Walking down the aisle

Imagine the scene.  It's midday in a busy discount supermarket and I'm wandering the aisles looking for inspiration for the evening meal.  Easily distracted as I am, I come across a prominently displayed box of shower gel and stop to look.  Okay, it's not going to help me decide what to buy for dinner, but it was a brief respite from the intense intellectual activity.  The price seems really good; 1 litre priced at a 250ml bottle.  Not bad.  I forget the groceries and pull over to the side to take a better look.  There must be a catch somewhere, the product was ridiculously cheap.  

On the opposite side of the display I observe another housewife with her trolley eying up the bottles.  Her face displays the same thought processes that are going through my mind: shall I buy a bottle, or not?  Unable to decide, she picks up a random bottle from the box and flips the top in order to smell the contents.  Sniff, sniff and she wrinkles her nose.  She then offers the bottle for me to smell.  I lean forward and inhale.  

Yuck!  

"It smells just like washing up liquid," I opine.

"You're right."  The other lady smiles, returns the bottle to the box with its friends and continues pushing her trolley along the aisles.  I, too, follow my own path.

My short interlude provided no inspiration for the 'dinner dilemma' but it did give me an insight into the philosophy behind effective retailing.

Where's the party?

“Dear Neighbours,

It’s my birthday on Saturday and I’m throwing a party.  This is just to let you know that things might get a big loud late at night and I apologise right now for any inconvenience.

Best wishes,

Jacqueline”

The above message was scrawled on a scrap of paper and sellotaped onto the inside of my apartment building’s front door.  It happens quite often.  Some notices are professional – they are run off on a computer with fancy fonts and printed nice and large so you can’t miss the message.  Others, like Jacqueline’s, are scribbled by hand with whatever writing instrument comes to hand.  In Jackie’s case, a dried up felt tip pen.  She obviously doesn’t do much in the way of writing at home.

It would be nice if Jacqueline’s party was of the kind where you have tea and cake, play musical chairs and thank the hostess as you leave late afternoon.  But no, this was the other kind of party, the kind your mother wouldn’t want you to go to.

The sticking point here is not the fact that Jacqueline has given me advance warning that I’m not going to get any sleep on Saturday night, but the fact that, it’s somehow acceptable to be unsociable, just so long as you tell everyone about it beforehand.  It’s sort of like saying: ‘Look, I’m about to have a tantrum, and I’m really sorry about it, but you can’t accuse me, because I told you what was coming.  So tough luck.’  Jacqueline knows that she can exploit her neighbours’ implicit approval.  She can behave badly with impunity.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no killjoy.  Have a party if you want, get drunk, burst your ear drums, and race down the staircase clinking your empty beer bottles.  Just don’t insult my intelligence by saying you want to celebrate your impending senility and you’re really cut up about my sleepless night.

Getting around in one piece

Policemen, firemen, and prison officers travelling around Berlin are allowed to use public transport for free, not just while performing their official duties but also when commuting to and from work.  The only stipulation is that they have to be wearing their uniforms and not civvies.

A good move on the part of the city authorities - this is one section of society that deserves as much help and support as they can get.  (Some may disagree with me here, but that's another story).  The philosophy behind the idea is that the presence of uniformed law enforcers on Berlin's trams and trains would act as a deterrent to would-be vandals and yobbos.  

A good idea in theory, but there's a problem.  The employees in question don't want to travel in uniform.  They prefer to pay 91 Euros (3 zones) for a monthly travel ticket and use public transport incognito.  Why would they voluntarily pay so much when they could travel for free?  

Policemen, firemen, and prison officers say they don't like to use public transport while in uniform because they are molested by other travellers.  Makes you think.

Karl Marx Allee - socialist lifestyle in Berlin

Originally named Stalinallee, this boulevard is a two-kilometre long living museum dedicated to the ideals of socialist living.  The buildings went up in the early 1950s, with the aim of providing spacious housing for the proletariat, and emulating the socialist classicism of Soviet architecture.  This region of Friedrichshain suffered heavy wartime damage and in the post-war era, new housing was needed.  Since the area fell under Soviet jurisdiction, it was only natural that the housing constructed reflected Soviet tastes.

The boulevard has its own homepage which gives inside views of apartments for sale or rent, in addition to business premises available.  Prices are not exactly ‘bargain basement’ but then I suppose the developers are placing emphasis on the historical element. 

East German buildings are not known for their technical sophistication or high quality and I can well imagine these apartments would have had their fair share of problems.  Labourers had to contend with a strict schedule and manage without modern construction technologies: they literally used their bare hands to erect each floor. 

Deemed to be of significant architectural merit, the entire complex is now listed and under state protection.  As such, no structural changes can be made, for example, installing double glazing to replace badly fitting windows.  Potential occupants might want to bear this in mind before they buy a piece of history.

Frankfurter Tor

If you wanted to take a look inside one of the buildings you could always pretend to be a potential buyer and approach an estate agent.  A quicker alternative would be to visit the Humana second-hand shop at Frankfurter Tor.  The building in which the shop is housed forms part of the Karl Marx Allee complex and the visitor is free to wander around inside.  As a charity shop, they have obviously left the interior as they found it – winding stone staircase, draughty metal-framed windows, mosaic-marbled floors.  By the way, the Humana shop is itself another museum of GDR fashion trends.  Lots of 1960s polyester skirts, loud ties, and absolutely hundreds of gents’ long leather coats, of the kind once favoured by the secret police.

