In our nation's capital

A couple of weeks ago, I flew to Berlin for the weekend, and I timed this visit to co-incide with a Germany vs Sweden Aussie Rules game. It just so happened that my trip also co-incided with Matt’s stay in Berlin, although only slightly – I arrived Friday night, he left Saturday morning. What totally destroyed any chance of spending time together was the two-hour delay of my 45 minute flight. In fact, by the time I made it to Berlin by plane, I could have also made it by car (I could have even beaten the flight if I’d driven like a hardcore German person). I made it to the main train station at about 11pm, where I met Matt and ate some Burger King for dinner. Then Matt walked me to my hostel, flicked through the photos of his trip up to that point, then bid me adieu and headed back to his hostel. Oh well, at least the flight only cost me €56 return.

As I crept quietly down the corridor towards my room, I became intrigued by the hostel’s décor. I knew it was going to be something a little different, judging from the website, but it was like no hostel I’d seen before. It was new, for a start, and the design was based on the book Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Instead of a sign saying “Dorms”, this hostel had signs saying “To the Cabins!”:



The room was also incredibly cool, with a wall of glass instead of a tiny window, interesting furnishings and a wacky wacky paint-job:



Although, being the respectful person I am, I didn’t see the room’s design until the morning because I made my way to my top bunk bed guided solely by my ever-handy LED keyring (thanks Chris). Putting sheets on a top bunk bed in complete darkness, without making any noise, is a very tricky process, but I eventually managed it and crashed for the night.

The fact that I wasn’t woken up before my alarm went off at 9 (combined with the distinct sounds of breaking wind), alerted me to the fact my room was mostly filled with guys, and despite being the last to bed, I was the first person out of the room that morning. I waved to a couple of my room-mates, who stirred as I opened the door, then made my way downstairs for a quick breakfast, before setting off for the German Technology Museum.



Now, Berlin has ~170 museums, so I had searched quite a few websites for tips on which ones to see. The German Tech Museum was one that had been recommended, and for someone like me, who doesn’t really take much interest in art, it was a good choice. This place was filled to the brim with planes…



Trains…



Ships…



And had a couple of windmills chucked in for good measure:



I spent ages reading about the history of shipping, from the Vikings to the Spanish, to good ol’ Jimmy Cook and his Endeavour.



I then wandered around the huge grounds, trying to take in as much as possible in the short time I had, before heading to the other side of town for some international footy action.



The weather went from cloudy to rainy to freezing – I had to feel sorry for the men on the field. Especially the one who did his knee in about 1m in front of where I was standing after rolling badly – he swore in fluent English for about 5 minutes before whatever they were spraying on his knee kicked in. Germany started off strong, but Sweden came back in the second half and was within a few straight kicks at ¾ time. Observe the German team below in their ¾-time huddle, obviously caring very little about the cheerleaders to their left (yes, there were cheerleaders – I informed the German crowd nearby that that’s not how it’s done Down Under).



Sweden had the ball within 30m of goal a couple of minutes before the siren (well, the horn), but luckily Germany held on to win by 5 points. Happy days.



Seeing as I hadn’t met any friendly sports fans that were keen to party on (the German girls I was chatting to headed home), combined with my ever-growing headache, I decided to go back to the hostel to re-coup. Amazingly, one of the guys in my room was STILL sleeping, so I quietly climbed up to my bed and started thinking about what to do next. I was at a bit of a loss – couldn’t really handle more museums, didn’t feel up for the pub crawl that Matt had been on, was too lazy to wander around town aimlessly – but luckily another room-mate came in at that point and said “Howsitgoin?”. Excited to hear the familiar Aussie drawl (and this guy was as “typical Aussie bloke” as you could get without the wife-beater and stubbies), I started to chat to my new buddy Andrew. The sleeping guy didn’t seem to mind our conversation, although after an hour he woke up and introduced himself as Taylor the Canadian. He left to meet some friends, and Andrew and I headed down to the bar for a beer. Andrew told me that he had been out the previous night with most of our room-mates, and was meeting two of them (sisters from Holland) later that evening. One by one, the occupants of the other bunks trickled in and eventually the group followed a bunch of slightly-hippy guys from the States to a “really cool bar” they had found the night before. On the way, we ran into Taylor the Canadian, who seemed to speak as much bad German as he did English, and one of his friends, and they subsequently followed us to the bar.

