Muscular, tanned men wearing only the tiniest of tiny Speedo swimsuits gyrate on an open-top double-decker bus, hurling packets of personal lubricant and flyers advertising an S&M party into the crowd. A pack of Thai transvestites with flowing blond hair and neon outfits sashay behind them, waving and smiling demurely like contestants in a beauty pageant.
A grey-haired woman in her sixties beside me is blushing madly, her husband snapping photos, as a glitter-covered drag queen in stilettos pulls open the woman’s collar and stuffs condoms into her cleavage. A Muslim family, the father in traditional clothing and the mother in a full headscarf, steer their children’s prams through the crowd, seemingly unperturbed that their route home has been blocked by 550,000 intoxicated people celebrating their gay pride.
Welcome to Berlin, a city where anything goes.
This recent scene at Berlin’s annual Christopher Street Day parade (known elsewhere in the world as Gay Pride Day) is just one example of the multiplicity of Germany’s capital city. One of the defining characteristics of the new Berlin is its constantly evolving mix of youth and age, German and immigrant, modern and historical, refined and ragtag, making it a place where all types of people can jump in and find something that suits them.
After having it rough for most of the 20th century, this is Berlin’s time. It was recently dubbed “the most cultured city in Europe” by New York Times Culture Editor Sam Sifton, who gushed, “You could go to art galleries in Berlin for a solid week and find yourself not halfway through a master list.” It’s also without a doubt the most affordable Western European capital, and shrugs off its high unemployment and dire financial straits to maintain a relaxed, leisurely air.
The magic mix of low prices, cheap rents, aimless youth, world-famous party and art scenes, and an anything-goes, laissez-faire attitude has given Berlin a reputation that attracts growing numbers of tourists. The number of overnight visits from abroad has been climbing strongly in recent years, more than doubling between 2003 and 2008, according to the Berlin Tourism Marketing office.
It’s often compared these days to the New York of the ‘80s or the Prague of the early 90s, those heady post-Velvet Revolution days when westerners headed east in search of cheap beer, beautiful women, and a bohemian lifestyle. Like the Prague of those days, Berlin is also attracting a swelling population of expats, particularly those under 35 who are chasing dreams of creative success or a utopian lifestyle of nonstop partying and lazy leisure.
But the similarity ends there. Separated by a scant four hours of travel time by bus, train or car, Prague and Berlin may not be far from each other on the map, but Berlin feels worlds apart.
Still, the close proximity means a short trip from Prague to Berlin, or even a weekend excursion, is easily manageable. Several bus companies drive this route, and the Deutsche Bahn rail service gives discounts on advance bookings. Another cheaper and potentially more interesting option is ridesharing, a mode of travel popular among thrifty Germans. Drivers and passengers connect via websites such as www.mitfahrgelegenheit.de, by means of classified ads or through travel agencies. Passengers pay approximately 5 euros per 100 kilometres driven, meaning a one-way journey from Prague to Berlin typically costs between EUR 18 and EUR 25.
With a population of 3.4 million Berlin is the second most populous city in the European Union after London. It’s easy to get overwhelmed by Berlin’s sprawling size. Each district, or Bezirk, has its own specific history, look and energy, from the wide boulevards and bourgeois sensibilities of Charlottenburg and Schöneberg in the former west to the opera houses and posh galleries of Mitte to the yuppie baby strollers blocking the sidewalks in Prenzlauer Berg to the shisha cafés and shawarma joints of Neukölln to the anarcho-punk squat houses and hipster bars of Kreuzberg. Treat each district like a small town within a larger city in order to get the most out of your visit.
A day might start with brunch on a patio and a stroll along the former Berlin Wall and a visit to the ongoing open-air exhibition at Alexanderplatz commemorating 2009’s 20-year anniversary of the fall of that barrier. Later, a visit to one of Berlin’s world-class museums, window-shopping, flea market browsing, lunch at an organic farmers’ market, an opera or theatre performance, a gallery opening, an experimental noise concert or a drag queen cabaret show, and then dancing until the following afternoon to Berlin’s characteristic minimal techno sounds at one of the open-air clubs along the Spree River.
Try doing as the locals do, and get around by bike. With more than 600 kilometres of cycling paths, Berlin is easily one of the most bike-friendly metropolises in Europe, and travelling on two wheels lets you see the city’s changing street scenes up close. Many hostels and hotels arrange bike rentals, and several companies now offer guided tours on bike. If cycling sounds like too much work, there’s always the efficient public transit system, which includes busses, trams, and the U-bahn and S-bahn commuter trains.
The city by night
“Are you from Berlin? I’m from Berlin. Where are you from? Canada? Where’s that? I’m from Berlin. Isn’t Berlin a great city? Berlin’s such a great city. Don’t you just love Berlin? I’m from Berlin.” The woman next to me wants to talk. It’s not so much a conversation as a slurred one-sided drunken ramble on her part. She can hardly hold her head up, but she can’t hold back her enthusiasm for her home city.
Inside the shoebox-sized Minibar (Graefestraße 77, Kreuzberg), it feels a little like you’re drinking in a hip, well-decorated storage closet. There are even turntables squeezed into one corner. But the close quarters make the crowd convivial, and it doesn’t take long for the inevitable “So, where are you from?” question to surface. As long as you don’t mind drinking with some stranger’s breath on your neck, or elbow in your ear, it’s a great place to strike up conversation with a mixed bag of patrons. Sitting on my other side is a drunk man from Luxembourg, wanting to know if I can speak French.
Sometime well after 3am, a pint-sized grandmother with an enormous shelf of a bosom and glasses hanging from a chain around her neck turns up. She’s selling homemade German snacks to hungry drunks: On her tray are plates of potato salad, pale, floppy Wurst with mustard, sour pickles, and open-faced sandwiches of raw minced meat. Clearly a regular, she winks at the bartender, meanders along the bar, makes small talk, and helps herself to people’s drinks before heading back out onto a street that also houses a Chinese restaurant, a Syrian falafel shop and a Turkish backgammon club.
I shouldn’t be surprised by such a scene. Berlin’s multiplicity is evident everywhere. That’s the beauty of this city: its melding of its myriad components and an unending ability to take you by surprise.
Keep your eyes open and you’ll find Berlin to be full of surprises, in places like Clärchens Ballhaus (Auguststraße 24, Mitte), a ballroom dating back to the 1910s. Located smack in the middle of one of the city’s trendiest, snootiest areas, it’s part restaurant, part dancehall, and a quintessential piece of contemporary quirky Berlin. Various nights of the week are dedicated to different dance styles – Tango on Tuesdays, Swing on Wednesdays, ChaCha on Thursdays, and so on – and various dance classes are also on offer. Couples of all kinds, from hipsters to geriatrics, dance the night away in the fading old ballroom.
Or, hidden away inside a palace off of Unter den Linden in Mitte, the Tajikistan Tearoom (Am Festungsgraben 1, Mitte). The authentic interior, including carpets, wooden pillars, and cushions on the floor, was originally part of a 1970s trade show exhibit owned by the USSR that was later gifted to then-East Germany. Relax over a samovar of tea before heading out into the night and diving back into Berlin’s mad mix.