Domed tower at Frankfurter Tor

Finishing this short tour of socialist architecture, I found the following detail ironic.  At Frankfurter Tor, there are two corner buildings facing each other from opposite sides of the square.  Each building is topped by a grand, domed tower which the architect (Henselmann) intended to resemble the domes of the French and German cathedrals (c.1705) in Gendarmenmarkt.  How appropriate that the German Democratic Republic wanted its grandest square to resemble the splendour and grandeur of eighteenth-century Calvinist churches in Friedrichstadt.

Berlin's Ghost Stations

Gothic & Graffiti

A handful of Berlin’s stations on the S-Bahn network (the rapid transit system) are known as Ghost Stations, or Geisterbahnhöfe.  During the Cold War these stations were closed in order to stop East Berliners escaping to the west.

Nordbahnhof is one such ghost station.  Originally called Stettiner Bahnhof, it began operation in 1936 and continued working throughout World War II.  In the Spring of 1945 the tunnels leading to the station were flooded to make life difficult for the advancing Soviet troops.  As luck would have it, the district where the station is situated fell within the Soviet sector in East Berlin.  The Russians repaired the damage and reopened the station two years later.  They also changed the name to Nordbahnhof in 1950.

The ‘ghost’ part of the story now comes in, together with the Berlin Wall.  When the wall went up in 1961, the station was closed and remained closed until 1990.  Lines that passed through this station originated and ended in West Berlin, with the middle section of the line situated in East Berlin territory.  Part of this East Berlin line stopped at Nordbahnhof.  It was, of course, unthinkable that a train heading towards West Berlin should make a stop in the East, at a station where East Berliners could simply hop on and then find themselves in the West ten minutes later.  So the East German authorities bricked it up.

The station was plunged into a time warp.  Trains from the West would drive through the station, they would slow down but not stop.  Western passengers on the train would observe a deserted station where time had literally stood still – decor, furnishings and advertisements were from 1961 and for each new generation of passengers, the ghost stations seemed even more alien.

The East German authorities sealed all possible entrances to the station above and below ground.  Anyone descending the stairs to the platforms would meet a brick wall.  The tunnel openings through which trains entered the station were made narrower – anyone trying to get to the West by riding on a train’s rooftop would meet with a sticky end.

The station was of course reopened in 1990, cleaned up and put back into service.  The original Art Deco style of the 1930s has been maintained, but somewhat marred by the addition of incongruous graffiti art next to the train lines, specially commissioned for the purpose.  There are photos of the station dating from the Cold War era on display in the entrance hall.

Messrs. Knobloch, Richter and Wenzel have written an excellent book on Berlin’s Geisterbahnhöfe with lots of fantastic photographs (however, the spoilsports at Google Books have left out the photos).  The authors interviewed train employees who worked at the stations at the time when they were shut down. 

To the trains

Entrance Hall

Most underground stations in Berlin are warm and cosy.  Nordbahnhof, however, is cold and draughty with a chill that goes right through to the marrow.  I’m sure this is down to the geology of the place but it is something that just makes you impatient for your train to arrive so you can get away while you can.

Trains to the West, via the East

Entrance Hall

Berlin-Hackescher Markt

Berlin-Hackesher Markt, originally uploaded by Elizabeth Chairopoulou.

This S-Bahn station is one of very few Berlin stations that has been maintained in its original condition, without additions or radical change.  Built in the 1880s, I find it amazing that builders had the patience to construct such a beautiful public building while lacking today's advance technical knowledge.  Terracotta frames the porthole windows: from inside a waiting train, you can see the surrounding buildings through the porthole.  The platform is not as long as those in modern stations and thankfully, hasn't been desecrated by the presence of kiosks selling oriental takeaway and pizzas in envelopes.  The roof is wooden with skylights which makes for a bright, airy atmosphere even on dismal winter days.

Outside, the district is a magnet for tourists with cafeterias, boutiques and bars. A lot of it is a bit kitsch but the youngsters seem to like it.

The square hosts an outdoor market twice a week - on good-weather days everyone is packed in like sardines.

The area has just received the attention of developers. That means another huge office block has gone up right next to the station, with the attendant restaurants, bakeries, pharmacies etc. to help the employees spend their money during the lunch breaks. Everything is fresh, new and clean here, but regrettably, the same cannot be said for the space underneath the station arches. The bar proprietors use them as convenient dumping areas for old tables and sundry cafeteria paraphernalia, the ground is muddy and they have fenced off their private rubbish tips. This is in full sight of the trams that terminate next to the arches. The owners are obviously too busy with pulling pints and slicing sandwiches to go outside and clean up a bit.

Final resting place

Final resting place, originally uploaded by Elizabeth Chairopoulou.

When Berlin bus stops reach retirement age, they are put out to pasture in this depot in the eastern part of the city. Even off duty, they form orderly lines.