Friday, December 25, 2015
Thursday, December 24, 2015
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Oberbaumbrucke and the Ost Hafen
Since we spend so much time at Warschauer Strasse in Friederichshain (where work is), I decided to do a post about the area. Imagine that.
The Razorfish office sits on the East Berlin side of the Wall border. The longest stretch of remaining Wall fortifications sits a block away. The subway train bridge crosses over the Wall, providing the unique sense that you are crossing over the border to go to work. It helps with a little imagination, which I have a lot of. Right next to the RF offices is another city landmark, the Oberbaumbrucke.
The bridge name "Oberbaumbrucke" translates to "Over the Tree Bridge." In the days when merchants came up the river to sell things in the city, they had to pay a toll at the bridge. At night the tolls were not collected so to prevent people from slipping through, a large tree trunk with huge spikes driven through it was suspended from the bridge over the toll gate to form a barrier.
It is one of the most famous bridges in the city and frequently appears in the background of Berlin publicity shots, movie sets, and countless tourist selfies.
Here is a side-by-side looking at the bridge in the mid-80s. US Amy jeeps patrol the Western side of the Spree border strip with the bridge in the background. Over the soldier's left shoulder is one of the pedestals on the bridge:
Same location, today:
Wider angle shot, with turrets on bridge now visible. On left across the Spree is the East Side Gallery, the longest remaining section of the Wall:
The Razorfish office is the peaked building in picture center, behind the bridge. Also in center is vertical gray border control guard tower. This picture is from the 80's when no money had been allocated to restoring the bridge (which did not happen until 1993) so the pedestals just had weeds growing where the turrets now stand:
The Razorfish office is contained in the Ost Hafen Speichern, which means the Eastern Port storage facility. Barge traffic since the early days of the city stopped here to unload goods, which prompted the construction of huge warehouses along this part of the river. The same thing exists on the other side of the city where the Spree and Havel rivers come in. "Our" building apparently was the prime transit point for eggs into the DDR, as in all eggs that were consumed in the planned East German economy came through our building at one point. We're on the 4th and 5th floor on the left side of the building.
Picture taken from the Oberbaumbrucke looking East to the port and the current Razorfish building.
Earlier, the area saw intense fighting at the Soviets closed on the city from the East at the end of WWII. Many of the warehouses were destroyed and they became cleared lots and railroad transfer points for the DDR. Today a couple schwank hotels have been built on top of the old railroad lines along the port in the empty lots where nothing was built after the war rubble got cleared away.
In a nod to history, when they redid the bank "promenade" in front of the office (pulling up the rail lines that ran alongside the barge docks) they put down a design that mimics the path of the old lines:
And some of the lots are still empty, specifically the ones down towards the Elsenbrucke at the far end of the above shot:
This is a former railroad grade that angles down into a now blocked-off tunnel underneath the train and road bridges at the Eastern end of the Hafen. They took the pains to pull up the track but then nothing happened with the lot so it reverts back to nature. And used spray paint cans.
The former East Berlin, Friederichshain area: crumbling pieces of warehouses spray painted on empty lots with block apartments in the distance. Apartments that are now getting refurbished and commanding high prices, forcing the spray painters to now travel longer distances in to make their marks.
The Razorfish office sits on the East Berlin side of the Wall border. The longest stretch of remaining Wall fortifications sits a block away. The subway train bridge crosses over the Wall, providing the unique sense that you are crossing over the border to go to work. It helps with a little imagination, which I have a lot of. Right next to the RF offices is another city landmark, the Oberbaumbrucke.
The bridge name "Oberbaumbrucke" translates to "Over the Tree Bridge." In the days when merchants came up the river to sell things in the city, they had to pay a toll at the bridge. At night the tolls were not collected so to prevent people from slipping through, a large tree trunk with huge spikes driven through it was suspended from the bridge over the toll gate to form a barrier.
It is one of the most famous bridges in the city and frequently appears in the background of Berlin publicity shots, movie sets, and countless tourist selfies.
