In which Roz and Layla go in search of Christmas in Berlin (and find art, cheesecake and Syrian refugees)

By Roz

We touched down in Berlin late, neither of us sure what to expect – both of us have been to Berlin before, separately, and neither of us had loved it. But everyone we speak to seems enchanted by Berlin and we were ready to follow suit – and particularly ready to succumb to the Christmas vibe of the city.  Throwing caution to the wind (a tiny bit) we hopped into a taxi from the airport to try and make up for some of the time we’d lost through our plane being late.  Relatively swiftly we were in our tiny AirBnB flat on the outskirts of an area called Kreuzberg – a locale about which we’d read vehement descriptions as hip (though their very vehemence rather reminded me about how I used to describe the area of London I lived in before – Camberwell – which was more aspirationally hip than absolutely hip…).

Having dumped our stuff in our new home, we hesitated over the right plan for the night, feeling a bit intimidated by the depressing vibe of our street… and then decided to leap on a train and head straight into the centre of the city to visit a Christmas market and drink Gluwein (which is rather like mulled wine if you haven’t had it – if you have, please forgive what I’m sure is heresy).  It was very cheery meandering around the festive stalls, watching a little ice skating and listening to Christmas music.  We then headed back in the direction of Kreuzberg to have Italian food in a cool place called the Gorgonzola Club.  (The irony of coming straight from Venice to have Italian food in Germany does not escape me.  However, German food isn’t absolutely vegetarian-friendly…)  Candles twinkled and hipsters abounded: phew! We then wandered home via a cocktail bar in a basement where they served terrific concoctions (if so strong that I am ashamed to say that Layla had to conveniently spill some of hers to avoid the shame of leaving a drink that the bartender was clearly very proud of). 

Next morning, we were up relatively bright and early for a free walking tour of Berlin.  Our tour guide did a nice job of taking us through German history in an interesting way (starting in the 12^th century!)  and showing us the standard tourist sites from the Brandenburg Gate to the Holocaust Memorial to the spot of Hitler’s bunker and Checkpoint Charlie.  Not exactly cheery but it was an interesting and efficient way to see them.  We were more than ready for lunch at the end of the tour and were delighted to find a mainly vegetarian but otherwise wholly chic place nearby.  As I debated salad sizes with the waitress (ah, some traits from America will never leave me I suspect!), I unfortunately came up with the peculiar question “which do most middle-aged ladies order?”.  Ah, I have never embraced middle age or going with the norm before, and yet I managed to do both in one sentence. Layla cried with laughter. (The waitress later asked me whether the size had been right and I have a vision of her giving future customers kindly advice “well, I understand the medium salad is about right for most middle aged ladies…”) 

Our plan for the afternoon was to explore a couple of different northern areas of the city by foot.  Unfortunately, Berlin turns out to be the opposite of Venice – there you look at the map and think the destination must be far, far away, and then find you get there in a couple of minutes, whilst in Berlin places look close and then you find the opposite is true.  Nonetheless, we had fun walking up in the direction of the Jewish area (including past the British Embassy which I waved hello to) and to the Hamburger Bahnhofstrasse Museum, which is a modern art museum housed in a former railway station.  We fortified ourselves with coffee and cake first in a cool little museum cafe, and then enjoyed meandering round the first part of the museum, which had mainly Warhols and Lichtensteins.  We mused that the museum had turned out to be smaller than we had expected as we left these galleries – and then found that we’d only touched the surface of the museum and found lots of experimental works in what looked like old railway sidings.  We had fun walking through the endless galleries and playing on video games (something I always find both fun and surprisingly hard since it wasn’t part of my childhood), which were inexplicably one of the exhibits. 

We continued on with our walking route (though by this time my legs were pointing out that this wasn’t absolutely what they were accustomed to in London) and eventually ended up in a posh and apparently tourist-filled area which turned out to have very cool linked brick buildings full of galleries and shops and even a cinema, but though they were open, the whole area was somewhat disconcertingly deserted and grim.  We meandered through, picking up some fortifying chocolate for Layla, and then scrapped any plans to linger and headed back into the centre of Berlin. 

Our plan for the evening was dinner and then Star Wars.  Layla is not at all a Star Wars fan, and I’m only moderately enthusiastic (by which I mean I’ve seen the first film numerous times, the second and third once and the newer films not at all).  But this film has had such glowing reviews and there’s been much chat about it having the first properly feminist lead, that I wanted to jump on the bandwagon.  There was an awesome-sounding old East Berlin cinema, Kino International, which had it on at the right time, and I was foolishly confident that we’d find somewhere nice to eat close by. It took so long to walk there that our legs were wailing and our teeth were chattering by the time the cinema finally came into view. Then we found there was absolutely nowhere to eat, nice or otherwise, in the vicinity (but we walked another mile just to make sure).  We ended up in a flap and then in the unfortunate position of pretty much missing out on dinner (bar some random snacks).  On the plus side, however, the cinema was beautiful – the inside was a little like the Royal Festival Hall in London (despite having been built 15 years later) and there was delicious Reisling to sustain us too.  We both thought the film was excellent and the cheery vibe of being there with a lot of very excited people more or less made up for the lack of dinner (especially the guy behind us brandishing his own light sabre…). 

