Berlin

Berlin Marathon

I like Marathons. There is something almost superhuman in completing 42 km in anything between two to four hours plus, for the serious runner. This will be my second International Marathon - as a clapper and supporter - for the record. Marathons are getting to be a great excuse for me to visit selected cities with a buddy whose husband is one such serious runner. 

Berlin is on the international circuit as one of the "Big Five" . You not only have to qualify with  timing, but also balloted to have your name on the participants' list - so overwhelming is the demand. And so it goes, that KH is one of the 40,000 or so selected, and I bought myself a ticket to Berlin.

Catching a connecting flight anywhere in Europe is a trial in fitness and endurance itself. Flights are usually late by a couple of minutes, and by the time one touches down in the international arrival hall and clears security, only to find that the domestic connection is several kilometres removed. While awaiting custom clearance, I instinctively lifted the rope barriers to take a short cut since I was the last and only one, only to be ticked off by the customs officer. He said condescendingly " Don't do that, it's so Mongolian". Not one to take it lying down, I gave him my most ingratiating smile and said that I was in a hurry; and that on most days, I am a lady." I caught my connecting flight feeling that I ran a marathon to board the plane on the dot. The airline was kind - they waited for the stragglers.

The atmosphere in and around Brandenberg Tor was electrifying. This was the very symbol of liberation and unification; a fitting iconic spot for the start and finish of the race. 

On the big day, A and I staked out at the half-way marker along the 21 km route, joined by other supporters and family members. There was catchy music booming away, balloons, a fire-engine spraying water to cool down the runners, tooting and cheers as the runners swept past the welcoming contingents. KH has sharp eyes, no small wonder for an ex-fighter pilot. He spotted us among the crowds, stopped for just that significant moment to plant a kiss on his dear wife, picked up his pace, and disappeared among the waves of runners. 

While waiting for the finish, A and I pottered around at Potsdamer Platz. This was "pulverized by the war and forced into hibernation by the Berlin Wall ", only to emerge after 20 years of reconstruction as a mecca of commercialism. It is a charming place, graced by the Sony Center designed by Helmut Jahn, and peppered with cafes, bars and restaurants.

Outside Potsdamer Platz, it was a festive setup with tents offering souvenir items for the race, loudspeakers transmitting music you want to jive to and crowds lining the roads to encourage the runners along their journey. There was a mixed bag of runners - mainly Europeans, with a sprinkling of Asians; young and not-so-young, but fighting fit. What happens to the injured and not-so-fit, I wondered. They would all be bundled up by vehicles after a certain cut-off time, deprived of their coveted medallions for not completing the race. Life's not fair to some.

The Man of the moment returned with a good time of 4:25:40. Mission Accomplished. Gathering points were set up in alphabetical order for easy meet-ups. He found us comfortably huddled under a tree with a prominent "L" sign, watching the world go by. There was a husband, full of anticipation, leaning against a bike with a placard " Fan Club" attached to it. We saw the object of his affection, lean, fit, without a spare ounce of body fat, returning to hugs and kisses from her ardent admirer and teenage children. There were youths, the young and vibrant, the mid-lifers, and the grand-parents. I couldn't help fantasizing what a delight it would be for my husband and kids to form a welcoming committee for the champion returning - but this was very soon replaced by reality. NOW, if only there is such a marathon just for finishers with rest periods, picnic spots, and no regard for timing....

Back at the hotel, I was able to make myself useful by applying my sports massage training in some remote past, to rub down our hero's weary legs and tight muscles. He bounced back quickly and made good recovery. Later in the afternoon, we visited parts of the Berlin Wall and Check-Point Charlie. At the end of the day, I was the one limping with all the walking, standing, and climbing of stairs at the subway stations. In the old days, everyone had to be fit enough to climb steps ( the not so able bodied were disposed of in droves  during a certain dark period in history ) and there was nary an escalator or elevator.

A Special Sunday Encounter

While waiting for A at my hotel on Marathon Sunday, ( she was happily distracted by a last-minute tour in English at the Reinstag - German Parliament Building ) I was channel surfing and lo and behold, it was Pastor Prince preaching. That was a personal message just for me, sent down from Above.  After this interlude, I could not locate that particular channel again.

The War, the Wall and the Writings

The atrocities of the Cold War were played out in the construction of the Berlin Wall in 1961. It split the city effectively into East and West, separating hundreds of thousands of families and lovers for more than 30 years. People in the eastern part of Berlin were persecuted, abducted, imprisoned, tortured, and many others paid with their lives for that one shot of freedom to cross over to the other side, succumbing to shoot-to-kill orders.

Checkpoint Charlie was the only crossing the Allies were permitted to use to move around the city. At this infamous border crossing, the world was within an inch of the third world - and first atomic - war when US ambassador Allan Lightner innocuously wished to pass through it with his wife to attend the opera in East Berlin. Contrary to conventions agreed with the Allies, ( which allows allied personal belonging to all four powers to pass freely and without controls through the sector border ) border police demanded for his ID. This led to a face-off and in no time, US artillery and Russian tanks were engaged in position, ready to strike. The world held its breath, while the bubble of GDR "sovereignty" burst, in the revelation that it was no more than a puppet on a Soviet string. ( The British, French and American zones of occupation were amalgamated to form the Federal Republic of Germany ( May 1949 ) while the Soviets launched the German Democratic Republic 

On 9 November 1989, the world again held its breadth as history is rewritten once more with the fall of the Wall and Berlin is reunified.

Berlin Today

Next to Paris and London, Berlin is the most frequently visited city in Europe. It is a city that grows on you, with every passing day.  At the end of four days in Berlin, I was totally bowled over by its integration of the old with the new, the almost flawless public transport system, the impact of its modern architecture, where creative juices are oozing at an unprecedented scale, the delightful cafes and marketplaces, and the perpetual buzz of street activity in every corner. 

There is even a Casino Royale ( Daniel Craig was here! ) for  the irrepressible.

The Berliners are mostly polite and willing to offer help when asked. What tickles me is their proud bearing - they sit, stand and walk upright all the time, proper, conscientious and austere in their approach to life. I am tempted to be irreverent, loud , and cheeky just to ruffle a few feathers.

Once, during lunch at the German History Museum Cafe, we were waited upon by a humorous waiter. He was most indignant that I did not order a beer, but had asked for an empty glass instead. He insisted that I at least order a glass of shandy if not beer and said that he called the shots there, haha. I responded in a small voice that I was the customer ...In the end, he returned with one large mug for KH, one glass for A, and an empty glass for me. He kept me sufficiently entertained with his jokes, and his comic mockery of other customers, while I chewed on dessert alone, and the lovey, dovey couple continued with their tour of the museum. Upon picking up the check, I remarked that he truly enjoyed his job. He grinned and said that there are actually funny Germans around. I told him that he was the first one I'd met.

At another dinner, A and I decided to share a 3-course set dinner. Oops, sharing is quite unheard of here. At the risk of messing up their table creation, the waitress painstakingly divided the portions into two, with a level of care and artistry unmatched. Talk about guilty pleasures - literally. I wonder if there would be an induced heart attack if I'd asked for a doggie bag...

We had two absolutely wonderful meals at Bocca di Bacco along Friedrichstrasse, near the  Westin Grand Hotel, where the Lohs were staying. They had exceptionally good  servings of pasta and antipasti. Only later did we realise that we had stumbled upon Berlin's hippiest Italian restaurant.

Let's drink to that.  Ein Bier bitte, and bottoms up. Cheers!