Walls That Speak in Berlin (2017)

 

Berlin had a completely different vibe from any other city I’d visited. It was bold, a little chaotic, and full of character. It didn’t try to impress me with soft charm. Instead, it winked, handed me a currywurst, and said, “Come on, let’s walk.” And I did.

My first stop was the Brandenburg Gate. Tourists were posing like they were in a music video, waving flags and smiling at strangers. I joined in, of course. Standing there, I thought about how this one arch has witnessed empires rise, walls go up and come down, and history unfold right in front of it. A short walk away was the Reichstag Building with its glass dome. Climbing to the top gave me one of the best views of Berlin. The mix of old and new buildings felt like the city was saying, “Yes, I’ve been through a lot, but look at me now.”

Not far from there, I reached Checkpoint Charlie, one of the most famous crossing points between East and West Berlin during the Cold War. It looked almost theatrical now, with actors dressed as soldiers posing for pictures, souvenir shops selling “passport stamps,” and tourists snapping photos like it was a movie set. It was strange and fascinating at the same time. Standing there, it hit me how surreal it must have been to live in a divided city, where a single street could separate two worlds.

Then the mood shifted. At the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, the rows of gray blocks stretched out in every direction. As I walked deeper between them, they grew taller, and the sounds of the city faded away. It was quiet and heavy, a place that makes you pause and think. A few streets later, though, the city burst back into color at the East Side Gallery. The longest stretch of the Berlin Wall had been transformed into a massive outdoor gallery. Every mural had its own personality, some funny, some political, some deeply moving. I loved that Berlin didn’t erase its history; it painted over it with creativity and energy.

Of course, food played a big part in my day. I had currywurst from a street stand, messy but perfect, then followed it with a döner kebab, one of Berlin’s beloved staples. I sat on a bench, watching trams pass and people rushing by on bikes, feeling like I had slipped into the city’s everyday rhythm.

As the sun started to set, I walked to the Spree River. The light turned golden, the water reflected the sky, and the city felt softer. It wasn’t a grand or romantic view, but it was beautiful in a quiet way. I stood there for a while, smiling, realizing how Berlin had slowly grown on me.

Berlin didn’t sweep me off my feet like other cities. Instead, it surprised me, challenged me, and stayed with me. It’s a little messy, a little cool, full of stories, and impossible to forget.