The Smell of Burnt Rubber

It is noticeable how the underground train systems in various cities all have their own unique smells. Even within the same cities, different lines carry different aromas. In Vienna, for instance, walking down the stairs into the U1 line, I always got the whiff of puke despite the fact the place was spotlessly clean. Other Vienna lines had an almost perfumed odour. Berlin has a slight, not unpleasant, burnt rubber smell.

Rested a little, I went out for dinner and a stroll around the city. As the only location I really knew at this point I stopped at Alexanderplatz. The air was warm, the area summery and without much searching I found a restaurant just at the foot of the television tower (or whatever that thing is). It didn't seem in any way special, but my first glance at the menu showed me written in English the words, "Big Ham Hock". Now ever since I was a kid I have promised myself a hock, kind of like you promise yourself a full chicken or a jar of pickled onions (well, I did). For those of you unacquainted with this delicacy, it's a pig's trotter. There is plenty of meat wrapped in plenty of fat, so it is always very juicy, and cooked right the flesh just falls off the bone. It's kind of like boiled ribs. My mother occasionally cooked my dad one as a treat and I might get a slab of the juicy pig. I think it was more a case of their parents had savoured them too; I think it was a old Dublin dish. Well, it's an old German one too, with mushy peas, boiled potatoes and saurkraut. I had to order it and simple though it was it was exactly what I expected. Even the saurkraut, which in Vienna proved a little too sour, worked well this time. Together with a pint of pils, I did it justice.

It was only 8.30, but very dark. Seeing the signs and consulting my map I got on to Unter den Linden and headed for the Brandenberg Gate. Now I have seen some mighty fine cities, but on the basis of this walk alone, Berlin has them licked. It is overwhelming in scale, beauty and grandeur. Simply amazing. Of course, I haven't seen it yet in daylight, and this wasn't the living Berlin, the nightlife, the people etc., this was more the tourist side of things. It was still awesome. I felt like taking over Poland. I jest, I jest. Actually I think I understand what drove Hitler after all. He wanted to get good seats in the Opera. I figure only someone with power can get those because no one else is getting into that edifice.

Actually while writing my last entry I looked up an artist represented in the Images of Women exhibtion ("Face, Body, Soul") by the name of Franz Von Stuck. His "Derieux as Circe" is captivating (the web scan doesn't do it justice). It turns out he was one of Hitler's favourite artists, though he was dead and buried before Hitler ever came to power. What is hilarious though is that it has been suggested that Hitler modelled his appearance on Odin in one of Von Stuck's paintings, "The Wild Chase". Even better, Hitler said that another of Von Stuck's pictures, "The Medusa", reminded him of his mother!

I kept walking becoming more and more enamoured of this city as I went. Yes, here I would live and work and, when I was ready to rest, I would retire to some place small like Paris or Rome. I hadn't seen anything of the famed nightlife, but just from the hustle and bustle of the huge streets, I knew there was that community I'd seen a glimpse of in Vienna. I had to laugh at the pretensions of Dublin. Someone once said that O'Connell street was the widest in Europe; well, that was rot. The only bridge as wide as it was long was O'Connell Bridge; so what? That's because it's small. Don't get me wrong, size does not a city make. It is not the scale of Berlin that just astounds; it's the conception of it. This is a city built as much from aesthetic as pragmatic principles, and though those aesthetic ideas may now seem jaded, one gets the feeling (as indeed has been shown by the artistic history of Germany) that it has acted as a spur to its people. Dublin may have a cultural renaissance coming yet, but its current city must be reborn too.

When I arrived at the Brandenberg Gate, after all the vast build up, and given that it appears smaller than everthing else, I should have been disappointed. However, it impresses with its serenity. It is in no way disappointing. As I stood there staring, I suddenly felt that something was wrong. I was hearing something unnatural, something vile. Country music! I turned around to see two four-wheeled Harleys(!) turning round the road's end, music blaring.

One other thing that seems wrong is the huge hotel or conference centre or whatever the hell it is at the end of Unter den Linden, just before the Gate. With walls of glass and warm interiors, it's all very eye-catching, but should it be there at all. What is it?

I continued on by the river, around Government buildings. Everywhere photographers were shuffling about with their tripods. There was a large queue even at 9.30 to get into what I presumed was the Reichstag and then to the glass dome on its roof. I'm sure the view was very impressive, but I didn't fancy the suggested 30 minute wait. Besides there was so much on the ground.

I wandered some more, then caught the reliable, clean, safe, burnt rubber odoured U-bahn back to my hotel.