On the rails again: On my way to Anatolia (1)

Divided City, divided Europe

I am on my way to Anatolia, … by interrail. Maybe I should not tell beforehand. Because, I might never actually get there. But if I publicly announce my intention there is a higher chance that I actually try to do it. For sure, somebody will blame me for showing off if I was not there.

Deventer station, Netherlands

There are two reasons which actually make it highly improbable that I will never make it. First, yes, from central Europe it is a very long way. Google tells me that it is 4111 km by road to what a traveler's report calls “the grim garrison town” of Kars not far from the eastern Turkish border with Armenia and Georgia. That is about the eastern most point you can get to with an interrail ticket. In comparison, west it is only 2240 km to Lisbon, 2578 km south to Agrigento, or 2871 north to Narvik. Said so, there is the Optima express from Villach to Edirne. Presently, it is the closest you get to the famous Orient Express. It takes two nights and one day. If it is on time, but that is probably not important anyway. And then, from Ankara, it is another 26 hours by night train to Kars.

Changing trains in Hengelo, Netherlands

But a night train is a night train which means is runs at night. Not so much to see, only dreams, if you manage to sleep. That is how we get to the second point. Check out all those interesting places on the way. Eastern Europe always has been a borderland. All those civilizations fighting for the land have left their traces. And those madmen, without learning from history, still fight. The 50 years of communism in those countries between Central Europe and Turkey have added an additional modern aspect. Breaking down the trip into short bits will make it more fascinating, but also time consuming.

Stop in the German border station Bad Bentheim

Nowhere else in Europe was the division of Europe into a communist and a capitalist block more imminent, more dangerous and more clashing than in Berlin. So why not go there for the beginning? It brings me 667 km to the east. Another 3631 km to go from there.

Osnabrück, Germany, lower platforms

It is easy to go to Berlin. Only one change of trains for me. The paramilitary dutch conductors don’t show up to check my ticket. Deutsche Bahn is almost on time. It looks like they try to do their best to get back my support.

One of the many ruined stations on the route in Germany

This probably is one of the most uninspiring main line train trips in Europe. More than 600 km of flat, raped countryside. In Germany, the railway buildings are in ruin, tracks overgrown with weeds. Ugliness and neglect everywhere. Modern construction inspired by fast money making dominates the silhouettes of the settlements. Parking lots, distribution centers, retail markets, … planning made by people who have lost any contact to aesthetics. Fortunately, over long stretches they have placed sound barriers on both sides of the track so high that it is now made impossible to see such insults for the eye as Bad Oeynhausen and similar towns along the route. And then my destination is Berlin, the culmination of the aesthetic mayhem created by two competing regimes.

Ruins of the former engine shed, Hannover Hbf

Only about half an hour after the stop in Hannover the countryside changes. The train runs fast across the empty, serene landscape of Brandenburg. The eye wanders over vast fields carrying the fresh green of spring, surrounding the odd lonely tree, separated by hedges and interspersed with little forests. So far this area was too poor and too remote to attract the profiteers. The few little villages and towns appear empty, old brick buildings and little concrete. There are sound barriers here too, but they are low, and overgrown by weeds in a way that they are almost incorporated in the scenery.

The flat open spaces of Brandenburg

But modern times are around the corner. The empty spaces are inviting for the placement of windmills, the vast fields offer space for solar fields. Emptiness has had its longest time.

The train brings me from a rainy morning in the Netherlands to a sunny spring afternoon in Berlin. My opinion of Berlin is not very high. A wild mixture of different building styles. Lots of traffic. In the ranking of friendliness towards visitors and politeness among European capitals not at the bottom, but almost. Hence, what a surprise. When I leave the long distance train in Hauptbahnhof and change into a crowded S-Bahn, a friendly young lady actually offers her seat. For Berlin, that is unheard of. Totally unexpected.

Station at Berlin Alexanderplatz, the former center of the GDR

Isn’t it nice if you have a hotel close to that means of transport you selected to actually get there? People like to have their car in front of their hotel room. Or at least underneath. Well I would not like to stay next to an international airport or a motorway. However, I always try to select a hotel close to the station, best with a view of it. First of all, when I arrive by train, I don’t want to

carry my luggage for a long way since it always seems to be too heavy.. Second, it is nice to watch all those trains from your room and dream about more destinations.

