The Berliners do a pretty good New Years... Leaving the apartment, you get a hefty dose of passive smoking – not from any cigarettes, but from the gunpowder in fireworks and crackers. Something about the 31st of December, really; popping out of the metro along with about 10 other people that afternoon, gangsters in training were shooting capguns out of windows, blowing crackers in the open and shooting flares into bushes. Outside the Jewish Museum there was three cops with machine guns (yes, the German police have machine guns casually swung over the shoulders), completely ignoring the smoky traffic hazard being created by some punks about 40 metres down the road. New Year’s Eve is coming.
New Year’s Eve and a good 2 km stretch of road surrounded by forest (the biggest toilet ever) before the Brandenburg Gate. West Side, yo. Just hanging out with 999,999 of my closest friends – this is one big party and one that expectedly draws mixed opinions. On one hand it’s the biggest New Year celebration in the world (take that New York) so clearly it has popularity going for it. But on the other it’s hard to tell just how many locals make up the million. I suppose that’d be the case in any city, really, but the “cool” types weren’t going to be seen at the Gate, especially when the programme offered a bit of Bonnie Tyler come midnight. Who needs the yuppies anyway, all we needed was a hero (holding onto a hero). Fireworks, lasers, beer and half metre bratwursts are enough to please us at any rate.
Now, before getting to perhaps the greatest moment of 2011 (I say that in a premonition-like fashion, as nothing looks like it could top what happened in the first 5 minutes of the year), I’ll mention the amateur pyros again. Where else in the world will you find locals with backpacks full of fireworks, happily going about their explosions IN FRONT OF THE CAPITAL’S HOUSE OF PARLIAMENT. Imagine the White House for a moment, a few hundred people shooting miniature rockets skyward and sideward – that would never happen. The Reichstag is technically the comparable structure for Germany (heck, they close the viewing platform in holiday season for fear of terror amongst the high density tourism...) The cops aren’t phased, the people aren’t phased, and the sky is full of pretty sparks. What’s the problem? So, there was no waiting til midnight for a fireworks show – with the kids shooting em off all night.
The Reichstag
The moment then? So in the sky the “real” fireworks show is going off following a rather surprised countdown (“blah blah blah... [checks headpiece].. oh, uh, 4, 3, 2, 1...”), Paul Potts is singing his lungs out and everything’s feeling pretty nice. The moment he’s gone though, there’s a roar, but it wasn’t for Potts departure, it was for the fact THE HOFF had appeared on stage. 21 years on from when he first performed the song for the folks here in Berlin, out came Looking For Freedom. Super-thick makeup, hip thrusting that no old man should attempt, and loads of self-appreciation made this appearance as good as ever. Possibly the only day of the year the Hoff’s not drunk – this was a pretty special surprise; one that we just may have enjoyed a little more than everyone else.
Might I just add this little bit as well: it’s part of Miniland at Berlin’s Legoland, depicting the fall of the wall and the Hoff’s iconic (yes, iconic darn it) performance atop a cherry picker. Incredible.
This is Lucy – she’s awesome. Lucy’s from an oldschool Czech cartoon in which she went on all sorts of adventures with her cat. She now appears in some of Berlin’s more popularised street art. So why is she so awesome? Well if you love cats you might beg to differ, but there’s something pretty special about looking around Lucy to see her cat hanging from a noose, pressed into a microwave or being spun in a washing machine. All around Berlin you’ll find Lucy killing her cat in very innovative ways. What’s not to love about that?
A word about Berliner Kindl Weisse. This is the beer the French decided to mix up a bit when they joined Berlin back in the day. These should not be considered beers and should be consumed under the presumption that you will get any sort of beer experience. They’re alcopops basically; raspberry, grape and “the green one” #### (formally a hallucinogenic) – and they are sickly sweet (not “siiick” nor “sweeeet”). Other than these beers there’s very little the Germans do less than great. Oh wait, these are the Frenchie’s fault.
Now we’re saying goodbye to Deutschland, and I have to say that’s a pretty hard thing to do. The Christmas season has certainly been a brilliant time to be travelling around the joint – the Christmas markets haven’t let us down at all. History is everywhere and it seems impossible that you could venture around Germany and not gain a giant historical education (especially of the 20th century). Beer – can’t get enough – gluwein and, er, Korn; and food – I’m gonna miss schnitzel the size of my head, amazing strudel, pretzels, kraut, kebabs (high Turkish population in Berlin :D), and the snags: bratwurst, bockwurst, feuerwurst, currywurst, frankenfurter, nurnberger (mm, I ate a lot of food in Germany).
Gonna miss this...
