1999 march 11

berlin

i was flipping through some photographs looking for a picture of my oma when i ran across this.

i think it is my favorite picture from my visit to berlin. that's saying something as i was in the middle of a scaffolding obsession and the rebuilding of east germany was fodder aplenty. my mother and i woke early and decided to walk to the brandenburg gate and beyond. the sun had only been up an hour when we happened upon marx engels platz, and, oddly enough, we both smelled fresh paint. someone had seen fit to express their dissatisfaction with the aftermath of the red regime by adorning misters marx and engels with bright red paint. or maybe it was just a prank by some bored college kids; probably bored american college kids, disappointed to have missed the real revolution.

our hotel was on the kurfurstendamm, right across the street from the cafe kranzler. this absolutely delighted my mother. when she was younger, and the friction between east and west germany was at its highest, she was addicted to pulp spy novels. in almost every one, a crucial meeting took place at the cafe kranzler: secret documents handed off to a waitress, defecting officials spilling their secrets over schwartzwald torte, young men of passion huddled over cups of hot coffee to plan escapes for their walled brethren.

we made do with huddling over coffee, planning forays into the shops and how best to liberate postcards from museums.

auf weidersehen, claire