Here is a side-by-side looking at the bridge in the mid-80s. US Amy jeeps patrol the Western side of the Spree border strip with the bridge in the background. Over the soldier's left shoulder is one of the pedestals on the bridge:
Same location, today:
Wider angle shot, with turrets on bridge now visible. On left across the Spree is the East Side Gallery, the longest remaining section of the Wall:
The Razorfish office is the peaked building in picture center, behind the bridge. Also in center is vertical gray border control guard tower. This picture is from the 80's when no money had been allocated to restoring the bridge (which did not happen until 1993) so the pedestals just had weeds growing where the turrets now stand:
The Razorfish office is contained in the Ost Hafen Speichern, which means the Eastern Port storage facility. Barge traffic since the early days of the city stopped here to unload goods, which prompted the construction of huge warehouses along this part of the river. The same thing exists on the other side of the city where the Spree and Havel rivers come in. "Our" building apparently was the prime transit point for eggs into the DDR, as in all eggs that were consumed in the planned East German economy came through our building at one point. We're on the 4th and 5th floor on the left side of the building.
Picture taken from the Oberbaumbrucke looking East to the port and the current Razorfish building.
Earlier, the area saw intense fighting at the Soviets closed on the city from the East at the end of WWII. Many of the warehouses were destroyed and they became cleared lots and railroad transfer points for the DDR. Today a couple schwank hotels have been built on top of the old railroad lines along the port in the empty lots where nothing was built after the war rubble got cleared away.
And some of the lots are still empty, specifically the ones down towards the Elsenbrucke at the far end of the above shot:
This is a former railroad grade that angles down into a now blocked-off tunnel underneath the train and road bridges at the Eastern end of the Hafen. They took the pains to pull up the track but then nothing happened with the lot so it reverts back to nature. And used spray paint cans.
The former East Berlin, Friederichshain area: crumbling pieces of warehouses spray painted on empty lots with block apartments in the distance. Apartments that are now getting refurbished and commanding high prices, forcing the spray painters to now travel longer distances in to make their marks.
Monday, December 21, 2015
Cody's Bike Trials
Cody recently made the jump from strider bike to pedal bike, which was cause for great joy and merriment among the family. Family bike trips together now suddenly appeared on the horizon as an option, albeit in a very dim and fuzzy way. This is progress. But on Sunday this took a dramatic step backwards when Cassandra very nearly threw Cody and his bike into the river.
What happened? Blame it on Putin and Russian airstrikes on little-known Damascus suburbs held by rebels. These actions have created a steady stream of refugees heading to Europe, many of whom end up in Germany. In an effort to help out these displaced people, we gathered up a bag of toys and went shopping for some items that were listed as being needed with the idea that we'd take them by bike to the nearest Syria refugee center. We found one in nearby Wilmersdorf and got everyone ready for a Sunday bike ride.
We gave Cody the option of riding with us or riding in the bike seat. He opted to ride in the bike seat and to bring the bike along as he wanted to ride it later. Seat was secured on Daddy's bike, Cody's bike hanging off the back. Highly unstable but workable. We ride to the refugee center and drop off our stuff, then all four of us mount up and start down the sidewalk to get to a park we had seen on the way over.
Cody is hesitant and obliges us, but he is not as excited about biking now. We go a block and he is lagging. He's quite capable of keeping up at the speed we had, but he is exercising control and boundary-testing operations, so he dawdles along slowly, whimpering softly. When it is obvious no one is responding to the whimpering, the volume steadily cranks up.
We are bummed that he doesn't take to this like he should, which is basically to be Eddie Merckx from day one. But we don't want to give in to the whimpering, since it will soon turn into a full-on whine. It is brinkmanship at its finest. Together we cross a street and continue into a big park, trying to egg him on. Berlin is flat flat flat, so there is almost no terrain reason he could rally around in any protest.
