Ich bin ein Berliner

After a wonderful Christmas season in the US with our families, Fritz and I are back in Berlin, Germany and it is SWEET!  

We are subletting this super cool flat that looks like it is right off the set of Mad Men.  It's owned by a  very hip couple who is taking a 5-month sabbatical in South America, as one does.  The surrounding neighborhood is incredible with more eateries, coffee shops, markets, bookstores and shopping than anyone could possibly want.  

AND, we actually live 2 blocks from David Bowie's old flat.  

No joke.  The Berliners love Bowie and people are still dropping flowers and lighting candles as they mourn his recent death.  

Normal people live in this building, so every day they have to wade through the wilted, frozen roses in order to exit their apartment.  As a matter of fact, the fellow we are subletting from knows a girl who lives there.  She happens to be dating his son!  

To give you a sense of where we live, here is a map of Berlin.  It's a huge city and is the capital of Germany.   It has a rich history, probably the most notable recent event took place in 1989 when the Berlin Wall separating East Germany and West Germany since 1961 was torn down and with it, communism in Germany was brought to an end.  The country was reunited.  Fritz and I live in Schöneberg (pronounced shoe-nah-berg... sort of), which is in the middle of the city toward the south.  This neighborhood used to be part of West Germany, which was not the part controlled by the communist party.  There is a noticeable difference in architecture, among other things, if you hop over to the old East German neighborhoods.  

Here's a snapshot of our street looking to the right after exiting our front door.  We live on the edge of a quieter residential area and a bustling commercial area.  

The reason we are here in Berlin is because it is the home of the Bundesarchiv- the Federal Archive.  The records inside are extremely important to Fritz's research and since East Germany does not exist anymore, access to the records are not restricted.  Fritz can see it all!  This was one of the challenges he ran into in Frankfurt since private banks and the archives of the current German government are a bit protective of their files.  

There it is.  He is going to be spending A LOT of time in that white building. 

The ornate door handles on the entrance to the Rathaus Schöneberg.

One of the obligatory steps involved in moving to Berlin is registering our home.  We had to do this in Frankfurt too.  It's a magical opportunity to stand in line and experience the German bureaucratic system.  Or not, as the case may be.  Twice we attempted to register at the Rathaus Schöneberg, the city hall of our neighborhood.  It's a beautiful edifice and the historic location where President John F. Kennedy gave the famous speech in which he said, "Ich bin ein Berliner"- I am a Berliner.   In our first attempt to register,  we waited in line for about an hour until Fritz went and asked if we would actually be able to register today.  After he was told they were only taking people with appointments, we left.  For our second attempt, Fritz walked over at 7am in order to be the first in line when the Rathaus opened at 8.  He arrived to find 15 people already waiting.  When the doors opened, a Rathaus administrator told Fritz that, once again, they were already out of numbers for people without an appointment.  You might be wondering why we didn't just make an appointment.  Well we tried that too.  The earliest appointment was not until mid-March and we are technically required to register within 2 weeks of moving.  

So Monday morning, we decided to try our luck at an alternative building 30 minutes away.  We thought maybe there would be shorter lines and better luck getting a number if we tried a small establishment.  

No, the Bürgerbüro is not the place to pick up a quarter-pounder with cheese and a Diet Coke.  It means civil office.  Fritz and I arrived at 7:25am, and this time, we were the first pair in line.  When the doors opened at 8, we had no trouble getting a number.  By 9:30 we had successfully registered our residence!  

We've been doing plenty of fun things too.  It's not all archives and bureaucratic line-standing.  My first weekend there, we went to the Jewish Museum.  

Fallen Leaves is an installation in the "Memory Void."  The artist, Menashe Kadishman, has dedicated his work to all the victims of violence and war.  Visitors are invited to walk on the faces and listen to the clanging and rattling as the metal sheets crash into one another.  

We have also spent time just walking around the city whenever we can.  Sometimes we have a destination, but sometimes we just walk.  

One very obvious characteristic of Berlin is the presence of many many murals painted on buildings all over the city.  

I think I am going to have to dedicate an entire post to some of the murals I find.  Or perhaps I'll just weave them into posts as I go.  

Koblenz

Settled between two rivers, the Rhine and the Moselle, rests a little German town called Koblenz.  A train headed northwest out of Frankfurt's main station will take you here in less than an hour.  Fritz and I spent last week in Koblenz as it is home to the Bundesarchiv (Federal archive), an important spot for Fritz's research.  

