Ein Prosit

All my memories gathered 'round her

Miner's lady, stranger to blue water

Dark and dusty, painted on the sky

Misty taste of moonshine

Teardrops in my eye

- Henry John Deutshendorf (aka John Denver), Country Roads

Memorial to the victims of the 1980 Oktoberfest bombing. Photo RGH

This trip has been all about surprises, and Oktoberfest had many in store for us. First off, we thought it was pretty much a beer festival. We knew that there was a "carnival" as well, but figured it was just a side-show. As it turns out, this was one of the biggest fair grounds we have seen. For those of you in the U.S., think of a state fair; and for those of you in Toronto, think of the CNE. The size of the grounds is enormous. There are roller coasters, Ferris wheels, games of chance and skill, and carnies. Amazing how carnies the world over are pretty much the same, eh?

One of the other surprises ... John Denver songs were playing everywhere. Apparently, Henry John Deutshendorf (John Denver) is German. Who knew?

Of course there are beer tents, too. The beer "tents" are enormous buildings that seat up to 8000 people ... all drinking beer. As you might expect, in addition to providing food, they also have facilities to service 8000 drinkers (the line for the Pissoir was much shorter than the one for the ladies). We thought the buildings would be permanent structures, but they are not. There are 14 "tents" and building starts 90 days before Oktoberfest. The festival lasts 16 days, and all the structures are dismantled within 30 days after it is all over.

On the ground at Oktoberfest. Photos RGH/KAH

On opening day of Oktoberfest, the kegs are tapped at noon and beer is served until 10:30p. Monday to Friday, beer is sold from 10a-10:30p, and on weekends and holidays, the tents serve beer from 9a-10:30p. In total, over 16 million litres of beer are served over the 16 days of the festival.

Yet again, we signed up for a Sandemans tour. Kind of an odd choice, right? Who needs a guide for Oktoberfest? We debated, hemmed and hawed, and ultimately chose to purchase tickets because the price included a reserved table in the Lowenbrau tent, a "welcome to the tour" 0.5L of beer to drink while walking around town, 2L of beer each in the tent, and 1/2 a chicken each. You scoff! Having a reserved table in the tent was worth the ticket price in and of itself. We had the table from 12:00-4:30, at which point the festivities apparently become less "family friendly." Before things got truly raucous, we left the beer tent and enjoyed the carnival rides.

  

In the Lowenbrau tent. Photos KAH/RGH

Any time you sit down for a 4 hour drinking session with 20 other strangers, you are at risk of having things go terribly sideways. We were really lucky. The group of people we were with was absolutely amazing. They were funny and interesting, from all over the world and all walks of life. They were engaging with Jordan, and gave me a little friendly ribbing when they had to wait for me after I got separated from the group. They were people I would gladly travel with and call "friend."

Or maybe that's just the beer talking.

Eins, zwei, drei ...

From Prague With Love

I am a passenger

I stay under glass

I look through my window so bright

I see the stars come out tonight

- Iggy Pop, Passenger

Prague Castle. Photo RGH

Prague - old Europe, walkable, relaxing, quaint. Not. We were really surprised by Prague. We knew it was old and walkable, so we assumed it was small. We knew it was a popular destination for young people travelling on the cheap, so we assumed it would have a lot of bars and clubs, be hopping at night, but otherwise relatively un-crowded. Our assumptions were all wrong. Certain things were almost stereotypical ... taxi drivers looked like Russian thugs from bad Hollywood movies and drove banged-up Mercedes. The women were out in full make-up and dressed to impress. And everyone, man, woman, young, and old smoked cigarettes. It's also the first place on our trip where we got ripped off. Our taxi ride from the train station should have cost 450 Koruna (about 18 Euros) and our cabbie charged us 25 Euros, but if that's the worse that happens to us this trip, we'll be doing just fine.

Prague is a city of contradictions. It's an ancient city at the centre of a young democracy. The people are justifiably proud of their history, but the memories of communist rule are still fresh and painful. It boasts a young, bustling population presided over by the largest ancient castle in the world. It's a city of churches in a country of atheists. Churches all over the city have been converted to other uses because the population can't sustain them. Restaurants and nightclubs, hotels and hostels, and one of them was even used as a "gentlemen's club".

  

  

The streets of Prague. Photos RGH

The Strahov Monastery was founded in 1143 by the Premonstratensians under the direction of Jindrich Zdik, Bishop John of Prague, and Vladislaus II, Duke of Bohemia. It sits atop the hill overlooking Prague near to the castle. Over the past 874 years, it has seen a variety of functions. Today it continues to serve the Premonstratensian Order and includes a Theological Hall, a commercial brewery, and a hotel. Our room was on the upper level of what was originally built as an economic headquarters building in the 17th century. It was a long climb up narrow, winding stairs to get there, but the inside of the room was stunning, and the views out the windows were breathtaking.

