The art historian who came in from the cold

Okay, the Cold War is over, the Berlin Wall has been commodified into tacky souvenir fragments of doubtful authenticity, and Checkpoint Charlie is now a great place for a photograph with your girlfriend. In the current vogue for “Ostalgie” precipitated by the 2003 film Goodbye Lenin!, I take a trip across East and West Berlin, starting wherelse but Alexanderplatz. Once a bleak void of Soviet urban planning, it is now cluttered with equally tasteless new commercial developments. Yet the Weltzeituhr and similarly futuristic Fernsehturm still stand as reminders of the 1960s DDR, as do a seated Marx and Engels by the Spree, installed exactly the same year as Margaret Thatcher’s Big Bang. Lenin, however, has long said goodbye.

My visa expires at midnight, so I head back to Charlottenberg from Friedrichstrasse U-Bahn, past the lines of Red Army guards. I start the next day with West Berlin’s cultural showcase, the Kulturforum near Potsdamer Platz. 

Past the Staatsbibliothek and Philharmonie, both built in the 1960s, to the Gemäldegalerie, a vast fine art collection brought back together in 1998 after Berlin’s reunification. Highlights include Caravaggio’s Amor Vincit Omnia, several Dürers and one of the best Rembrandt collections I have encountered anywhere. Moses with the Tablets of the Law, pictured, was especially admired by Sigmund Freud, who hung a reproduction in his Hampstead house.

Enough culture – now for some Currywurst! This dish was probably invented by occupying British soldiers in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War. It combines sausages, a German (and British) staple with a sauce made of ketchup, Worcestershire sauce and curry powder. Order yours “ohne darm”, without skin, with chips or a bread roll. Curry 36 is one of the oldest in Berlin, located in Kreuzberg by Mehringdamm U-Bahn.

Next, a nice jolly down the Unter den Linden, possibly Berlin’s most elegant thoroughfare, towards the Brandenburg Gate and Norman Foster’s Reichstag, Donald Trump protest permitting. 

A day of non-stop walking requires some relaxation, and where better than the Stadtbad Neukölln? Built in 1914, this Roman-style public bathhouse has giant order columns to spare, reminding you of what civic architecture used to mean. Somewhat off the tourist circuit, its generous spa facilities are good value and well worth a visit.

The Neukölln district, the inspiration behind a track on David Bowie’s Heroes album of 1977, has a large Turkish immigrant population. Kreuzberg is said to be the birthplace of the Döner kebab, and any excuse for one is a good excuse!

After a visit to the Schloss Charlottenberg, much of which is under construction, and a lunch of Berliner Eisbein (boiled ham hock with pease pudding, mashed potato and Sauerkraut), I dress for the opera, namely Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots at the Deutsche Oper with star tenor Juan Diego Florez as Raoul. A five-hour extravaganza loosely based on the St Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, it is often discussed – usually disparagingly – but rarely heard. Compared perhaps to Rossini’s William Tell or Verdi’s Don Carlo it is somewhat banal, yet as spectacular theatre it remains a benchmark. Numerous airs from it stand the test of time, not least “Plus blanche que la blanche Hermine”, “Piff Paff” and “Nobles seigneurs, salut!”.

Before I head back to the airport there is still time to visit the Museuminsel, or what remains that isn’t under construction. The Pergamum Museum with its dazzlingly coloured Ishtar Gate, transported brick by brick from the site of Nebuchadnezzar II’s palace in Babylon, is a must. I then climb the Berliner Dom for the best views of the city.

To quote Boris Johnson on a recent official visit, “Ich bin nicht ein Berliner” (which should have been kein) – to which I add, “bis bald”!