The town was established way back in 8 BC when it was used as a military post.  Koblenz still has a few historical landmarks, but more than anything, I'd say it's an awesome shopping town.  It's basically a big outdoor mall with cobbled pedestrian streets interspersed with an occasional church.  

It was full of little squares that have the traditional Christmas Market huts set up to sell sausage, Glühwein, and holiday knick-knacks. 

One of my favorite Christmas Market set-ups is the hovering sausage grill.  A grate is suspended from the ceiling with a bed of hot coals below it.  The grate can then be spun and swung over the coals until the sausages are nicely roasted. 

The first two days were pretty cold and rainy, so while Fritz was at work, I sought out a bit of coziness to read and write for a while.  

I found a cafe in the middle of town that ended up being my home-base for the week.  I ate that bright pink beet soup 3 out of the 4 days we were in Koblenz.  I'm not usually one to get stuck in a rut when there is so much culinary potential to explore, but it was just so good!!!  I couldn't help myself!  

On the third day, the sun came out so I put on my sneakers and hit the road.  I walked through the main shopping area, but due to limited suitcase real-estate, I wasn't in a place to acquire extra things on this trip.  Window shopping is entertaining for a finite period.  Fritz and I will be heading back to the US soon and we need to be able to carry all of our belongings without hiring a donkey to take a bonus load.  I hear donkeys don't do well on airplanes anyway.  

I left the shops and headed to the river.  

At the northern tip of town, there is a giant monument where the Rhine River meets the Moselle.  

The original monument to Emperor William I of Germany was built in 1897.  It was destroyed in World War II, but was rebuilt in 1953 and re-dedicated to German unity.  

You can climb to the top of the monument and enjoy a lovely view of the two rivers at their point of convergence.  

Of course, it is always fun to take double exposures. 

The Basilica of St. Castor is the oldest church in the German state of Rhineland Palatinate.  It was built between 817 and 836.  The church was named a basilica minor by Pope John Paul II in 1991.  A rich history has unfolded around the church since it was built.  Through the years, it served as an important meeting place for emperors and kings and their descendants and was a place where disputes between these powerful people were negotiated and settled.  

The church had a pretty door knob. 

I was surprised to find it completely empty, although I suppose not many people go to church on a Wednesday afternoon.  

Koblenz had several very beautiful churches spread throughout the town.  This is another rather pretty one set right on the main road leading to the shopping area.  

Thursday provided more sun and good weather.  After a lunch of beet soup, I thought it would be nice to get a glimpse of Fritz's world at the Bundesarchiv (again, that is Federal archive).  I knew the archive was kind of on the outskirts of town and that Fritz usually takes a bus to get there, but since it was a nice day I figured a walk would be better.  

I had to hike up a substantial hill that divides the town.  At the top of the hill sat an antiquated fort that looked ripe for exploring- a nice detour on my way to the archive.

 

Fort Grand Duke Constantine was part of the Prussian fortress that belonged to Feste Kaiser Alexander in the 1820s.  Upon reaching the main gates at the top of the hill, I found the Fort to be closed for the season.  I snapped a few photos of the outside and continued my walk to the Bundesarchiv.  

I learned that the walk to the archive is almost entirely uphill.  Now I understand why Fritz takes the bus every day.  

To give myself a breather every now and again, I stopped to take pictures of dead flowers and winter berries. 

Along with a self-portrait or two... because why not?  

I finally made it to the massive structure that is the Bundesarchiv.  Looking at the map, the archive takes up several blocks.  It isn't really very pretty.  It's probably good they kept it out of the middle of town.  It's a bit of an eye-sore for tourists I imagine. 

Fritz came out to say hello.  It was a nice reward to see his handsome face after my long up-hill hike.  I wasn't allowed to go in the archive since I'm not a researcher or a student so I basically said "hi" and "bye", turned around and started my walk back down the hill.  

Back in town, I wandered the street for a bit, then bought some yarn from a lady who knits faster than my Aunt Carol (which is really saying something- Aunt Carol is a machine!), and then I watched this guy perform his one-man show.  He had an elaborate percussion section rigged up to his back.  His puppet friends were dangling from the neck of his guitar by fishing line.  When he bounced up and down they danced, and he blew into the wooden pipes around his neck to provide some lovely treble overtones.  I can only assume the llama was actually quite vicious and was therefore standing guard of his money collection.