Sunnyside Studio

In March 2002, during a long rail trip across Europe, we found ourselves with one day to spend in Berlin, a city we had never visited before. It is impossible to do justice to such a place in such a short time and we decided to limit ourselves to visiting places we had heard of before our visit.

The Reichstag is a massive and impressive building, though perhaps a little ponderous and heavy. At this time it was in the centre of a complex of redevelopment and surrounded by cranes and building sites.

A brisk northerly wind, and frequent showers of sleet, limited the time we were prepared to admire it and so we cross the Unter den Linden and walk through the Tiergarten, back towards the Zoo Station. The noise of the city is muffled by the tall stands of mature trees and apart from a few joggers and dog walkers we meet no one. In the years after the First World War, while employed by the Prussian Academy of Sciences, Einstein walked along these very paths and in the quiet gloom of the wood, it is easy to imagine a solitary figure striding past us, head down, lost in deep thoughts and muttering himself, something about God playing dice. It is a pleasant walk. We see heron and buzzards and numerous ducks on the various streams and ponds. The trees are showing the very first signs of spring, a yellow green fuzz and from the thick carpet of leaves, daffodils and other flowers are pushing through. We decide that on a day like today we prefer the Tiergarten to the Reichstag.

We travel to Friedrichstrasse Station and walk along Unter den Linden. It is a cold gray day with flurries of sleet. The Cafe Einstein catches our eye. In some book about the great man I had read that, during his period in Berlin, he had enjoyed strolling in the Tiergarten and drinking hot chocolate in a caf� on the Unter den Linden. Perhaps this is the one! It is also a very cold day and a hot chocolate seems an excellent idea. It is expensive but very good, a theme that can be applied to much of Berlin. The cafe has a formal, old fashioned atmosphere. The tables are marble topped, the waiters wear black suits and the hot chocolate comes rich and hot with a large mound of whipped cream.

Outside again, ahead of us, we can see the Brandenburg Gate. At least that what we thought we were looking at. On closer examination we realise that the monument is covered by an enormous canvas screen on which its image has been painted.

Close to the Reichstag, we stop to examine the Russian War Memorial, a massive structure with columns and steps, set in an area of parkland and adorned with field guns, tanks and a huge statue of a Russian soldier. The slate grey skies and sleety rain do nothing to reduce its cold, impersonal character. Though it does have a grim, stark sort of grandeur, nothing can do justice to the enormous losses it was built to represent. It is a sad and empty place.

This reminded me of magazine and film images from Berlin at the end of the war; its surroundings a testament to man's ability to recover and rebuild. This nineteenth century church was destroyed by allied bombing in 1943. The surviving tower, with strong echos of Coventry Cathedral, was incorporated into a modern church building in the 1960s.

Towards the end of our Berlin day we buy a very late lunch, which consists of an "American Wrap" bought from a sandwich stall, which we eat rather self-consciously on the U/Bahn.

Continuing our policy of visiting Berlin sites most known to us, our lunch is taken on the way to Check Point Charlie, both of which live down to our expectations.

The film of the book "The spy who came in from the cold" has Richard Burton attempting to escape through a drab urban landscape to the safety of the border checkpoint. The area has lost none of the depressing seediness I remember from that desolate closing scene.