  

Strahov Monastery overlooking the city. Photos KAH/RGH

As usual for this trip, we had a Sandemans tour scheduled on our first full day in the city. For the first time, we were disappointed. There were 60 people for the English language tour, so they split us into 3 groups of 20. Our guide, Andrea, was Czechoslovakian (yes, I know that designation doesn't exist any more, but bear with me). On 1 January 1993, Czechoslovakia split into two countries, Slovakia and the Czech Republic. However, Andrea's grandfather was Slovak and her grandmother Czech. Her father is Czech, and her mother Slovak. So, she states that she is a proud "Czechoslovakian". She grew up under communist rule and was a teenager during the fall of communism in the late 1980s. She could have provided so much insight into the people and culture. Unfortunately, her tour stuck to the standard textbook site descriptions interspersed with a few stories of the buildings and famous people from the area. She was difficult to hear above the background noise and crowds around us. The contrast to our previous tours was made more obvious when we crossed paths with the other two groups where we overheard their guides telling dynamic historical stories and legends. Hopefully, our Sandemans experience in Prague will not be repeated elsewhere. The good thing about the tours is that they are "free" ... you tip the guide based on what you think the tour was worth. We didn't stiff her, and we paid what I think was a fair price, but I would have gladly paid more if the experience had been better.

  

  

Prague Castle and St Vitus Cathedral. Photos RGH

We had the rest of the afternoon to explore on our own, but decided to return to the monastery for a much needed break. We also wanted to try the famous Czech dumplings and beer at the monastery brewery. We did venture out to wander the castle grounds. Unfortunately, it was while everything was shutting down for the evening. The upside of that was the relatively smaller crowds. When we went back to the castle the next morning, it was amongst several thousand others. As Kari pointed out, the only thing that made the crowds tolerable was the absolutely enormous space in which we were all contained. Prague castle occupies an area of almost 70,000 sqm, and is the largest ancient castle in the world. Construction started in 870 with its first walled building. It has undergone numerous reconstruction and renovations, most recently in the late 18th century. The construction of St Vitus Cathedral, the centerpiece of the castle grounds and visible from throughout Prague, began in 1344.

Our rail trip through Europe was designed as a "post-card" tour ... 1-2 days in each city to see the highlights and to get a taste of the local flavours. As has been typical, our short time in Prague left us thirsting for more.

Na zdravi ...

Heroes

Where are we now?

Where are we now?

The moment you know

You know ...

- David Bowie, Where Are We Now?

Holocaust-Mahnmal (Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe), Berlin. Photo RGH

Berlin was never in our travel plans, at least not for this trip. We knew that it was a city we would want to visit, but we also knew it was a city that would need several days, so our plan was to head from Amsterdam to Prague and save Berlin for another trip. I had designed a circle around Europe ... Amsterdam, Prague, Budapest, Venice, Nice, and Paris. From there, Edinburgh, and New York City. One of the advantages of travelling long distances by train was going to be booking sleeper cars and waking up in a new city (and not having to pay for a room for the night). By going to fewer cities, and travelling at night, we could spend an extra day or two in a couple of places.

I spent days figuring out the route, train schedules, and which trains were direct so we wouldn't have to awaken for connections. I proudly presented my masterpiece to Kari. After initially giving her nod of approval, she threw a monkey wrench into the works by coming to me a few days later and announcing that she wanted to be in Munich for Oktoberfest. I went back to the drawing board with routes, dates, and schedules. No matter how I twisted and re-routed things, I just couldn't make it work and told her so.

She insisted.

I said "No."

We are going to Oktoberfest.

Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men, eh?

This required a complete redesign of the cities we would visit and the route we would take to get to them. The problem was Munich. Getting us to Munich from the east was easy, getting us out to the west at the right time just wouldn't work. The other problem was getting from Amsterdam to Prague during daylight hours. Everything I tried was going to require at least one connection and entail a lengthy layover. In the end, we decided to take the extended layover in Berlin. The new route took us to Amsterdam, Berlin, Prague, Munich, Lyon, and Paris, then on to the UK and US. There would be no long, overnight train rides.

Brandenburger Tor (Brandenburg Gate). Photo RGH

We arrived in Berlin during that golden hour of light surrounding sunset. The Brandenburg Gate was stunning, lit by both soft orange hues from the setting sun and the warm glow of spotlights. It was poised against a deep blue, cloudless autumn sky. We saw it through the windows of a taxi doing Mach 1 along city streets. We would get to the gate the next morning, but had only the one night in Berlin, and would not get a second chance to see it lit. The photographer in me wept.

The neighbourhood of our apartment looked pretty dodgy when the taxi dropped us off. There was trash strewn along the sidewalk and graffiti covered every available space. Of course, I was nominated to brave the night and find us food. Just down the street was Piri's, a dive chicken and burger joint. I sat outside enjoying a beer and watching the local talent walk by while I waited for our order. Let me tell you, no hyperbole, that might have been the best damned burger I have ever tasted. Forever-ever. I ate Little H's leftover chicken sandwich for lunch the next day, and it was good, but it didn't hold a candle to the burger.