Inside Alexanderplatz station

While other European capitals like London or Paris have terminal stations, Berlin has the Stadtbahn. It is the elevated railway line used by West-East long distance trains and the S-Bahn, the commuter railway network extending far into the surrounding countryside. My hotel room overlooks these rails on their graceful arches. Passengers from all those trains running East or West can look right into my window. Behind the tracks is a huge advertisement of a shopping mall displaying a naked lady. Sweet dreams assured.

View from my hotel room

However, I did not realize that it can be so loud. No way to leave the window ajar after going to bed. After 2 nights I know the type of train by the sound. When the window is closed it is OK. At least I sleep very well.

S-Bahn passing on the viaduct at night

To be frank: Besides the doubtful view of the graceful arches of the railway viaduct there is not much that would recommend that hotel. There is no comfy chair and no real reading light, no comfortable working space, no bar, no wellness, no restaurant, ….. There is not even a water glass or a bin. There always is a television. Why do they always provide a television. For free!

Office buildings in former East Berlin

The hotel is in the former eastern part of the city. While they have meticulously removed most traces of the former wall, it is remarkable that it is still immediately obvious after 30+ years on which side of the former border you roam. The patched cobbled streets have not changed, neither the sidewalks which are either unpaved and sandy or paved with slabs of big stone plates probably covering the sewer or some other infrastructure line. Around the corner a ruined church stands as a reminder of what was lost. Foundations of brick walls are actually the last remainders of the medieval city wall. There is more of it than of the famous communist Berlin wall. Huge 19th century classicist office buildings still look for a useful purpose.

Nowadays the front line is not a wall, or a checkpoint charly. Today the front line is on the road.

Cyclists trying to find their way

A Berlin friend of mine is an activist for the Berlin cycling association, They just booked a big victory by forcing the Berlin senator for traffic to resign. They found out that her thesis is a plagiarism. The question is why anybody would like to cycle in Berlin anyway without either being highly suicidal or phlegmatic. In both cases death is the likely consequence. My friends association places white bicycles in the city streets as memorials to cyclists killed in action. Around 180 white ghost cycles grace the town by now. Who wants to be next? When he unlocks his bicycle after we leave a pleasant lakeside restaurant at the Lietzensee an older guy asks us why we don’t use a car. He has a V8. It gives him erotic satisfaction.

The Funkturm built in 1926, one of the landmarks of Berlin (West)

My friend grew up in what was then the western part of the city. And he still sticks to this heritage more than 30 years after the wall fell. In former east Berlin he feels disoriented. It is not his world. When I ask him for a recommendation for a restaurant his answer is: forget it, it’s all loud and full everywhere. Too many people in this town, too many tourists., too much noise, too much traffic.

When the Funkturm waas lost to the western sectors of the city, the East answered by building the television tower at the Alexanderplatz

So I start walking along the Spree, the canal like river which is Berlin’s equivalent to the mighty Seine or Themse. It is pleasant and quiet. Trees provide some shade from the sun which is still strong in the evening. I pass a lock where a couple of excursion boats pass through. One is hosting a little party. It is fashionable and peaceful.

The Spree

A homeless man has set up his camp under a bridge. Tent (is it leaking, the bridge?), chairs, table and plastic bags. When I pass he is busy cleaning the ground around his belongings with a broom. In front of a fast food chain a bare chested, almost naked and heavily tattooed man is stretched out on the pavement. Nobody cares. Probably he was kicked down by the consequences of the food served in there. Joggers pass by, some taking advantage of the nice evening running almost naked. Only the number of empty beer bottles under the park benches bear witness that there might be other times as well.

The next stretch houses a number of restaurants at the water’s edge. I take an outside table covered in white table cloth and cutlery wrapped in napkins. I select an asparagus-maracuja soup as a starter. The fried liver with blue onions and mashed potatoes is one of the best I ever had. I top it off with a strawberry cheesecake and icecream.