Saturday, June 9, 2012

The Belly of the Beast (Berlin)


A man cannot be comfortable without his own approval.” - Mark Twain

Unquestionably, the most interesting city of the 20th century was Berlin. Two world wars were waged in its' front-yard , and the threat of an earth shattering third created tension that manifested itself deep in the cities psyche. Fascism, Communism, and Capitalism have all made visits; some longer than others. The city has welcomed great thinkers like Albert Einstein; and radical ones like Adolf Hitler. Gustav Ludwig Hertz, Max Planck, the brothers Grimm, and Karl Marx all studied at its university - certainly, it is a city of ideas. It has been host to the Olympics, and the Holocaust - the Victory Column, and the Berlin Wall. It has been divided, united, divided, and united again. John F. Kennedy, Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton, and Barack Obama have all given speeches within it's limits. Perhaps it is easy to imagine then that I arrived feeling a tad inconsequential.

Fortune has favored me on my trip thus far, and it was no different in Berlin. I met up with an old family friend who was kind enough to let me stay with him for the week; as I felt I needed a week to experience this fascinating city. The first thing I thought of, when walking down the streets with no destination in mind, rather hoping to get lost, was how much the city must have went through in repairing it's appearance after the second world war. It was relentlessly crushed with airstrikes, and most of the city was in rubble. How then do you proceed? Where do you start? Where do you end? These are questions I can't imagine trying to answer while looking at what must have seemed like Armageddon. It was repaired though, and then divided into four sections amongst the allied powers - for those of you whose history has gone absent since high school. Then shit got crazy. The Soviet Union pushed Communism while the West pushed Capitalism and this led to something called the Cold War. Joseph Stalin needed privacy, so he closed the borders with the West, and then Nikita Khrushchev was feeling constructive, so he decided to build a wall around it. This wall not only separated a city, but also a world, and became a symbol of the Cold War. It was where the East ended and the West began, or if you were a Soviet, where the West ended and the East began. I don't mean to bore with history, but this was the very wall I was standing next to, where only twenty three years ago, I could not go across. My impression of this monumental structure which separated the civilized world? - “ it is kind of small, I could easily get over this”. In fact, I probably could have gotten over it, but what is sometimes left out of the description, is the “death strip” between the wall I was at and a second wall of similar proportions. This was the challenge for those wishing to get to the other side, for Soviets with guns would be stationed at towers every so often, willing and ready to gun people down - lovely folks.

Checkpoint Charlie was the famous border crossing in this wall that was controlled by the United States during the Cold War. It is the epicenter of the confrontation between the United States and the Soviet Union during that time period. Now a days, it is a major tourist attraction, where people from around the world come to be in the very place where two worlds met in stand off; the planets future depending on the outcome. Right next to this is a museum full to capacity with documents, video footage, treaties, letters, speeches, maps, etc., of Cold War related material. When one walks through the front door, he looks above at a display of all the famous individuals who had been there throughout history. He sees the names of presidents and diplomats from all over the world, famous celebrities who took political stands, poets, writers, musicians, directors, and Olympic athletes. Then, as he is turning away, one sign catches his eye at the last moment, and he looks closer, then he squints: “Does that say David Fucking Hasselhoff!?...........It does!”. In fact, it really does, and the absurdity doesn't end there – he is labeled “American Musician”; bear with me:

Who is David Hasselhoff?:

I know the answer to this question; it is plain, and my intentions are not to defy hopes and shatter dreams; rather to enlighten and shed wisdom. David Hasselhoff is a mediocre American ACTOR who starred in Baywatch and Knight Rider. Entertaining – yes. Funny – yes. Charismatic – why not? Absolutely, in no way, is he anything more. I apologize Germany for this blunt testimony; it is never pleasing to discover that Santa Claus is a broke man, who has been out of work since September, and is trying to keep the lights on in his third story apartment, or that professional wrestling may not be telling you the full truth, but you must know - so goes life. This farce ends now.

Indeed, Berlin has many great places to visit, and one could stay for years and never learn all the details, or experience all the history, but then you would miss out on the nightlife, which has become famous on it's own. The city parties and does not stop. In Spain, I said this figuratively, here, it is a literal sentence. Seemingly, nothing ever closes. The first wave of delinquents come early and end up leaving to “fall asleep”, passing by the second wave, who come a little later. Then, the second wave drinks until mid morning, and leaves to “fall asleep”, passing by the first wave who have taken what must have been a nap and are back at it again. I haven't even mentioned the wave that comes and doesn't leave; primarily because they are not a wave; more of a tide. Crazy - this city; I can only imagine what happens on the weekends!    



