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The requisite tour of Berlin used to be quite simple: a pilgrimage to the wall or its remnants, followed by a mug of Berliner Weisse beer among faux intellectuals at the Cafe Einstein or Florian (where, as the saying goes, "everybody dresses in black, thinks red and votes Green"). Then, in the evening, a stirring performance of Mozart or Mahler by the Berlin Philharmonic (for my money, still the world's greatest orchestra), topped off with a passably decent dinner at an Italian restaurant or-for the more foolhardy-an indigestible plate of pig knuckle or "Saumagen" (pig's intestine stuffed with blood and lard) at a Prussian dive like Heckischer Deele. But these days, Berlin is bursting with ambitions of becoming the crossroads of Europe. Regular visitors are amazed by the changing character and landscape of this sprawling metropolis. Long regarded as a cultural haven-thanks to hefty federal subsidies-Berlin has lost much of its previous funding because of budget cuts. But it is still exploding with all sorts of new experiences: at art galleries and museums, concert halls and theaters, and at hip new cafes and nightclubs in such incongruous sites as old bakeries, bank vaults and Bertolt Brecht's studio. To the chagrin of western cities like Cologne and Dusseldorf, the renascent capital is again attracting the best and brightest of young Germans who want their share of its special buzz. Berlin's pretensions as a global hot spot still fall short in some areas (incredibly, there are no nonstop flights to or from North America), but I believe no other city on the Continent combines its zestful excitement about the future with haunting landmarks from the past. History literally lurks behind every corner. And while Berlin's expanse may intimidate even the most intrepid walker-it encompasses five times the territory of Paris-I find that there is no better way to comprehend the city's unique symbiosis of history and modern upheaval than to explore the "neue Mitte" (new center) on foot. The starting point for any tour begins with the Reichstag, the restored seat of Germany's Parliament that embodies better than anything else Berlin's tragic past and renewed faith in the future. The obscene graffiti Soviet soldiers scrawled when they captured the city in 1945 is still visible on the walls. While preserving such links with the past, Foster capped the building with a modern glass dome that symbolizes the transparency of Germany's postwar democracy. Visitors can gaze at legislators below as they ascend the dome's spiral walkway. Best of all, there is a pleasant restaurant with a vast terrace that provides a superb panorama of the new Berlin-just the place to absorb the capital's contours over a foamy cappuccino and warm croissant. The Reichstag stop helps visitors get their bearings and understand the enormous scope of change in this once-divided city-until 1989, the former parliament abutted the wall and the same view from the terrace was a gloomy pastiche of communist-era repression. From there, you can take a detour along the June 17th Boulevard to browse through a flea market where you can still find old Soviet army uniforms and medals left by departing soldiers. Or you can traverse the Brandenburg Gate-that towering monument of German unity-and stroll past the vacant site of the future U.S. Embassy, whose construction has been delayed by bickering over security considerations. Across the street, you can peek at the remains of Hitler's bunker-which are kept unmarked because of fears about making it a neo-Nazi shrine-and then examine plans for the Holocaust memorial that will soon be erected on a five-acre corner site. Farther along the tracks of the former wall, you'll reach the Martin Gropius Bau, an art museum whose bullet-pocked exterior testifies to its former wartime role as Gestapo headquarters. In back of the museum, the Gestapo's chilling torture chambers can be visited at a site called "Topography of Terror." At Potsdamer Platz and Checkpoint Charlie, which served as the key crossing point between the Soviet and American zones during the postwar occupation era, any relics of history have been obliterated by towering office buildings and shopping complexes. It was a conscious if controversial decision by city authorities that demonstrates the triumph of Berlin's hopes for a peaceful and prosperous future over the horrors of its wartime devastation. Berlin's attractions, however, extend far beyond history. The city has long been one of the world's greatest meccas for music: There are three top-quality opera houses as well as the renowned Philharmonic, whose chief conductor, Claudio Abbado, will soon pass the baton to Simon Rattle. And the abundance of interesting museums, from the extraordinary antiquities at the Pergamon to the stunning modern art shows at the Neue National and Hamburger Bahnhof galleries, attest to Berlin's abiding devotion to the entire spectrum of culture-from the classic to the avant-garde. By tradition, Berliners have never been great gourmets. Until recently, most stuck to a typical Prussian diet built largely around beer, bread, potatoes and pig meat. In fact, the region's infertile soil and meager supplies of food are often cited as prime reasons for the territorial expansion of Prussians, who yearned to reach out for the more bountiful harvests and tastier treats of their neighbors. Nowadays, an influx of foreigners is bringing the world's best cuisines to Berlin, which the locals have embraced with relish. The city has evolved into a multicultural culinary paradise, with a plethora of Turkish, Indian, Thai and French restaurants. France's Michelin guide has even crowned the restaurant Vau as one of Europe's finest-complete with a wine list that would make the best cellars in Paris envious. In addition, there are more than 2,000 Italian restaurants in Berlin-a legacy from the days when the divided city served as a haven to launder Mafia drug money through funding mom-and-pop pizzerias. While these places do not rival the best temples of cuisine in Rome or Milan, there are some outstanding exceptions, such as Ponte Vecchio near the Deutsche Oper and Langhans on the central Gendarmenmarkt Square-where the chef proudly displays his award for concocting "the world's greatest risotto." Like the rest of the nation, Berlin is still struggling to break down "the wall in people's minds" that divides western Germans from their eastern cousins. It will probably take at least a generation before Germans on both sides of the defunct Iron Curtain feel truly comfortable with each other as fellow compatriots. Yet at this point in time, Berliners have already accomplished much for which they can feel proud. The resurrection of their city as one of the world's premier capitals reflects more than a complicated marriage between East and West-it is also a fascinating melange of the past with the future.
© 2000 The Washington Post Company |
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