Reviewing Bill’s journal entries, there were two possible destinations other than Berlin I debated exploring: Potsdam or Szczecin. Szczecin is in Poland today but was in Germany territory before the war, then called Stettin. While I found the prospect of exploring another country exciting, even if I’d have to plan my day to the hour to reach there and back, I ultimately decided on Potsdam.
Bill barely writes about Stettin except that it’s one of the ports they stopped in on the on their way to the Berlin Olympics, the Norwegian freighter, the Topdalsfjord, — roughly translates to “Top valley fjord” – they used for most of the initial portion of their summer vacation.
Another benefit of Potsdam is that it would take me to a recommendation by 2nd cousin, who visited Berlin at least once and travels extensively. She recommended Teufelsberg which I’ll detail later.
Potsdam out of the three German cities I explored is the most preservationist of the antiquity, particularly the former kingdom of Prussia. In particular, Sanssouci, the palace of Frederick the Great, perhaps Germany’s – yes, I know it was technically Prussia to those history buffs – most coveted leader, even though it was before Germany was Germany, is very reminiscent of all the other palace-turned museums my parents and I had traveled to on this trip. One thing I can’t help but notice is that European monarchs, like the founding fathers if one’s been to DC, apparently fetishized Ancient Rome and Greece with, again, the grandiose fountains, Corinthian columns, statues of the Greek Pantheon, and gardens with labyrinthian architecture.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I left the Berlin hostel around 9 am for Potsdam. According to Bill’s logs, he and Sam left Berlin out west for Potsdam, like me, for a day trip.
Exiting the Potsdam train station, I led myself towards the palace but I was delayed by the nearby St. Nicholas’s Cathedral and the structures nearby. The whole city seems like a historic town that surprisingly seems undisturbed by the destruction of World War II, but as I researched later, it suffered the fate of many major German cities, since it was a major war administration hub. Of course, this is the location of the famous Potsdam conference, but I did not add Cecilienhof Palace, where it was held, to my itinerary.
St. Nicholas was a unique experience, as while I have been inside historic cathedrals in Sweden and Denmark, this one appeared to be active and welcoming to the public, and I can see why.
Arriving at Sanssouci, the style of the palace, though just as large in scale, is unlike the early to mid-Baroque of Fredericksborg, as it is of Rococo-style from its architect Georg Wenzeslaus von Knobelsdorff, a French architectural style that represents the later Baroque movement. The palace was intended to invoke an escape from the pomp and flamboyance of the Prussian royal court; a place where Frederick the Great could relax in nature, or as Bill put it in his notes, “…where Frederick the Great carried out his ideas of what Versailles should have been.”
The nature-themed ascetic of this palace and the surrounding area in this part of Germany is something to consider. When you take the train from Berlin to the outlying metropolitan areas you find several places in the woodlands, reminding me of venturing into the more woodland areas of Washington and Idaho. No doubt some of the homes probably date back to the Holy Roman Empire and invoke imagery from Brothers Grimm fairy tales.
The palace was closed the day I arrived in Potsdam, so I did not see the more distinct Rococo style until after the fact. But the outside is a nice retreat from city life. I particularly enjoyed seeing this windmill shown here, not to mention an actor whom I’m assuming is playing Frederick himself.
Sites like this at Sanssouci have their parallels in the United States when you think about it. I can recall many years ago while on a family trip to Washington DC of visiting Mount Vernon in Virginia. Obviously, a plantation is not the same as a palace, but nevertheless the prescience of revisiting the state of a national icon instrumental in the identity and founding of the nation is paramount in both locations, plus its slight leaning toward the escape from public and political life, as I’m sure both Frederick and George Washington relished in evading bureaucrats and war councils at these estates.
The rest of the time in Potsdam was spent shopping on the Brandenburger Str near a small version of Brandenburg Gate. Yes, there’s two in the greater Berlin Metropolitan era one could say.
My parents collect windup toys, and after failing to find any in Copenhagen, I decided to try my luck at one of these local mom-and-pop stores and also to get some lunch. I compromised by finding not a windup toy but something akin to them. No, I can’t say what, since it’ll be a Christmas present, and my parents read this blog.
I eventually made my way in the latter afternoon to Teufelsberg. Unlike any of my other travels, except maybe the Holmenkollbakken ski jump, this required a mile or two of hiking through the Grunewald forest which I decided to record on my Strava app.
Even more than Checkpoint Charlie, did this abandoned American listening post where my nationality felt like a sore thumb at this museum in a sobering way. You enter this museum as though you’re going to a wreckage of an abandoned factory or refinery, except the graffiti is like Ray Bradbury’s The Illustrated Man only the tattoos are on a building instead of a human. I exaggerate of course, but nonetheless the mural art seems professional and tries to tell abstract stories with no determinable ideology or message to decipher.
I followed a group of German teenagers, possibly as part of a field trip, into the non-museum portion of the interior of Teufelsberg, which was a hollowed-out concrete husk of where power generators, wiring, early computers and whatnot once resided. There was also an abandoned American Humvee or some military car next to the structure and the trailhead or some other military car for tourists to take photos.