  

  

Street views, Kreuzberg. Photos RGH

Still feeling the effects of the 7-hour time difference, I was up early the next morning and out the door to shoot while the light was soft. I had thought about buying a walking stick/monopod combo when we were in Wellington and now regret not doing so. Because of camera shake, I'm discarding far too many potentially good photos.

We had another Sandemans tour scheduled for the day, but first we had to walk the 5 km into town. Kreutzberg, where we were staying, has a large Turkish population, so along the way we had some Turkish coffee to kickstart the pace. As we approached the Embassy District, the buildings became more imposing, but much newer; a reminder of the devastation wrought by the Battle of Berlin and the subsequent reconsctruction under communist rule. Just before arriving to our destination at the Brandenburg Gate, we crossed Checkpoint Charlie. Nothing there is original anymore. It's all a reconstruction and a tourist trap, but if you can blur out the neon glow provided by McD's and KFC, you can almost imagine what it might have looked like.

Checkpoint Charlie. Photo RGH

  

Berlin street views. Photos RGH

Our Sandemans tour started at the Brandenburg Gate (1791). Atop the gate sits a statue of a Quadriga bearing Eileen, the goddess of peace. She was supposed to protect the city of Berlin and keep it from harm for all of eternity. In the same square where the tour began, sits the Hotel Adlon and it's famous Royal Suite. The guest list reads like a Who's Who of 19th and 20th century great thinkers, luminaries, politicians, royalty, and Nobel prize winners. More recently, it has seen a string of names from the Hollywood elite. Unfortunately, most of us know it from the infamous Michael Jackson baby-dangling incident.

The Battle of Berlin (16 Apr - 2 May 1945) was the last major offensive battle in Europe during WWII. The German garrison surrendered on 2 May, but skirmishes continued to the west for another 6 days as German forces fought their way westward to surrender to the Allies rather than the Russians. Berlin today continues to bear the emotional and physical scars. Many of the buildings, monuments, and statuary are marked with bullet holes. Large buildings show entire sections of dark and light blocks where repairs have been made, and the Berlin Cathedral retains sections blackened by incendiary bombs. We stood in a plain gravel car park, underneath of which was Hitler's bunker. Non-descript, un-marked, all but forgotten.

Hotel Adlon. Photo RGH

Goethe in the Tiergarten. Notice the bullet pock marks. Photo RGH

Konzerthaus Berlin (1821). Photo RGH

Berlin Cathedral (1905). Photo RGH

Berlin Wall looking west from the Luftwaffe building in the east. Photo RGH

Sunday morning, August 13 1961, the people of Berlin awoke to a new reality. Up until they went to bed on Saturday night, Berliners crossed the divide between East and West fairly regularly. Some lived on one side and worked, owned businesses, or went to school on the other. Families were often separated by what was essentially a soft border. The next morning, the border was demarcated by razor wire and armed military patrols with orders to shoot anyone who attempted to cross. Overnight, people had lost their jobs, their livelihoods, had no access to their schools, and were permanently separated from their families and loved-ones. The effects would last well beyond the toppling of the wall on 9 November 1989. Rob, our Sandemans tour guide, told a story of love, deceit, and redemption that he swore was true.

On Saturday 12 August 1961, our man and his love went to their separate homes, hers in the east and his in the west, secure in their undying love and their future together. The next day, they were separated by only a few hundred meters, but were worlds apart. Nevertheless, our man vowed to wait as long as it took to be united with his love once again. They kept in contact by secret notes and by watching for each other across the divide. 

As time went by, our man heard rumors of others obtaining travel visas to the East. Eventually, he hatched a plan to bribe a border guard to provide him with a "diplomatic" visa so he could cross the border and hold his love, if only briefly. He worked and saved, trying to ferret away the necessary funds.

Walking along the street one day, he saw a woman who exactly resembled his love. He ran to her, only to discover that the woman in question was not his love, but her doppleganger. And that's when he hatched his devious plan. He wooed her and won her over. He won over her family. He won over her friends. And when the time was right, he took her on holiday ... to East Berlin.

On that fateful day, they crossed from West to East with all the appropriate papers. At the appointed time, our man pulled the car over and pushed his new girlfriend out the door, retaining her papers. He drove around the corner where he picked up his love and made a beeline for the border, gaining safe entry to the West. 

Needless to say, the girlfriend was quite distraut. She was in what had become a foreign country, with no money, no ID, and no way to return home. As you can imagine, she raised quite a fuss. Her parents, people of some standing, also raised a fuss when her disappearance was noted. It was discovered where her predicament had landed her and she was ultimately returned to the West.

On her return home, she contacted the police and our man was arrested. He plead no-contest, was sentenced to seven months in jail, and served his time. He was released to live happily ever after with the love of his life. 

Hero or scoundrel? Fact or fairy tale? It is for you to decide.

The wall holds such a large stature in popular culture and mythology, I was surprised at how small it is ... only 3.6 metres high. Broken and chipped away, crumbling, it was such a small thing to behold and yet an enormity to ponder.

Shortly after our visit to the wall, we were headed back to our apartment to retrieve our bags and set off for the train station. Next stop, Prague.

Czech, please ...