A Trip From Berlin to Belfast
A Mini Europe Tour, Part 2, 3 & 4: Long Nights, Red Lights, and Titanic Tales
I had planned to make each stop its own immersive, standalone tale. But enough time has elapsed since I took these trips; that what was once a clear and vivid creative direction, with a fair split between emotion and recollection, is now hazy.
So instead, I’ll condense my highlights and thoughts on the places I visited into a single less immersive post, this one. Grab a beverage, it’s a long one. And Oh, Merry Christmas!
Berlin: Long Nights and Emotional Guards
Berlin felt very much like a metropolitan city, with much wider roads and a more diverse crowd than Vienna.
The tourist attractions and landmarks spread throughout the city, which made exploring most of it by foot a non starter.
It’s also renowned as the clubbing capital of Europe with a huge techno scene and a vibrant nightlife, so naturally I had to go clubbing. When in Rome, Rome and all that.
I went to the Maxxim club on my first night. The vibe was good, but clubbing solo rarely hits the same. I, however, enjoyed that the club oscillated between playing recorded songs and having live performances featuring a singer and a dancer. With purple neon lights swirling all around us, the singer gave an electric performance of classic rock numbers like “Don’t Stop Believing” and “Don’t Stop Me Now,” as the audience and I sang along at the top of our lungs. It was fun!
At 3:00am, when I assumed things would start winding down, I couldn’t have been more wrong. It instead looked like things were only revving up, as more people made their way into the club that now seemed more packed than I had last remembered. It was then I tapped out. I’m not equipped with the right knees or mental acuity for this, I thought to myself.
The next day, I would go clubbing again, with no regard for my knees. This time going to a different club, the 808, which played mainly hip-hop/pop songs. I had about the same experience as the previous night. But the highlight for me was running into a guy who mentioned he was from Eritrea. I did not know this was a country. And so I learned something new that night: Eritrea is to Ethiopia, what Ukraine is to Russia. Like the latter, Eritrea used to be a part of Ethiopia with shared history and cultural roots, but after a 30 year long war, Eritrea became an independent nation.
Clubbing wasn’t the only scene Berlin had to offer. Some of my favourite moments came at the popular Berlin Monkey Bar. While going to the club had felt like ticking off a checklist item, the bar felt more natural. A melting pot of both tourists and locals alike. With music playing loud enough to be enjoyed and quite enough to have conversations, the atmosphere was chill and welcoming. And as I people watched while waiting on my drink. A guy at the bar and I eventually got to talking. And after a bit, I introduced myself.
Me: My name’s Edmond. You?
Guy: Michael. Where are you from, Edmond?
Me: Canada. How about you?
Guy: Munich. Toronto…no, Ottawa’s your capital, right? So you play hockey over there, yes?…
Such a mundane question, but in it I see a curious mind and a well-travelled person - or at least someone who reads. For a moment, my eyes widen and a warm feeling rises in my chest. I’m both impressed and perhaps slightly jealous of how knowledgeable a person can be about the world. But soon a smile spreads across my face, as I envision a future where someone else says to me, “I’m from Germany”.
It wasn’t the first time I had experienced something like this. On one of my days out, while having dinner at an Italian restaurant, I sat next to what was an ongoing date between two young adults in their 20s. And with not much in the way of entertainment, I eavesdropped on their conversation.
They talked about the countries they’ve visited and the gentleman boasted, “There are very few places I haven’t been to”. He lists a couple places in Africa, North America, Asia and then says he’s just about been everywhere in Europe. What in the name of blood money??? And oh, he’s only 29.
At this point, both his date and I are wondering, How? And he explains that when he was much younger, his mum had the goal of travelling the world, and so he tagged along on most of her trips and when he got older, he kept travelling.
When travel and exploration is second nature to a people, is no wonder they are more knowledgeable on the world than most.
When I wasn’t eavesdropping on dates, I tried to learn a bit about the city’s history. And while I didn’t visit any museums, I visited the memorial sites. There’s something about seeing the number of deaths at the sites that makes my blood run hot. I knew nothing of the Sinti/Roma people before this trip and while I’m not Jewish or practice their traditions, learning more about how the Nazi treated both groups, fills me with a mix of rage and sadness. Despite this, I left with an appreciation of how open the city is about its past.
In my last days, I checked off some other touristy items, like taking a city tour bus, visiting the Berlin Zoo, and then visiting the famous East Side Gallery.
I also take some time to reflect on my trip, and I wander how best I could describe the vibe I got from the locals during my brief stay in the city. And the phrase that came to mind was - sexually liberated but emotionally guarded.