Being rational adults we reason that we brought his bike so he could ride it. If there was no interest in riding it, why did he require us to bring it? We are in a park. There is a nice path. It coincides with the larger family vision of being outdoorsy bike-riding people. HE WILL RIDE THIS BIKE.
We continue and the whining escalates into screams.
This seems to take forever, as it always does when you are listening to your child screaming. We've taken several loud minutes to go 30 feet on a flat path. The game continues. Cassandra and Jasper eventually ride off. Screaming spikes in volume. He's still pedaling, but clearly is expending most of his energy on crying. Also, he has found a stick that he is holding in one hand, which also makes it difficult to steer. Dropping the prized stick is suggested, but the very idea is fuel for more emotion.
I think about parenting stories I have heard. Things like when a child is found smoking one of daddy's cigars, the kid is locked in the closet with instructions not to come out until he's smoked all the cigars in the box. Possibly these are urban legends, but you do wonder what the long term effects would be of "tough love" on a tantruming 4 year old. Will riding 50 yards down the path and stopping compel him to shut up and ride or will it scar him forever, the site of all family disappearing into the distance? I ride down the path opting to gamble on this.
Cody does not like this approach much either, and increases the volume. Pedalling slowly, weaving back and forth. Other park users are staring at the drama. German kids do not behave in this manner. What on earth could be wrong with this child, they are thinking. They are also staring at us with eyes that confirm our failures as parents.
We finally stop at a road and wait for the screamfest to arrive. Cody finally closes to within 20 feet of us where the path makes a gentle uphill grade to the crosswalk. Faced with this Everest of an obstacle he stops and howls. Bike falls over. Cassandra cannot listen to any more and begins a very public scolding.
"Why did you want to bring you bike if this is what happens? Should we just leave it here for another kid? Maybe we should take it back and give it to the refugee kids! Maybe I'll throw it in the river!"
Cody whimpers about how he is not super excited about the whole biking thing. In between sobs he allows that he "only really wants candy and iPad movies."
We tell him that is not possible. We decide to cut the ride short and adjourn to a Mexican restaurant and order margarita (Cassandra) and a half liter of beer (Jay).
What happened? Blame it on Putin and Russian airstrikes on little-known Damascus suburbs held by rebels. These actions have created a steady stream of refugees heading to Europe, many of whom end up in Germany. In an effort to help out these displaced people, we gathered up a bag of toys and went shopping for some items that were listed as being needed with the idea that we'd take them by bike to the nearest Syria refugee center. We found one in nearby Wilmersdorf and got everyone ready for a Sunday bike ride.
We gave Cody the option of riding with us or riding in the bike seat. He opted to ride in the bike seat and to bring the bike along as he wanted to ride it later. Seat was secured on Daddy's bike, Cody's bike hanging off the back. Highly unstable but workable. We ride to the refugee center and drop off our stuff, then all four of us mount up and start down the sidewalk to get to a park we had seen on the way over.
Cody is hesitant and obliges us, but he is not as excited about biking now. We go a block and he is lagging. He's quite capable of keeping up at the speed we had, but he is exercising control and boundary-testing operations, so he dawdles along slowly, whimpering softly. When it is obvious no one is responding to the whimpering, the volume steadily cranks up.
We are bummed that he doesn't take to this like he should, which is basically to be Eddie Merckx from day one. But we don't want to give in to the whimpering, since it will soon turn into a full-on whine. It is brinkmanship at its finest. Together we cross a street and continue into a big park, trying to egg him on. Berlin is flat flat flat, so there is almost no terrain reason he could rally around in any protest.
Being rational adults we reason that we brought his bike so he could ride it. If there was no interest in riding it, why did he require us to bring it? We are in a park. There is a nice path. It coincides with the larger family vision of being outdoorsy bike-riding people. HE WILL RIDE THIS BIKE.
We continue and the whining escalates into screams.