Tuesday, June 5, 2012

The Black Forest


"The proper function of man is to live, not to exist.  I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them.  I shall use my time." - Jack London


In Southwest Germany lies an area small in comparison with most regions of Europe. It is a cozy place where myths and fairy-tales are plentiful; roaming freely around the mind, and taking residence in the imagination. It is a place where history has routes so deep, they have routes of their own; and where people come to breathe in comfort, and exhale stress. Rich in majesty is this place in Southwest Germany. It understands you as you try to understand it. It goes by a simple name, yet perfect – The Black Forest.

Many towns lie within it's realm, but I chose Freiburg as my locale for experience. It is a medieval town with Gothic cathedrals, cobbled streets, trolley systems, old defense towers, and a spectacular above ground drainage system. The houses have a style all their own; different from anywhere else in Europe I've seen. They manage a dark-age look while utilizing welcoming, bright colors – and they pull it off; mores the wonder. Gargoyles watch down on people from the most peculiar spots, and one gets the impression they are being accounted for at every moment. Sure, it has become a tourist destination, as is the inescapable truth with areas so unique, but if one is careful, the masses can be avoided by staying off the main shopping expressways. Outside the town is a whole different story. The forest raps around the fringe of the city like an encroaching army of crows; ready to devour anything that drops. At first, it is an intimidating monster, but once in it, it becomes a loveable acquaintance; a reliable companion - it is a worst enemy who turns best friend. I experienced this from my camping ground, where I began my 16 km hike through the Black Forest to the town of St. Peter.

The terrain is no different than Virginia, with it's rolling hills trying desperately to obtain mountain status, and it's farms that dot the landscape in between stands of forest. The difference is in the vegetation; trees in particular. The Black forest owns an encouraging diversity of them. Deciduous trees are abundant (Beech, Oak, Elm, Larch), but also are enormous conifer trees (Spruce, Pine, Douglas Fir). The mixture gives the Black Forest a look like no other; bright green and embracing with dark green and rejecting. With a lack of thick underbrush, this makes a scene perfect for the tall tales of fairy's, dwarfs, and gnomes that are so common to the area. Hiking through the forest, I felt like I was being watched by one of these mythic creatures; though I had my doubts of it! What I knew was the woods had an allure that I've rarely felt before, and would be surprised to feel again – outside of the Black Forest.


At the dusk of my hike, I went walking through old farmlands, where the farmers I came across; wearing a mix of modern and traditional clothing, greeted me with “Gutentag!”. I felt so ensconced in the culture; like I was a farmhand on the way back from a trek to the next village for supplies; and neighbors, going about their daily chores, were kind enough to wish me on my way. Only if they had treated me to a cold German beer, would I have been happier. Continuing through to my destination at St. Peter, I kept a steady pace, and when I reached the cathedral in St. Peter; I had been hiking for a mere 5 hours. It felt a lot longer; it felt like days, but when I reached the town, I was ready to get back to Freiburg. I found the road and began thumbing for a ride, until coming across a bus stop. Someone there told me, in a wonderful German accent, that hitch-hiking died in the area a long time ago and that I should get on the bus – so I took his advice and did, though I maintain I would have been picked up shortly; when hitching, one gets a good sense of these things. Upon reaching Freiburg, I had dinner with a couple from a small town outside Frankfurt. We talked a long time about the differences in their country versus mine, and I learned more about Germany than any one American has the right to know. Do yourself a favor and look up the history of the German Region (as it did not become a nation until after three wars waged in the late 19th century) and you will be anything but disappointed.


By and by, preparing for my exit of Freiburg, I felt like leaving a friends house . The Black Forest has become one of the best places I've visited. There is nothing wrong with it! The people are lovely, the scenery is gorgeous, the stories are incredible, the history is fascinating, and the food is great. I feel that, had I looked for days to find something negative to say about this place, I would have failed absolutely. Even as I was departing the town, trying to catch an early train at 7:00am., I couldn't escape the glorious culture. Across the street I was walking on, and through sleepy eyes, I saw what can only be described as wonderful; people drinking outside bars as if it were still mid-night! They were laughing, talking loudly and chugging beers like true Germans. I looked at the sky, and then my watch, to confirm it was the morning, and low and behold, it was. Magnificent.