Travelogue 1993 / Episode Eight

Travelogue Deutschland 1993 / Episode Eight

Last Day in Berlin
The plan for the last day in the city was to visit to the Berlin flea market. Our time there was limited because by twelve noon, we wanted to be on the Autobahn heading towards Czechoslovakia.

The flea market was bustling with people when we arrived. I was amazed at the amount and variety of merchandise being sold. The market consisted of two parallel walkways with booths lining either side them. It extended for several blocks, occasionally crossing intersecting streets along the way. When we reached the last block, we entered the artists market, which was filled with paintings, photographs and jewelry for sale. Interestingly, the art portion of the market reminded me of Milwaukees annual Lakefront Festival of the Arts.

Several vendors scattered throughout the flea market were selling East German military items, including old uniforms, helmets, patches, and other odd things. As Martin and I passed one of these displays, I overheard a German man behind us say Id like to take all of this East German garbage and burn it in front of everyone! It was pretty clear that he wasnt at all happy about the items, let alone the sale of them. Im not sure if he influenced me or not, but I chose not to buy any East German military items on my trip.

Several booths displayed vintage books, and at one of them I found an interesting old tourguide of Berlin from the1930s. When Martin asked the seller what the price was, he replied 80 Deutsch Marks. My interest in the old book evaporated quickly.

At certain points throughout the market, vendors offered all kinds of food items. We were halfway back to the car when we took a lunch break at a food trailer, in the center of the market.

Back at the car, we examined our maps in preparation for the expedition out of Berlin. Following angular streets, it took us nearly two hours to escape the city limits. The route we chose happened to be under construction, which added some unforseen time to our trip out of Berlin.

Apartment Living in East Germany
One of the more vivid images from my travels came as we followed the small highway leading to the Autobahn. On the horizon several high-rise apartments stood, breaking the horizon of fields we had been driving across. These apartments were built in the old days, under East German rule.

Martin told me that large companies built giant factories employing thousands of people. To house them, the companies also constructed huge high-rise apartment complexes nearby. As we passed by them, I tried to imagine what it might be like to work at the factory and live in a cubicle in one of the towering complexes.

We continued on across the countryside until we reached the Autobahn. At a rest stop nearly one hundred kilometers from the Czechoslovakian border, we were faced with a difficult decision. Martin realized that he had inadvertently forgotten his green card which provides proof of insurance in Eastern European countries like Czechoslovakia. Without a green card, the risk of serious trouble, like jail, would increase dramatically in the event of any accidents.

We discussed our options, which included taking our chances in Prague without the card or skipping Prague altogether and staying in Germany. I felt extremely uncomfortable taking risks in a foreign country, especially one in which the people might not even understand Martin. After some discussion, we came to a decision. We would skip Czechoslovakia and stay in Germany. I felt much better in one sense, though I knew that missing Pragues famous architecture would probably haunt me later.

Because of the decision to stay in Germany, we were forced to find a youth hostel close enough to reach by seven oclock. Hostels begin accepting guests at Seven and fill quickly on weekends, so our best chance at finding a hostel on such short notice lay in Dresden, one of Eastern Germanys largest cities.

The Dresden Experience
We arrived in Dresden around six-thirty, as a light rain began to fall. The city seemed like any other, until we came closer to the center of town. Dresden was filled with beautiful old buildings, and the closer we came to the center, the more we wanted to explore the city. First on our agenda would have to be finding a pace for the night.

Our hostel guidebook gave an addresses but since we had no map, we had no idea where to begin looking. Stopping at the opera house near the center of town, Martin and I walked to a souvenir trailer, operated by an older gentleman and his wife. Both of them took turns giving Martin directions to the hostel. It wasnt until we began driving that I realized the directions must have been the turn left here and make a right at the fire hydrant variety, since Martin kept asking me where to turn next.

We found the hostel around seven, hidden in an old neighborhood lined with large stately houses. I guessed that they might have been built between the eighteenth and nineteenth century, since each had beautiful victorian details. Once inside the old house turned hostel, we discovered that it was full for the night. Our guidebook listed another hostel in a small city outside of town, but calls to its phone went unanswered. The situation did not look promising.

After some discussion we realized that would have to sleep in the car. I was not excited about the idea but had little choice, since a hotel room could start at 80 Deutsch Marks if we were even fortunate enough to find one this late on a Saturday night. Unfortunately there were no Motel Sixes keeping the lights on for us in Dresden. Making the best of a difficult situation, we parked the car near the opera house determined to at least enjoy exploring the city.

Dresden was one of the most beautiful places that I had the opportunity to visit on my trip. The city had been a cultural center of Germany until it was bombed in World War Two. While Martin received direction, I noticed several postcards had photos of the devastation and I wondered how any building remained. A majority of the buildings had been restored, although one site across from the opera house was still a pile of rubble. Only traces of supports still stood upright, remnants of a once beautiful structure.

The most interesting of all of the buildings there was the Electors Palace. Almost by accident we walked through an archway, which opened onto a massive courtyard divided into quadrants. As we faced the main palace building I noticed that in each quadrant stood ornate stone water fountains. The walkways were ground red stone that crunched beneath our feet as we made our way to the main palace building. We climbed the curved stairway at the main building leading up to the second level, and looked out between two of the many stone cherubim that lined the walls surrounding the courtyard.

After a few minutes there, we walked down the back stairs of the palace and found a dimly lit park area. A water filled channel curved around the corner of the castle. Following the pathway along the channel, we came around to the western side of the courtyard.

The surface of the rippling waters glistened from the light of fixtures positioned towards the castle walls. In the center of the castle wall stood an opening and a bridge, possibly once a drawbridge, leading into the castle. We crossed the bridge into the palace, walking through the courtyard one last time before passing through the same arch we had entered through.

We wandered around the Dresden, past old and new buildings, stopping for half an hour at a McDonalds. The look of the place was mostly McDonadesque with several German specific features, including separate trash receptacles for plastic, paper and organic materials, since the Germans are very environmentally-minded.

I ordered a five dollar dinner consisting of a quarter pounder, coke and fries. Though more expensive, the food tasted very much like the food back home, which isnt saying much. The predominant patrons were high school kids, which seemed to be using McDonalds as a kind of hang out, much like American kids do. I wondered where they earned the money to eat there. Once we had finished, we returned to the car, and began our search for a place to hide the car and sleep the night.

Motel Opel
Pirna was a strange town on the Eastern outskirts of Dresden. From my estimates it consisted of a giant factory on the left side of the road, defined by flashing lights on smokestacks and some white lights that seemed to be miles away in the darkness. On the right side of the road, block after block of old, simple houses stood facing the dark, mysterious factory.

We found a secluded spot just outside Pirna, and pulled the sleeping bags out of the trunk. With the seats cranked all the way back and the doors locked, we climbed inside of our warm sleeping bags and faded off to an uneasy sleep in the Motel Opel.

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