I debated sharing photos of the fantastic graffiti murals, but after noting the “no photographs” from the East Berlin converted train production depot, I decided to show the exterior only. To describe the aesthetic is admittedly difficult, but if one has ever been to a popular music venue, particularly those catered to punk rock and/or hip-hop where concert poster memorabilia with abstract and gonzo art design blown up in scale, then perhaps one can picture the upper stories of this listening post, where one can also access the rooftop.
Like with Holmenkollbakken, I was given a great view of Berlin from this vantage.
Returning to the hostel, I decided, now that the marathon was over, to engage in a little planned nightlife at the hostel, if you want to call it that. Beforehand, I went to a hostel- recommended takeout for Doner kabob, the name of which escapes me. When I asked for recommendations for Doner, the staff didn’t hesitate to recommend a specific place. When I ordered, I ran into the Romanian couple I had met the night previous and had run the marathon. After talking about Romania over Doner, I can forsee a possible next destination, particularly the western mountains.
I admit it is awkward when I’ve been absent from nightlife for a while, I don’t drink alcohol, and my dancing skills are almost as bad as my Deutch, but I nevertheless followed a group headed to a lounge bar, the name which escapes. I left a little earlier than the group because I wanted to try to have a good final run in this grand city, before I left for the US, though I somewhat regret I did depart, as I’m sure I could have had a few other adventures.
The next morning, I returned to the Brandenburg gate and the Reichstag. I did not get a tour of the Reichstag, as I discovered those needed a tour, so I suppose that’ll have to wait for another journey, along with the Olympic Stadium, which must have slipped my eye reviewing the journals. However, I did something that I had been wanting to do since I arrived in Berlin, which was to run around the Tiergarten park. I stopped to snap photos of course, particularly of Victory Column, but it was nice not to stop so frequently to get my bearings. I also picked, I believe, a good time in the early morning to get that dawn photography glow.
After I checked out of the hostel, I decided to try the Samurai Museum as the last tourist attraction on my journey. It sounds unorthodox for a Germany vacation, but I’m glad I attended, as this is one of the most interactive museums I’ve encountered for a while, akin to the Pop Culture museum in Seattle. Not only were there showcases of armor, swords, and other artifacts, but holograms of Noh Theater, atmospheric lighting and other effects that showcased the Shogunate’s army manakins, and a tempting AI photography center to make me look like a samurai. For whatever reason, I found my AI-portrait unconvincing, so I decided not to pay to upload it to my phone, but the prospect was entertaining, nonetheless.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Europe was a grand trip. Stockholm was my probably my personal favorite city, though Berlin’s cosmopolitan splendor is what I’d recommend for most bucket lists. Norway is probably the place I’d desire to retire to the most, but I’m not holding my breath.
As much as it may surprise some readers, there wasn’t much that left me in awe, however or defied my expectations. Call it an over-educated individual’s burden, but I knew I wasn’t going to experience anything too exotic in the sense of a cultural shock, despite the language and different political organizations of these denizens. Northern Europe and America essentially share most of the same cultural values: universal, individual rights, appreciation of welfare systems – though Europeans are obviously used to a different kind – and at least a consciousness of environmentalism. Even with the news or some of the propaganda populist politicians in my or the countries I visited saying otherwise, most of the citizens of each country or others outside of them that attended the hostel and whatnot, seemed to live similar lives as I did.
Germany, I suppose, could be the exception of defying my expectations at least from an aesthetic level. I didn’t expect so much graffiti or such a mixture of used and new infrastructure, as if the city had been recycled over and over, but it makes total sense when you consider the history; the effects of wars, hot and cold, which can result in such an undefined, uncanny ascetic.
I can’t help but compare this experience with the only other time I visited a foreign country, aside from Canada, not with my parents and not for vacation per se, which was India in 2008. That was an experience which my expectations had to be thrown out the window to adapt. In Northern Europe, however, my expectations that this trip would not be exotic or more like a vacation within North America were valid.
If anything, I thought deeply about my own flawed American culture and whether it can live up to the prosperity that these Northern countries enjoy within the European Union. Honestly, I have my doubts. America is large and its peoples, if they have the means, have historically chosen to flee from the demographics they find alien, particularly waves of immigrants coming to cities. In my opinion, this is one of the key reasons besides slavery of why income disparities are stark in contrast to Western Europe. The countries I visited, particularly the Scandinavian, have populations of a Midwest US state, and democracy I argue is easier to organize since people are forced to work with each other rather than just move out west.
Even with all that said, I thoroughly appreciated the mix of old and new that Europe has to offer; the cuisine, the architecture, the history, and first and foremost the people.
If you’ve been following up to this point, I thank you for following my recounting. I still have work to do to produce the summary of Bill’s journals. I am rather busy with my work schedule after returning to my job and life in the US, and I can’t predict when I’ll return to this project.
Tak!