The “bar”, if you could call it that, was straaaaaaange. At first glance, it looked like someone’s living room, but then we walked down stairs and it turned more into someone’s basement. Party lights, kitch furniture, paintings and posters up everywhere, and strange videos playing on a circa-1981 TV set. Taylor and his buddy (below) were a bit confused by it all.



There was also a DJ up the back, spinning records for the 4 people already occupying one of the couches. For me, the strangest thing was the content of the artworks – it was full-on anti George W. Bush propaganda, the likes of which I’ve never seen before. Upstairs, they had T-shirts, hats, postcards, etc. on sale



but downstairs was what mesmerised me the most. I took heaps of photos, but the darkness blurred most of them. Here’s one though, showing the central artwork, which makes a play on the Kennedy quote “Ich bin ein Berliner” – he was attempting to say “I am a Berliner”. Bushy up there says “Ich bin kein Berliner” – I am not a Berliner. With this incorrect sentence structure though, both presidents are referring to jam doughnuts, and not the citizens of the German capital, but that’s what you get from English-speakers ;)



Oddly, the Americans thought it was fantastic, so we humoured them and stayed for awhile and enjoyed the €1.70 beers. A significantly smaller group of us then went in search of some German nightclub action, but sadly we couldn’t find anything, so we got kebabs instead. But not before stumbling across an upside-down helicopter in a parking lot, which forms the backdrop for this photo of Taylor, Fika and Andrew:



After the kebabs, we went home, made a lot of noise (sorry to the new girl in the room who was trying to sleep), then went to sleep at about the time the sun was coming up.

For Sunday, I had planned to go on another Fat Tyre bike tour (see Paris entry), and luckily it didn’t start till 11am. So I had time to get a few hours sleep, haul myself out of bed, then walk the few blocks to the TV tower, where the tour began.



Amazingly, Sunday was the first day in three weeks that the sun had been shining in Berlin - score! This time, our enthusiastic tour guide was Ingo, the first American to be enrolled in an East Berlin school after the fall of the Berlin wall, according to the brochure. Apparently he was born in Germany, then lived in the States, then went back to Germany when he was 10, so he’d basically learned and forgotten German and English once each, but eventually reached fluency in both. All that aside, he was fantastic to look at for the duration of the tour, which we all know is the most important thing for a tour guide. Reminded me of a fairer Jamie Durie… Anyway, back to the tour – here’s me with Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, who wrote The Communist Manifesto together:



The tour was fantastic – we covered so much ground, saw heaps of places I wouldn’t have even known about, and we didn’t get back to headquarters till about 5pm. That’s value for money! (I should get paid for this advertising...) Among other things, we went to Checkpoint Charlie, the third checkpoint on the way from West Germany to East Berlin (the first two being Alpha and Bravo), and I saw some real US soldiers… I think – can anyone tell me why they’re standing there?:



We saw where the Berlin Wall used to be...
photo), and a stretch of the wall that still remained...



...visited one of the watch towers, where young recruits used to prevent people escaping from the East, with the order of “shoot them, or be shot yourself”...



...spent some time at the memorial for murdered Jews – the different sized blocks represent the individual tombs of those who lost their lives due to racial persecution:



Then we lightened up the mood a little and had lunch in a beer garden, where I had a chat to two girls from Sydney who had been working in London for five years, and an American nanny who was in town for 4 months or so with her boss’s family. Her boss was working on a new Hollywood blockbuster, and the assistant director and one of the chauffers were also on the tour – so cool. Below is one of the Aussie girls (she designs bags for Puma – how good is that?) and Ingo, who’d just had a revolutionary idea:



I can’t remember what the idea was now, but at the time, I decided to take a photo for *ahem* posterity. On the way back to the TV tower, we rode along the river and saw some of the fantastic new buildings that epitomise Berlin, in my mind. The city was not at all what I expected, because it was so spaced out and had so many ultra-modern buildings and stretches of grass. In that way, it reminded me a bit of Canberra. The
cool building below is the office of the German Chancellor, Angela Merkel:



in Germany, the Chancellor is basically the President, and the actual President plays the part that the Queen of England does in Australia.

