Tag: Patrick
Sights of Berlin
Sophie works a digital forklift at the Communications Museum

A hot air balloon displaying the logo of Die Welt hovers in the sky over Berlin – photo by David

Have cello, will travel – snapped by Davey

A large public area at Potsdamer Platz. This part of Berlin was once truncated by the Wall, which the East German Government called the Anti-Fascism Protection Wall. The West referred to it as the Wall of Shame. Consequently this area was once a barren wasteland of concrete, barbed wire and guard towers. Look at it now!

A memorial to the books burned by the Nazis in 1933 – at the Story of Berlin exhibition in Kurfürstendamm
…dort wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man auch am Ende Menschen.
- – Heinrich Heine in 1820
- (Wherever books are burnt, people will eventually be burnt too.)

Bombs dropped on Berlin in WW2 – at the Allies Museum

Patrick with a Trabi at the Story of Berlin – East Germans had to wait about 13 years for one of these moving boxes. Meanwhile the elite party members got to swan around in Volvos.

A painting of the famous picture of the East German soldier who leapt over barbed wire to escape to the West – also at the Story of Berlin

The giraffe at the entrance to Lego Discovery Land

The traffic lights man (Ampelmann) is now an app. My top score so far is only 120. If you score well enough the little guy gets to meet up with Ampelfrau and have little Ampelkinder…I may be exaggerating slightly. At any rate, this charming East German design has spawned a chain of merchandise and even has its own shops. I find this wonderfully ironic. But the app is free.

The view from our room in Hotel-Pension Bregenz, Bregenzer Strasse

The Television Tower was built by the East German government and is still the tallest building in Germany. When the sun shines on it, it reflects a cross, as shown in Davey’s photo above. Since the East German regime frowned on and suppressed religious belief, this reflection was a cause of great amusement. The tower was nicknamed “The Pope’s Revenge”. Some also referred to it as “Ulbricht’s Last Erection”. Ulbricht was the weasel who famously lied: “No one has any intention of building a wall.”

A modern German version of a rickshaw – near the Brandenburg Gate

Part of the display at the Historical Museum, showing how German refugees in the last years of WW2 and in the post-war years loaded their possessions onto small hand carts and set off to find a new home

The evening scene at a Greek restaurant near our hotel – the managers had placed televisions out on the pavement, at each end of the eating area, so that people could watch the soccer while they ate.
Words of history above the escalator leading to the Brandenburger Tor U-Bahn:
Weasel words by Ulbricht:
- “No one has any intention of building a wall.”
Strong words by Willy Brandt to the East German officials and soldiers controlling the border zone:
- “Do not shoot at your own people.”
The Mountain Stage
Bleckede to Tiessau

Sign summarizing our ride
“That mountain stage really knocked us around,” said Barry.
We were eating breakfast at “La Maison de la Marionette” in Tiessau, a tiny village just 6 kilometres out of Hitzacker. Barry sounded like the manager of an elite group of cyclists who had just struggled to the peak of Alp d’Huez in some gruelling battle of will.
Unfortunately we didn’t feel elite at all. Especially two days before, when we had missed the riverbank path and had instead ridden through some gentle, undulating hills. They weren’t really mountains at all. But when you are not an elite athlete, even a hill feels like a mountain.

Through the forest
Barry was nursing his back and consequently climbed off his bike to walk up some hills.
I was nursing my whole body, so I walked up even more hills.
Sophie didn’t even notice the hills. She developed a habit of ringing her bell as she swept past me. Davey said she looked as though she was dancing on her pedals.
Fortified by his years of wearing lycra all over the place in Surrey Hills, Davey stayed resolutely on his bike, regardless of the gradient.
Patrick was at the front for the whole time. Although the hills (or as I prefer to call them, mountains) caused him no pain, he noticed them enough to say:
“So, Mum, are there any more mountains along this flat river bank?”
I hope not, Patrick, I really do.

Breakfast at Bleckede, with a little thermos for the…

Breakfast at Maison de la Marionette in Tiessau – photo by Barry

Out and about in Hitzacker

Barry riding home from Hitzacker to Tiessau in the twilight