This seems to take forever, as it always does when you are listening to your child screaming. We've taken several loud minutes to go 30 feet on a flat path. The game continues. Cassandra and Jasper eventually ride off. Screaming spikes in volume. He's still pedaling, but clearly is expending most of his energy on crying. Also, he has found a stick that he is holding in one hand, which also makes it difficult to steer. Dropping the prized stick is suggested, but the very idea is fuel for more emotion.
I think about parenting stories I have heard. Things like when a child is found smoking one of daddy's cigars, the kid is locked in the closet with instructions not to come out until he's smoked all the cigars in the box. Possibly these are urban legends, but you do wonder what the long term effects would be of "tough love" on a tantruming 4 year old. Will riding 50 yards down the path and stopping compel him to shut up and ride or will it scar him forever, the site of all family disappearing into the distance? I ride down the path opting to gamble on this.
Cody does not like this approach much either, and increases the volume. Pedalling slowly, weaving back and forth. Other park users are staring at the drama. German kids do not behave in this manner. What on earth could be wrong with this child, they are thinking. They are also staring at us with eyes that confirm our failures as parents.
We finally stop at a road and wait for the screamfest to arrive. Cody finally closes to within 20 feet of us where the path makes a gentle uphill grade to the crosswalk. Faced with this Everest of an obstacle he stops and howls. Bike falls over. Cassandra cannot listen to any more and begins a very public scolding.
"Why did you want to bring you bike if this is what happens? Should we just leave it here for another kid? Maybe we should take it back and give it to the refugee kids! Maybe I'll throw it in the river!"
Cody whimpers about how he is not super excited about the whole biking thing. In between sobs he allows that he "only really wants candy and iPad movies."
We tell him that is not possible. We decide to cut the ride short and adjourn to a Mexican restaurant and order margarita (Cassandra) and a half liter of beer (Jay).
Saturday, December 19, 2015
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
RF Christmas Party 2015
Agency Holiday Party: 2015
Down a slim break in the continuous apt block facades that crowd the length of Griefswalder Strasse in Berlin's Prenzlauer Berg neighborhood, a small road leads you to a wide lot on top of a small rise. Some old brick walls line the lots' borders, while temp construction fencing wanders aimlessly around the dust. In the middle of the expanse is a large brick building, clearly a factory of some type. Most of the third floor is reduced by either a fire or a bombing raid to a skeleton of brick chimneys and blown-out windows.
The RF holiday party is supposed to be here, and from the outside it is dead silent. There are lighting effects on the exterior brickwork, highlighting the rough facades in red and blue beams from a low angle, so someone is actually doing something here. We are directed to a basement staircase by a security guy standing next to a pile of stones and weeds.
We're now in the cellar of the old Schneider Brewery. We pass through massive subterranean rooms lit by inconsistently-placed incandescent bulbs. In one spot, a 1950's era operating table, surgical lights and nurse's cabinet sits in a corner. In another direction, we spot recently-renovated bathrooms with infrared signal self-flush eco toilets. Quite emblematic of modern Berlin: spotless creature comforts attractively arranged within very raw, historical and atmospheric surroundings.
We come to the base of a tight spiral staircase. A half-open large iron door rusts on massive hinges and hides a dark corridor behind it. We start up the stairs and can now hear dim strains of music and voices. Around and around, passing other similar rusted monolithic doors on sliding rails on evey landing. Eventually we arrive at the event room, one of the main brewery work areas. 40' ceilings, beams, and exposed ancient brick everywhere. Three long tables split the room, upon which sit candles. There's some ambient indirect lighting in the corners to accent the brick patterns in the walls, but otherwise a low-lit, medieval feel to the place.
Agency people running around in snazzy dresses and makeup, or beards and black suits. Dinner follows, then the Year in Review speech by CEO Sascha Martini, then the evening devolves into beats and dancing. This dancing part goes until 3 or 4 in the morning, when people get tired of the place and leave to find another one they can hang at until breakfast.
