30 Jan - 2 Feb 2006: Berlin, Germany

San Remo Upflamör:

Rubbing against each other like people in a crowded market, the river Spree is covered with thick sheets of ice. The river does not seem to move. Sheets of ice are locked together so strongly by the freezing temperatures that even the current underneath cannot displace them. However, the water below continues to display its life flowing ever so slowly. It is night time but due to the thick cover of clouds not a star can be seen. It is only the light reflecting off sporadic street lamps or illuminated windows that casts a spark on the ice.
We are located on top of a bridge looking down, a bridge which used to mark one of the many boundaries between East and West Berlin. As we casually stroll across the bridge on this quiet and chilly night it is almost unimaginable that exactly here less than two decades ago one of the most fiercely controlled and defended border lines of this planet was located; a dividing line between two philosophies and marking the centre of the cold war; and today there is just the river Spree and both sides frozen in union by connected sheets of ice.
But such heavy thoughts are not on our minds this night as we make our way across the bridge and enter a small bar, San Remo Upflamör, a welcome escape from the cold.
I look up from the Berlin activities guide "Zitty" to contemplate the different options for the following day. Among the two pages of events Berlin has to offer on a regular weekday I pay particular attention to: the immigration exhibit in the German museum of history, an African music performance with buffet, Salsa music with instructions, the museum of photography is holding a Helmut Newton exhibit and my sister is intrigued by a Tango offering.
Two light bulbs straight ahead catch my attention, one is yellow the other one pink, both are covered by a layer of dust, which mutes their flickering impact on the eyes. As I continue to look around the room it is hard to miss a huge flower paining surrounded by an even bigger frame measuring at least 2 meters in diameter. The flower paining looks distinctly out of place much more fitting for a museum for ancient art. Then there is the menu, a collector's item as well. Each menu is handwritten, some items more legible than others. A dog to my right has been barking for at least five minutes, though his bark seems to blend in with the music, until the owner finally approaches to quite him down. The music becomes audible again: an eclectic collection of 80s rock, African drums, modern lounge and some alternative music do not seem to follow any common theme but only add to the uniqueness of the atmosphere.
Laughter around me brings my attention back to the table and we continue on with our conversation while outside the Spree continues to flow ever so slowly.

http://www.sanremo-upflamoer.de/


Die Weinerei:

The day is cold and grey, in other words a fairly typical day for German winters. Scattered ice and snow patches continue to fill the streets. Despite the unfriendly temperatures, life on the streets of Berlin continues. After a walk across the city passing innumerable cafes, boutiques, kiosks, bars, shops, Döner stands, street car stops, bakeries and an occasional walking sausage salesman, the cold seems to finally have penetrated our bodies. A revitalizing stop is urgently needed. Our guide Kati leads us to "Die Weinerei" (the winery).
Immediately a warm and cozy atmosphere greets us. Candle light on all tables makes the room appear in gentle soft light. After equipping ourselves with a drink and a large plate of warm, pleasant smelling vegetable soup and passing the semi self-service counter we enter the main room. I can only describe it as a mixture between lounge, cafe, bar and living room, but mostly living room filled with comfortable couches and furniture that even my grandmother would describe as old fashioned. Instead of curtains, old neck ties hand in one window. A stuffed monkey and Pumuckl hang from the ceilings and the red and yellow lamps are in serious need of dusting. Gentle French salon music plays in the background and an eclectic mix of guests is engaged in conversation, reading or simply relaxing.
After finishing our soup Kati tells us the story of "Die Weinerei" and that this is the second attempt to operate a cafe by somewhat socialist principles. The first Weinerei, supplied each guest with a glass for which is asked only 1 Euro (1.20 USD). Guests were then free to refill their glasses as they pleased with delicacies like wine, cappuccino or tea. Upon departure guests were merely asked to make a voluntary equitable donation to the cafe commensurate to the services received. Unfortunately this first Weinerei failed and had to close, allegedly due to abuse by tourists. The second version of Weinerei had slightly modified its operating principles but still maintained the essence of the spirit. Today guests have to pay for each drink but can still choose from a wide assortment of wines, coffees and teas, prices ranging from 1-1.5 Euro. Supposedly this new approach seems to work better. I certainly wish them the best of luck.
As I sip on my wine, I reflect on how terrific it is that in a city that once marked by the division between communism and capitalism, today 16 years after the fall of the wall, one can still encounter attempts to sustain the socialist spirit in very creative and refreshing ways. We resume our waking tour of Berlin and leave "Die Weinerei," the warm soup comfortably settles in my stomach and makes a great souvenir from the cozy lively place of communal friendliness. Outside a cold wind strikes my face and immediately reminds me of the cold realities.