With loads of nude parks and fetish clubs spread around the city, it’s safe to say sex deprivation is not a thing Berliners suffer from.
In contrast, Margelo, my server at the Italian restaurant, in a bid to explain to me the emotional range of Berliners, he graced me with a story. He said, and I’m paraphrasing, you can work every day for 5 years at a job with the same person, see and interact with them on most days, maybe you even think you guys are cool. But when you see them outside of work one day, you both lock eyes. They will ignore your existence. Not sure how true that is, but the story stuck with me, because it mirrored the guarded interactions I experienced throughout the city.
Berlin is a fun city, but I feel it’s a city best enjoyed with a crew—one to match its boundless energy and sprawling streets.
Amsterdam: Of Canals and Cultural Reflections
I arrive in Amsterdam after a 5 hour train ride from Berlin. The ability to get to almost any country in Europe via rail is such a flex and a huge convenience. This was going to be a quick stop; I had only 3 days in the city, owing to my lack of fuck you money.
On my first night, I go on a tour of the canal, taking in the view with some wine and hard cheese. And as we glide through the canal, the tour guide explains that the city removes roughly 12,000 bikes from the canal each year. That’s crazy! At some point, we glide past a group of houses that lean slightly. They remind me of the painted ladies in San Francisco until the tour guide explains they’re called the dancing houses.
The “dancing” houses because Amsterdam is built on soggy soil and relies on wooden piles to keep the buildings stable. Overtime these wooden piles can shift or decay if exposed to air or water fluctuations, causing the houses to tilt or dance, the tour guide explains.
The guide also explains that some residents pay a costly permit to live on their boats and certain buildings lean forward intentionally to make it easy to haul items to upper floors. Eventually, I turned off my brain and just enjoyed the picturesque view; something about the canal at night makes it feel like a scene from a movie.
Buoyed by the magic of the canal tour, I braced myself for Amsterdam’s main attraction: the red-light district. I joined a paid walking tour led by a guide called Foxy (I know.. but that’s what he said). He seemed very knowledgeable about the place, the people, and its history. Foxy explains that during the 17th century, Amsterdam became a major port city. And with that came an influx of seafarers, who haven spent extended periods of time from home, spurred a demand for entertainment, companionship and other services. And naturally prostitution emerged as a response to that demand.
The further we got into the district, the more sex related shops and establishments popped up. It was both fascinating and overwhelming.
We eventually came across some of the famous red-lit brothel windows. The scene reminds me of Barbies displayed in clear boxes. The sex workers were on display by the windows and if you liked what you saw, you could patronize them. None of this seemed out of the ordinary. The district was busy, but other than that, everyone went about their day with no fuss. Prostitution has been legal in the Netherlands since the 2000s, and so perhaps this is all to be expected.
As the tour goes on, myself and the other tourists wondered how safe it was for the sex workers here, and Foxy explained that Amsterdam has cameras everywhere and panic buttons in the brothels that let sex workers alert the authorities if they ever felt unsafe.
My visit to the district had left me more intellectually stimulated than I was physically. I reflected on sex and the cultural attitudes surrounding it. Europeans often treating it as mundane, while in many African societies, it’s too sacred, only to be talked about in hushed tones. Both paths may have their pros, but in the typical Dutch fashion, perhaps a compromise could serve us well.
We don’t toss the car keys to a 16-year-old, and hope for the best, do we? No. There’s often years of watching someone else do the driving and that’s because you don’t ask them to avert their eyes when someone else drives, that’s just silly isn’t it?
In addition, most teens still have to take driving lessons, where someone makes sure they’re not a danger to themselves or anyone else, before they’re entrusted with the keys to a car.
I don’t know, maybe there’s something in there that could apply to the way we treat sex as a society, but perhaps that’s a problem for another day.
For now, when in Rome, Rome, I thought to myself, as I walked towards one of the local bars to experience more of Amsterdam’s famed hospitality.
Belfast: History and Friendship
Leaving Amsterdam’s thought-provoking district behind, I moved on to Belfast. Famous for the Harland and Wolff shipbuilding company tasked with building the titanic and a city rich with history on the troubles of Ireland, it’s definitely an ideal city to visit for history buffs. While all these were solid reasons to visit, this trip was also about catching up with an old friend.
There’s this phenomenon that’s wildly observed, where you act a certain way or a certain age when you reconnect with a friend. The last time I had spent any meaningful amount of time with this person, I was in my teens. And so occasionally, I found myself moving like a teen again, happy-go-lucky, carefree and at peak foolishness - in a good way. It’s fascinating how relationships can serve as mirrors to our past selves.