Cassandra went home to relieve the babysitter and I stayed later just to make sure I didn't miss anything. For the most part, these late night parties are loud and smoky but one of our mottos with this is not to miss anything. So I stayed around making sure I didn't miss anything, then took a long walk back to Alexanderplatz and caught the S-Bahn home.
This provided another interesting Berlin observation: At 2 in the morning the trains are just as crowded as they are at rush hour. And it isn't all just young party kids. You've got the whole spectrum covered: grandparents coming back from the show, business guys in suits, professor-looking types with white beards and glasses quietly reading Bertolt Brecht novels. It seems that people here also take on this "don't miss anything" idea.
Down a slim break in the continuous apt block facades that crowd the length of Griefswalder Strasse in Berlin's Prenzlauer Berg neighborhood, a small road leads you to a wide lot on top of a small rise. Some old brick walls line the lots' borders, while temp construction fencing wanders aimlessly around the dust. In the middle of the expanse is a large brick building, clearly a factory of some type. Most of the third floor is reduced by either a fire or a bombing raid to a skeleton of brick chimneys and blown-out windows.
The RF holiday party is supposed to be here, and from the outside it is dead silent. There are lighting effects on the exterior brickwork, highlighting the rough facades in red and blue beams from a low angle, so someone is actually doing something here. We are directed to a basement staircase by a security guy standing next to a pile of stones and weeds.
We're now in the cellar of the old Schneider Brewery. We pass through massive subterranean rooms lit by inconsistently-placed incandescent bulbs. In one spot, a 1950's era operating table, surgical lights and nurse's cabinet sits in a corner. In another direction, we spot recently-renovated bathrooms with infrared signal self-flush eco toilets. Quite emblematic of modern Berlin: spotless creature comforts attractively arranged within very raw, historical and atmospheric surroundings.
We come to the base of a tight spiral staircase. A half-open large iron door rusts on massive hinges and hides a dark corridor behind it. We start up the stairs and can now hear dim strains of music and voices. Around and around, passing other similar rusted monolithic doors on sliding rails on evey landing. Eventually we arrive at the event room, one of the main brewery work areas. 40' ceilings, beams, and exposed ancient brick everywhere. Three long tables split the room, upon which sit candles. There's some ambient indirect lighting in the corners to accent the brick patterns in the walls, but otherwise a low-lit, medieval feel to the place.
Agency people running around in snazzy dresses and makeup, or beards and black suits. Dinner follows, then the Year in Review speech by CEO Sascha Martini, then the evening devolves into beats and dancing. This dancing part goes until 3 or 4 in the morning, when people get tired of the place and leave to find another one they can hang at until breakfast.
Cassandra went home to relieve the babysitter and I stayed later just to make sure I didn't miss anything. For the most part, these late night parties are loud and smoky but one of our mottos with this is not to miss anything. So I stayed around making sure I didn't miss anything, then took a long walk back to Alexanderplatz and caught the S-Bahn home.
This provided another interesting Berlin observation: At 2 in the morning the trains are just as crowded as they are at rush hour. And it isn't all just young party kids. You've got the whole spectrum covered: grandparents coming back from the show, business guys in suits, professor-looking types with white beards and glasses quietly reading Bertolt Brecht novels. It seems that people here also take on this "don't miss anything" idea.
Thursday, December 10, 2015
Christkindlesmarkt Greetings from Nurnberg.
Nurnberg presents the Christmas Market in all its holiday glory. We took the high speed ICE train down on a Thursday and returned on Saturday afternoon to give ourselves a couple days to wallow in the scene.
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| Cody needs some Gluhwein before getting on the two storey carousel. |
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| Oh yes we did. |
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| From the Castle wall, overlooking the city. |
Nurnberg, due to its importance as a Nazi center as well as its central location for rail linkages, was bombed gratuitously during the war. In the Castle tower we can do some before and afters:
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| Gingerbread awesomeness. |
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| See you next year! |
Monday, December 7, 2015
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
The German Christmas Market Experience
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| Weihnachtsmarkt apple testing. |
Thankfully, Germans go bananas for Christmas.