One of the final destinations on the tour was the Bundestag – the German Parliament House. This building is classic Berlin – a combination of old and new, and set on expansive grounds. Here’s the whole crew in front of the Bundestag:



Just before we reached the TV tower, we passed one of my favourite buildings in Berlin… You guessed it, it’s ANOTHER DOM!!!



Humorously, this dirty great big cathedral is located right in front of the “Lustgarten”, which in English translates to “Pleasure Garden”. Think of that what you will…

My last morning was basically wasted in this line:



Waiting to climb this:



Yes, it’s the big glass dome on top of the Bundestag, and future travellers, do not waste your time on this one – it’s not worth it!! Before I left for the airport, I managed to get a couple of photos of the pedestrian lights in Berlin. Sounds like a strange thing to do, but the East Berlin lights were so popular that the government re-instated them, after originally ripping most of them out. See for yourself – I think they’re cute:






Over and out.

Journey to the green, green isle...

Last Friday, whilst taking a break from labwork, I realised that I had no plans for the weekend. In order to make the most of my time here, I checked out the buses to Prague, but sadly those had to be booked three days in advance, so I decided to go to Dublin instead. “Why Dublin?”, I hear you ask. Well, my decision was based on four key points: 1.) I’ve always wanted to go to Ireland, 2.) The flights were cheap (thanks again, Ryanair), 3.) Irish accents amuse me, and 4.) I really like Westlife. So I booked everything on Friday at midday, and on Saturday morning I flew out, quite chuffed with my spontaneity.

I expected the worst when it came to the weather, especially as it’s been raining in Mainz for weeks, and I know London’s been the same. Surprisingly though, I was greeted with sunshine and temps so hot I couldn’t wait to change from jeans to shorts! Here’s a sunny view of the Ha’penny Bridge:



As I walked to my hostel, which was as central as you could get, really, I viewed Dublin’s latest attraction, which is quite ingeniously called “The Spire”



Not quite sure what it was for, but it seems every city worth its salt has to have some kind of tall, pointless monument (Stefan’s Tower, anyone?). Plus it was nice and shiny, which is always a winner for me.

I went to the hostel and chatted briefly to a German girl (yes, the first person I met in Ireland was German), then headed to the tourist info centre and grabbed a few brochures. I then set about viewing tourist attractions in the area, but I soon became frustrated with the crowds, tired of dodging the millions of buses and avoiding the people shaking their money cups at me…



…so I jumped on one such bus and went on a bit of a journey up the coast. Half an hour later, I reached Clontarf.



This place kind of reminded me of St Kilda and also a bit of Glenelg. It definitely had an Irish feel though, and I convinced myself the green stuff next to the water was peat, for that extra authenticity.



The primary reason for me going to Clontarf was to see St Anne’s Park and Rose Garden, which I’d jotted down as something to see, during my extensive 20mins of Dublin research on Friday night. Here’s the entrance to the park – admire the greenness!



There were also a few castles around, just to remind me how old the civilisation is in that country:



As I was wandering around, taking in the beauty, I heard a rustle from the forest floor to my left. Ever-vigilant when it comes to a possible snake attack, I did what every well-trained Aussie does when they hear a rustle in the bushes and jumped back a few metres. Then my brain kicked in and I remembered the whole St Patrick, no-snake story, and I realised my attacker was actually a cuuuuute little squirrel.



Calming down again, I continued on, determined to find the aforementioned rose garden. When I did eventually find it, in the middle of the vast parklands, I was not disappointed. This place was suitably large and impressive, and with the heady scent of roses filling my nostrils, I wandered around happily, looking at all the funny rose names. These included “Sexy Rexy”, “High Sheriff”, “Cathedral Splendour” and “Royal Philharmonic”.



I sat down next to a particularly pretty rose-bed for awhile (yes, I stopped to smell the roses… ba-boom-ching) – this variety was called Anna Livia.



