Berlin was a pretty amazing place when I was there. For a small town boy the whirling diversity was enough to arouse me from the stupendous hangover I’d picked up during a three day sojourn to the NAAFI bar at RAF Gutersloh (sp?).
The majestic avenues and parks of what was West Berlin, leading down to the Reichstag are a stark contrast to the drab former East Berlin, but equally differ from the centre of the west side with its glitzy bars, international shopping and full-on nightlife. I didn’t have much time here, but would go back for another taste as there was so much to see.
The museum at the old Gestapo HQ is a sombre and chilling reminder of the not too distant past, the spire of the old church amongst the shopping arcades a testament to the devastating bombing endured.
The stunning ladies of the night line the main streets as if waiting for a Vogue shoot, mingling with the multitudes out in the town at night. German efficiency and the legacy of occupation shine through as everyone speaks embarrassingly near-perfect English. All helpful, though their faces betray a tolerant amusement at obvious British ineptitude at coping with being European. A merry-go-round of a place not to be missed if you’re doing a grand tour.
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