We woke up the next morning feeling rather hungry (even hungrier than usual, I mean).  This was the perfect justification for us to walk in the direction of one of Kreuzberg’s cool cafes, Five Elephant (said to have the best coffee and the best cheesecakes in Berlin) along the lovely Landwehrkanal (you might be able to guess that this is a canal).  Despite the time of year (or do I mean because of it?) it was a lovely walk with a blue sky and austere looking trees lining the canal and various locals walking their dogs.  The café lived up to its reputation and their banana bread was also excellent, so we enjoyed our stop there, including spending much time trying to lure a small dog, also in the café, to be friendly.  Whilst there, we concocted the slightly odd plan of walking to a nearby, somewhat dodgy park to play indoor mini-golf.  We were frustrated in this plan by the fact that the mini-golf was closed for the winter (Berliners have inadequate devotion to mini-golf it seems), so we summoned our remaining walking muscles and continued across the river, past some cool buildings, and on to the East Side Gallery – an outdoor display of murals painted by artists along a remaining piece of the Berlin Wall to capture their thoughts about it coming down. Interesting stuff.

I was fearful that we’d end up in another scenario where we walked so far that my legs wanted to fall off.  And so when Layla, after some urgent research to find ideas for somewhere to pass a delightful afternoon, announced that our next destination (and lunch) was a mere hour’s walk away, I determinedly steered us onto a bus.  Stepping off the bus in posh west Kreutzberg, I feared the plan might have been flawed when first the place we’d had in mind for lunch proved to be closed for Christmas and the streets seemed deserted. Happily we’d just walked down a disappointing street. Which made it all the more glorious when we turned the corner and unexpectedly found ourselves in a delightful indoor food market, reminiscent of Union Market (Washingtonians) or Borough Market (Londoners).  We had a delicious lunch of quiche and salad and such like and then meandered around, stopping for coffee and Turkish tea. 

From here we headed to Templehof park.  This is a defunct airport, used during the Berlin blockade, which has now been turned into a park. For a change, this destination was close by, and my legs rejoiced.  It’s not hard to find an airport entrance and so once spotted, we headed towards it confidently.  We were soon stopped by some bemused looking police and after a while realised that the former airport terminal building is now being used to process Syrian refugees and that this was what we were trying to barge our way into.  Oops.  We eventually found the airport-turned-park entrance.  Unsurprisingly, tons of Syrian refugees were kicking around the area, including hanging out in the park and after it dawned on me that they’d take us for German locals I felt it incumbent on me to smile enthusiastically at each one in an encouraging and welcoming fashion.  I fear the end result was more maniacal than would have been optimal.  But I meant well.  As we meandered round the airfield, watched people flying kites and pretended to be planes on the runway (did I really just confess this?), we mused on how handy it would be for the authorities to have such a large building in the centre of the city (it’s the civil servant in me) but we also mused that it seemed most odd that such a big building had remained basically empty and unused for such a long time. Is it wrong to think: that would make amazing flats!

Afterwards we wandered back to the food market for some gluwein before hopping on a metro to go bowling.  This proved a very cheery experience, and I say that even though Layla won both games.  But it felt like our bowling balls had some magic about them, since neither of us have played so well – with numerous strikes – in years (for which read ever).  From bowling it was a surprisingly short walk home when we had a quick rest before dinner at a really excellent Italian place (I know, again not German) for some delicious small plates.  They played pretty much every Christmas song I know (cheery) and we entertained ourselves by musing on New Year resolutions and eavesdropping on a nearby table where a German boy was introducing his non-German-speaking English girlfriend to his not-enthusiastic-about-speaking-English family. 

Our plane to Jordan was early afternoon the next day, so our morning was composed of quickly packing and then a lovely walk round Tiergarten (Berlin’s answer to Central Park the philistine would say).  It’s a beautiful and interesting park, with a only a few locals and seemingly no tourists.  It felt a cheery way to spend the morning of Christmas Eve and we skipped with joy at the thought of a whole 10 more days of holiday. I felt a bit sheepish at not feeling sorrier at leaving Berlin… I had expected to fall in love with its quirky, hipster, arty vibe, but while I enjoyed the art museum and the cool cinema and the lovely parks, somehow it all felt a bit flat and utilitarian and uncharming, and somehow so ensnared in its dreadful history that it seems to be struggling to write new chapters, as though doing so would unacceptably distract from the horrors. We were left seeking the city’s 21^st century personality in vain. It didn’t even feel all that festive, despite a hundred Christmas markets. But with everyone else raving about Berlin, we must be doing it wrong, somehow. Maybe it’s a city you need to spend more time in if it’s to grow on you… or maybe Layla and I are just Philistines… at any rate we’ll be there for a final day at the end of the holiday, so we’ll give it one more chance… But for now, goodbye Berlin and hello Amman!