Okay, I just wasted 20 mins trying to work out photoshop in German, so I could put these photos all together in a mosaic, but it was too damn hard, so if you want to see photos of roses, click on the numbers. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

I spent awhile in the park, planning my touristy Sunday, then I went back to the hostel, determined to find some friendly backpackers to hit the town with. What I found instead was a Kiwi who had been living at the hostel for three months because she couldn’t be bothered finding an apartment, a Spanish girl who seemed kind of bored with me whilst eyeing off the Spanish guys in the corner, and the most extreme Bad American Stereotype I’ve ever met. So, my plans of Irish Craic slowly fading away, I walked up the road to find wine. I then decided it would be pathetic to drink wine on my own, so bought a packet of biscuits instead, and headed back to the hostel. As I passed one of the dingy pubs nearby, I caught sight of the German girl (Nadine) who I’d met earlier, sitting at the bar chatting to the bartender. Seconds later, she invited me out to meet a Canadian couple she’d been drinking with the night before, so I put down my biscuits, grabbed my handbag and we left for the Temple Bar:



This bar was in a very trendy part of town (supposedly), but to me it looked like the Dublin equivalent of Fortitude Valley. We couldn’t find the Canadian couple, but we did notice a whole bunch of men wearing swagman hats:



Curious, I asked them if they were Aussies, but no, they were Poms. They were in Ireland celebrating the upcoming nuptials of Jamie, dressed here as a leprechaun, but who had the previous night been dressed as Captain America, apparently:



It soon came to light that Jamie had lived in Redcliffe for awhile (which he claimed was in Brisbane, but I argued otherwise), and was quite fond of our country, hence the hats. The guys were pretty amusing, so we stayed around to watch Jamie try to complete the dares set by his mates. We also became acquainted with a blow-up kiwi, who was standing in for another Pom who couldn’t make it because he was in NZ (kiwi seen below kissing “Junior”).



As the night wore on, I found I was slowly becoming accustomed to drinking beer, and the boys became quite jovial…



…but then they turned the lights on and kicked us out. Pubs in Ireland shut at 2:30am – BOOO!! Oh well, twas a good night anyway.

After we got back to the hostel, I began to fully comprehend something I had suspected during check-in – the hostel was a s**thole. An overpriced s**thole at that (25 Euros). I had 14 people in my mixed dorm which had ridiculously lumpy mattresses (even for a hostel) and in place of a functioning light, the room had an EXIT sign that glowed all night. At least I was far away from it. The staff didn’t give out keys, instead escorting people to their rooms every time they wanted to get in (including after going to the bathroom, which was on another floor). Which brings me to the most annoying bit – the bathroom. There were only three showers, with see-through doors (for ultimate privacy), and to make them produce water, you had to press a button every 10 sec. In addition to this, there were no rubbish bins or toilet paper, so the place was pretty gross. At least I’d had a few pints of Carlsberg, so I could tolerate it for the few hours I had left.

Sunday morning, feeling pretty off after having only 5 hours of interrupted sleep, I checked out of the craphole and walked up the street to my second hostel, which was only 12 Euros per night, in a 10-person all-girls dorm, with in-room bathroom and breakfast included.

My touristy sights for the day included Dublinia, a very interactive museum that re-created medieval and viking-period Dublin. I learned that Vikings didn’t actually have horned helmets, that the cure for earache used to be stuffing a knob of garlic in your ear, and I even learned who the real “Strongbow” was!



Here’s a photo of Dublinia (left) and Christ Church Cathedral (right), from which some fantastic choral music was resonating.



I then did a tour of Dublin castle,



which had the typical grand ballrooms and underground passageways, and finally I had a look inside the Chester Beatty Library, which housed a massive collection of Christian, Islamic and oriental religion books and scrolls. I was impressed by the age of the stuff (some was dated at 50AD-ish), but by then my feet hurt so much that I couldn’t be bothered reading much. When I did read a couple of signs, it became apparent that some kind of background knowledge of the Bible would have made the whole thing a lot more exciting.

Not to be beaten by my aching feet, I decided to squeeze in one last attraction before dark. That attraction was Phoenix Park, which was a lot further away from town than I had anticipated. 3km after leaving central Dublin, I found the park and sat down and ate my nutritious raw 2-minute noodle dinner, then walked around trying to find the war memorial I had read about. Once I found it, I wondered how I ever could have missed it, because this thing was huuuuuuuuuuge! See the man in the blue shirt to the right of the memorial, for size reference.



I stood at the base of the monument for awhile, gawking, then made the painful 3km journey home. My feet had actually started to go numb by the time I got back into town. By then it was 9pm, and time for me to go to bed, seeing as I had to be up at 4:30am to get my flight. As I lay down and tried to block out the chatter of my roommates, I thought about how the room was still five-star, compared to my previous hostel. Zzzzz…