Berlin does not have the half-timbered houses iconic of Germany. It is not known for beer or beer festivals, and the local cuisine is a far cry from famous. But it is, of course, known for a dark and gritty past and even if you try to forget it, the city will remind you of it again and again.
Forget everything you’ve experienced or know about Germany. Berlin is a completely different world. That was one of the many things I learned during my three days of memorials and meals in Berlin. Not only did I walk away with a few lessons, I realized a few things I wish I’d known before going. So here is what to know before going to Berlin.
3 Days of Memorials & Meals + What to Know Before Going to Berlin
A few months before going to Berlin when I was working in Frankfurt I told a colleague I’d be going to Berlin soon. “Berlin has a lot of history,” he said. “It’s not good history, but it’s history.” That stuck with me throughout my trip. I love history… but the history in Germany’s capital is not particularly pretty. And perhaps that’s all the more reason why it should be remembered.
Berlin is completely different than the rest of Germany.
Berlin is a world away from Munich and Frankfurt — both physically and culturally. Having been to both German cities just months before, Berlin was a striking contrast. Gone were the half-timbered houses iconic to the country, replaced with bland buildings with no ornamentation. In fact, there were hardly any old, elaborate buildings typical of Germany.
Berlin was badly destroyed in World War II. But unlike Frankfurt, who rebuilt many structures to look identical to their pre-war selves, Berlin looks nothing like it did before the war. The architecture is saturated with plain concrete buildings that were cheap and easy to construct after the war. Especially in East Berlin, the communist aesthetic is hard to miss. Slowly but surely new buildings are being constructed with a modern tone and construction is everywhere; we were never far from a construction crane.
Even the train system, which is known in Germany for its efficiency, is different. Trains and trams will get you everywhere you need to go in Berlin, but the system is made up of several different networks so it takes longer than it should. Most of the trains go into the city center before branching back out, so it felt time consuming (although still more convenient than a car).
Berlin’s food scene is different, too.
I believe food is a good indicator of a city’s culture and, in turn, its past. And Berlin is no different. The food scene did not escape the city’s dramatic past. It, too, saw violent ups and downs in the last century that can still be felt today.
In the 1920s Berlin was a thriving cultural city full of international tourists and transplants. But that stopped once the war broke out. In the postwar era, food was scarce and rations were still in force. Berliners ate to survive, not to enjoy elaborate, creative meals. One of Berlin’s most famous dishes is a byproduct of this: Currywurst.
Currywurst was created in 1949 by a woman who obtained ketchup and curry powder from British soldiers and dumped it on sausage. It became an instant hit. Likewise, the döner kebab, another modern Berlin must-have, was created in 1969 by a Turkish immigrant who made the meat-filled wrap a popular staple by selling it in train stations.
But new restaurants are putting Berlin on the culinary map.
But, like the rest of the city, Berlin’s food scene is catching up with the world. It’s full of highly-rated restaurants making a dent in the global food scene, like Tim Raue (his Chef’s Table episode on Netflix is worth a watch). Or Daniel Achilles of Reinstoff, where we had a mind-blowing lunch. (Read about Reinstoff here.) These high end hot spots are in addition to traditional German food, which can still be found throughout Berlin.
We also had a great tasting menu dinner at Pauly Saal. The Michelin-rated restaurant is located in a historic building that was once a Jewish girls’ school. It closed in 1942 when most of the students were sent to the death camps so it was converted to a military hospital during the war. Yikes!
History is everywhere in Berlin, even when you can’t see it.
I felt like everything in Berlin had an asterisk explaining a gritty historical subplot. The Reichstag building that houses the German Parliament is famously where Nazis and Soviets fought hand-to-hand during the Battle of Berlin in WWII. It wasn’t repaired and reconstructed until the reunification of Berlin in 1990. Today bullet holes and Soviet graffiti still exist in the hallways; a time capsule reminder of Berlin’s past.
One of my favorite parts of Berlin was visiting the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church. Built in 1890, the once-beautiful church was a landmark in the center of a bustling square surrounded by theaters and cafes. (Here’s the original.) Like most of Berlin, it was nearly destroyed by WWII bombs. But instead of repairing it, the church was left half-bombed as a memorial to World War II. Bullet holes dot the walls, windows remain blasted out, and huge cracks scar the mosaics inside. It’s a glimpse of what the city looked like after the war.
In Berlin, the past peeks through at every corner, even when it wasn’t as obvious. A remnant of the Wall over there. A revitalized train station over there. And that block-sized area of gravel? Where the SS Headquarters once was, now an outdoor museum to the Nazi rise to power. (Called the Topography of Terror, it’s worth a visit.) Even the Holocaust Memorial is steps away from Hitler’s bunker, parts of which are still buried underground.
Berlin: Where Past & Present Collide
It’s not that we wanted Berlin to hide its past. We came here precisely for it. But it was suddenly very real. The Holocaust Memorial was at the top of our to do list. But once we were at the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, reading personal stories of those who died, it became more than a plot point in history. It was the somber end of very real lives.
When we first saw the Berlin Wall I found it underwhelming. Regrettably my first thought was “it’s just a concrete wall.” But I immediately redacted that. It was so much more than just a wall to those that lived in Berlin. Even today, it’s a scar that tears through the city and still has a lasting effect on the city, the people, and the culture of Berlin.
One of the happier examples of that is the Ampfelman. The fedora-wearing man dons the street lights as walk/don’t walk signals. What was once found only in East Berlin was so well-loved he’s made his way to street posts throughout the city and is now an icon of Berlin. Ampfelman souvenir shops are everywhere, with the character plastered all over every imaginable item.
•••
When I got home someone asked if I’d go back to Berlin. I would, but not for 10 or 15 years. Berlin is in its adolescent stage and still regrouping after everything it experienced in the 20th Century. Neighborhoods are being gentrified, buildings still being revived or constructed. It’s still coming into its own, into what will be a new Berlin. And I can’t wait to see it.
Related: a mind-blowing meal at Reinstoff, the contrast of medieval and modern in Frankfurt and hunting down beers in Munich.
