did email them off to my office at NYU to be printed out on Monday. Having accomplished this great task, I felt that I could leave for Berlin without feeling guilty about devoting so much time to the sheer pleasure of travel.

Almost Missing my Flight…
The Easybus van left Victoria on schedule. My Ryanair flight was scheduled to depart from Stanstead at 6. 45 pm. I was scheduled to arrive there at 4. 45 pm. Except that from the Get Go, we were held up in awful traffic—indeed all the way out of London and on to the motorway, we dodged traffic and then just when we were 20 miles away from Stanstead, we came to a dead halt—and did not move again for another hour! You can just imagine the despair of every single passenger in the van as, one after the other, they gave up hopes of making their flights. I called Llew to tell him that I was certain to miss my flight as there was a massive pile-up on the motorway. Still, refusing to give up hope, I began praying and I knew that if I arrived at the airport even at 6 pm, there was still a chance I might make it. Well, somewhat miraculously, the roads opened out and I spied a tow van taking a black vehicle off the road—it probably was a bad accident that led to so many passengers missing their flights.

As for me, it was exactly 6 pm, when I dashed out of the van and down the ramp to the Ryanair Check-in machines, obtained my boarding card, saw the instructions that told me to Proceed to the Gate and ran through the security lines. I had learned from my mistakes of the past for I carried only a very tiny transparent plastic bag with a few travel sized toiletries which I placed separately in a tray and, miracle of miracles, I cleared security within five minutes and was racing off to my gate where Boarding had not yet begun. I called Llew to tell him that I had made the flight after all and then I was off.

Arrival in Berlin:
I arrived, just 90 minutes later, at Berlin’s Schonefeld airport at 9.15 pm local time because Berlin is one hour ahead of London. My friend Anja Brug had arranged for me to spend my days in the apartment of her close friend Anneke who lives near Hamburg and uses the Berlin apartment so rarely that she is glad to have travelers use it occasionally. Anja herself had to dash out of Berlin to travel to Munich during the time I was there and felt awful to leave me on my own in the city. However, she had left me detailed instructions on how to get to the apartment from the airport where her Italian boyfriend Andrea was scheduled to meet me.

Now, despite being a very experienced solo world traveler, I have to say that I am always nervous about arriving in a strange country after dark especially when I cannot speak the language. My German is non-existent and using the S-Bahn to get to Hallensee, where the apartment was located, involved making a change that left me rather ill-at-ease. I was pleased, therefore, to find myself sharing a seat on the aircraft with an English student named Rosy who knew Berlin well and was a very able guide as she helped me buy a ticket from the ticket machine and rode part of the journey along the S-Bahn with me. At the point where I need to make a change, I made friends with another German woman named Ingeborg, who was also able to speak English and, hallelujah, she was taking the same train I needed to get off at the same stop—Hallensee! God works His miracles in the most wonderful ways and I was grateful for these blessings!

However, by the time we arrived at Hallensee, it was well past 11 pm and I was terrified about walking alone along Sessenerstrasse to get to the apartment. For one thing, it was dreadfully cold—far colder than it had been in London—and for another, well, the streets were deserted. There was not another soul in sight and as I pulled my backpack along, it seemed to echo eerily on the silent streets. I must admit that I felt very uneasy indeed. I am very glad that I had checked Google Earth before I left the house to find my bearings and get a sense of exactly where I was required to go once I got off the train. This proved very useful in boosting my self-confidence as I passed the cross streets and finally arrived at Number 6 Halberstädter Straße.
There, to my enormous relief, Andrea was awaiting my arrival (I had been in telephonic contact with him from the time I touched down at the airport) and he showed me the ropes. I had last met Andrea in Athens when Llew and I had been traveling in Greece in November.

A Most Unusual Apartment:
Anneke’s apartment is unusual to say the very least—it is an extremely bohemian space in a very old Pre-War part of Hallensee called Charlottenberg which is at the extreme West End of Berlin. The building is in a neighborhood that is made up of very similar ones that stand on cobbled streets. You enter through an imposing old heavy door into a vast hallway with a great big marble fireplace (yes, in the hall) and an elevator that looks as if it has come out of an old Alfred Hitchcock movie like Charade with Audrey Hepburn! At close to midnight, it all appeared a bit discomforting to me, though Andrea showed me my way around very competently.

You enter a large room filled with books and bookshelves and old armoires filled with bed linen and down comforters (which he failed to show me, so that I was cold for three out of the four nights that I was there). This is a ground floor apartment (that once belonged to the concierge of the building) and to access the kitchen, you descend down a winding spiral, wrought-iron staircase. This great space contains a very functional, very well-stocked kitchen and a bathroom space that includes an old-world claw-footed bath tub and a wash basin. The trouble is that there is a window right above the bath tub and though Andrea assured me that no one could look into the apartment, I could see the building on the opposite side of the street through the basement windows and I felt odd about taking a shower in such a space. I felt glad suddenly that my friend Liz Kaplan had cancelled her plans to join me in Berlin from New York as I am sure she would never have coped with such hippie arrangements!

As if this were not adequate, Andrea told me that the WC was located right outside the apartment, on the other end of the corridor! He led the way to a small unheated cubicle where there was a commode well-concealed and locked behind two closed doors. He gave me a key to the toilet and told me that no one else was able to use it except me—but I have to say that I resolved that I would use the loo last thing at night and then pray that I had no reason to have to visit the facilities during the night because, seriously, wild horses would not drive me to get there in the middle of the night along those dark corridors that were lit by light switches that appeared at intervals and glowed red to guide you to them! It’s ironic that I mentioned that the entire space reminded me of 50’s Hollywood movies because Anneke is a Hollywood film buff and her kitchen is decorated with black and white movie posters of Sophia Loren and Shirley MacLaine, John Wayne and Cary Grant!

Andrea left in a few minutes and, dead tired, I settled down for the night, hoping that I would not awake in the middle of it.