Filled with the energy from reconnecting with an old friend, I spend the week exploring the city. And one of my first stops is the Titanic Museum. It left a lasting impression and is an absolute must-visit for anyone in Belfast.
The front of the building immediately captures your attention with its architecturally striking design - four vast structures, each resembling the bow of a ship, paying homage to the city’s maritime heritage.
The museum showcases and explains Belfast’s industrial & maritime history, and the evolution of Harland and Wolff Shipyard. It also talks about how they secured funding for the Titanic from their primary financial backer, J.P. Morgan. When I hear that name, I think of an institution, because it is. It’s fascinating to think that once upon a time, it was just a person, albeit a very wealthy person.
Eventually, I get to the section that goes over the sequence of events that transpired before the Titanic went down. It’s solemn, with sad/pensive strings playing in the background. You can see the messages between Titanic and the surrounding ships in its last moments displayed on the walls, along with recordings of survivors periodically being played.
And by the end of the section, you’re met by a large screen that shows the list of people that were saved (713), and lost (1512) in the event. I lingered here for a bit before moving on.
Too many things went wrong in sequence for the Titanic to go down. It’s hard to conclude it all happened by chance. From Ignoring/missing multiple warnings of the Iceberg, to the missing binoculars that could have helped with spotting the iceberg on time. And when they did decide to swerve away from the iceberg, it was a tad too late; they were moving too fast.
On impact, the closest ship (the California) to them that could’ve helped, didn’t respond to their SOS call because the wireless operator was asleep…asleep!!! To make things worse, the ship only had enough lifeboats to save about 1/3 of its passengers, which apparently exceeded the safety measures back then. It’s safe to say the man downstairs was having a filled day.
On the bright side, owing to the mishap with the Titanic, the International Convention for Safety of Life at Sea (SOLAS) was formed. And it put a lot of measures in place to reduce the probability of another Titanic happening.
Besides the Titanic museum, the other thing I really enjoyed was yet another walking tour. I find it’s usually the best way to get to know a city, its history and its people.
The tour focused on the troubles and how Belfast was affected. And as we walk through the city, the tour guide explains that most people erroneously characterize the troubles as a religious war, a war between the Catholics and the Protestants of Ireland. Most people would be wrong. It was more a battle of ideals than it was of religion.
The Catholics wanted a United Ireland free from the UK, while the Protestants wanted to be a part of it. And it was that fundamental difference that lead to years of unbridled violence and unrest in the region.
And walking through the city, you can definitely tell that it’s been through a lot, but also trying to claw its way out of its dark past.
Soon, we walked past a building that looked abandoned. This used to be a pub, the guide says. Then he goes on to tell a horrifying story of people jumping out windows from top floors for fear of being blown to bits by a bomb. The night left many people badly injured and emotionally scarred.
It was a chilling site and story, but unfortunately, not a unique one. More tales like this spread across the city.
Despite sounding all doom and gloom, it had been a pleasant trip. I had good company, and I'm also realizing I quite like the Irish accent. It’s very melodic. According to my friend, it’s very sing-songy.
Belfast is not a popular destination in the way that London or Ibiza is, it’s not a happening spot. But having good company elevated my experience in the city and made it worthwhile.
Epilogue
I quite enjoyed going on these trips. Going through Europe felt like going through a time portal and reliving moments in history. I’m no history buff by any means, but walking through the cities with a local, or an expert guide like Foxy, brings the history of a place to life and makes it more engaging.
Also, meeting different people as I travel and getting an idea of how they think or move through life is fascinating.
As you can tell, I ponder a lot, and one of such events took place as I sat by the water banks on the west side of the Berlin wall. Why can’t life always be like this? Travelling, meeting new people, and having new experiences?
And something my mum says comes to mind “A person who belongs to everyone, belongs to no one“. She was hardly talking about travelling, but I think it applies here. You can’t always be on the move, you need an anchor - a sense of belonging somewhere.
So here’s to more adventures and new experiences while being safely tethered to a community you love and that loves you in return. Until next time.
Notes
Like the previous trip, Trip Advisor was pretty handy for all the things I needed to know about these cities before visiting.
If you enjoy learning about history in a way that feels effortless and engaging, I’d recommend listening to “The Spy Who“ podcast, it’s entreating, immersive, and informative. Here are some of my fave series:
The Spy Who Started the Cold War - Relevant to Berlin
The Spy Who Sold Peace to the IRA - Relevant to Ireland
Merry Christmas! Love that the takeaway was keeping on tethered whilst still enjoying the freedom of exploration.