In fact the whole Christmas Tree concept started here. One of the more atmospheric embodiments of the Christmas holiday in German-speaking Europe is the venerated "Weihnachtsmarkt" or Christmas Market. This is the cold-weather take on the traditional neighborhood markets and must be accompanied by lots of holly and fir bough adornments, twinkling lights, a large Christmas tree and, ideally, a light dusting of snowfall.
Month-long vendor stalls are set up and visitors amble up and down the rows of closely-packed outdoor "shops" while the scent of mulled wine "Gluhwein" and gingerbread and stolle bread hang in the air. Admittedly, these are prettier at night, when the Christmas lights along the roofs of the wooden stalls and snow crunching underfoot makes you think that you are stepping into a holiday storefront display. Most of these markets take place between November 23 and December 25.
The entire concept gets more intense the further South you go and achieves its full expression in German Bavaria and Austrian Tirol. The Vienna Weihnachtsmarkt is reputed to be the most beautiful and exciting. However even in immigrant & expat-heavy Berlin we still find many Weinachtsmarkt options.
I'm fascinated by the concept. Since spending a summer in Austria in college, I've wanted to come back and experience one of these Weihnachtsmarkts. The trouble was, there isn't much reason to launch a European trip between Thanksgiving and Christmas when living in the States so I had gradually started to accept that this is something I'd only know through books.
And then, this job came through. One more reason for being thankful! So now I will have the chance to overdose on Christmas Markets with my family. I shall walk arm in arm with my Frau, sipping spiced wine, taking in the handmade goods offered by cheerful shopkeepers while the children scamper to and fro dazzled by the lights, sounds and smells of this new Boynton holiday tradition. Years from now the kids will look back fondly on their memories of German Christmas markets!
This idea, like many of the best-laid plans, did not survive its first contact with reality. So how did our first Weihnachtmarkt unfold?
Last weekend we visited the markt at the Charlottenburg Schloss (palace) in city west. We took our trusty U7 to Richard Wagner Platz and then a city bus two stops to the Palace grounds.
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| This is prior to the cold foot meltdown. |
Charlottenburg Schloss was built in 1699 and functioned as the royal residence for the Prussian kings of the Hohenzollern line, which ruled up until the dismantling of the monarchy after Germany's defeat in WWI. The grounds directly in front of the main entrance are transformed into a Weihnachtsmarkt featuring the long rows of wooden "stalls" selling artesenal goods and Gluhwein. In between the rows of stalls are counters with little roofs over them where people gather to sip their drinks and chat. At one end a small children's play area sits with sensible-sized merry-go-rounds and a small train.
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| A wonderful, GDR-era merry go round that was extremely creaky. |
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| The Feuerwehr Truck! |
You do have to hand it to Germans, who will come out on a sleety day just to stand outside and drink spiced wine underneath freezy-dripping overhangs in order to enjoy their Christmas spirit.
It was snowing when we arrived around noon, which is just what I was hoping for, although the ground was still too warm and it mostly just melted. The temperature hovered around freezing for the three hours we spent there so we enjoyed a bit of a light rain/sleet combination. Heated enclosures provided some warmth and another long row of merchant tables to wander by. Importantly, there was a bathroom at one end. However you pay a Euro to go to the bathroom here, proving yet again that simply relieving yourself outside of the home in Germany is kind of an executive privilege.
Walkways between vendor stands were wood-chipped, but lots of it was still slightly muddy and puddle-filled. Cody's feet became wet and once he gets wet and cold you know that you are only a minute away from the screaming and whining. Both kids were quite excited about the different candy offerings at some of the huts, but in the end you can only buy children so many sweets if you want to keep your sanity. The rides went over well so that plus getting lunch in a heated tent helped bring the balance back.
In the midst of it all, I relished my Gluhwein in a warm mug like it was a priceless treasure.
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