From Pariser Platz to Museum Island
2 Brandenburger Tor S-Bahn Station
7 Bebelplatz—The Square of the Books
8 Statue of Frederick the Great
10 Museum Island and Former City Palace
Before reunification, before communism, and before Hitler, Berlin was a grandiose imperial capital, a city built to impress world leaders and intimidate would-be enemies. Prussia, founded in the 13th century by the Teutonic Knights, gradually became both a military and a cultural power, and later grew into the “Second German Reich” and the cornerstone of a modern, unified state of Germany.
Berlin’s imperial past is often overshadowed by its compelling 20th-century history. But along and near Unter den Linden is where you’ll hear the loudest echoes of the kaisers. This walk, a one-mile stroll from Pariser Platz to Museum Island (with some worthwhile detours), takes you through the heart of Berlin’s 18th- and 19th-century glory—past Neoclassical remnants of the enlightened Prussian rulers. It also includes three of Berlin’s most monumental squares—Gendarmenmarkt, Bebelplatz, and Lustgarten—and the Berlin Cathedral, which attests to the over-the-top egotism of the Prussian kaisers who sparked World War I. The walk ends on Museum Island in the Spree River—birthplace of Berlin, home of Prussian princes, and showcase of past rulers’ artistic treasures.
(See “Unter den Linden Walk” map, here.)
Tours: 
Download my free Berlin City Walk audio tour, which narrates much of the route of this walk.
Length of This Walk: Allow about 1.5 hours. This walk is designed to be done immediately after my 
Reichstag & Brandenburg Gate Walk (previous chapter). And if you’re interested in the communist period, it’s easy to continue to the Communist East Berlin Walk. (For more about linking these three walks, see “Create Your Own Berlin City Walk” on here).
When to Go: This walk can be done at any time. Those who plan on touring any of Museum Island’s many sights (covered in the next three chapters) should begin the walk early enough to allow plenty of sightseeing time. You could also use this walk to get your bearings in Berlin, then circle back to the museums on another day.
Getting There: This walk picks up right where my Reichstag & Brandenburg Gate Walk leaves off, near Pariser Platz. To get here directly, take the U-Bahn, S-Bahn, or bus (#100, #200, or #TXL) to Brandenburger Tor. Buses also follow the route of this walk—handy for skipping ahead or backtracking. And once the new U5 line is complete (likely 2020), it will zip (underground) along this same axis.
Pickpocket Warning: As Berlin’s most touristy gauntlet, Unter den Linden has more than its share of pickpockets (especially around Museum Island). Use caution.
Drive Volkswagen Group Forum: Daily 10:00-20:00, Friedrichstrasse 84, www.drive-volkswagen-group.com.
German Cathedral: Exhibit—free, Tue-Sun 10:00-19:00, Oct-April until 18:00, closed Mon year-round, tel. 030/2273-0432.
French Cathedral: Huguenot Museum—€3.50, Tue-Sat 12:00-17:00, Sun from 11:00, closed Mon, enter around right side, tel. 030/229-1760; dome climb—€3, daily 10:00-18:00, Nov-March until 17:30, 254 steps, enter through door facing square, tel. 030/2064-9922, www.franzoesischer-dom.de.
Humboldt Forum Visitors Center: Free, daily 10:00-18:00, www.humboldtforum.com.
Berlin Cathedral: €7, includes interior and access to dome gallery, not covered by Museum Island ticket, Mon-Sat 9:00-20:00, Sun from 12:00, daily until 19:00 Oct-March, interior closed but dome open during services (Sat-Sun after 17:00).
Services: You’ll find free WCs in the basement of the Academy of Arts (on Pariser Platz, near the beginning of this walk); in the basement of the Galeries Lafayette department store on Friedrichstrasse; and in the Humboldt Forum visitors center, near the end of the walk.
Eateries: We’ll pass several recommended eateries on or near Gendarmenmarkt.
Expect Construction: The U5 subway extension and the Humboldt Forum on Museum Island may be under construction during your visit.
Starring: Berlin’s kaiser-built main boulevard, and a trio of its most impressive squares.
(See “Unter den Linden Walk” map, here.)
• We’ll begin where Pariser Platz (the big square just inside the Brandenburg Gate) meets Unter den Linden. Stand on the sidewalk in front of Hotel Adlon to get a view down this big boulevard.
This boulevard is the heart of imperial Germany. During Berlin’s golden age in the late 1800s, this was one of Europe’s grand boulevards—the Champs-Élysées of Berlin, a city of nearly 2 million people. It was lined with linden trees, so as you promenaded down, you’d be walking “unter den Linden.” The street got its start in the 15th century as a way to connect the royal palace (a half-mile down the road, at the end of this walk) with the king’s hunting grounds (today’s big Tiergarten Park, out past the Brandenburg Gate). Over the centuries, aristocrats moved into this area so their palaces could be close to their king’s.
Many of the grandest landmarks we’ll pass on this walk are thanks to Frederick the Great, who ruled from 1740 to 1786, and put his kingdom (Prussia) and his capital (Berlin) on the map. We’ll also see a few signs of modern times; after World War II, this part of Berlin fell under Soviet influence, and Unter den Linden was the main street of communist East Berlin. The first two stops on this walk date from that period.
• Turn your attention to the subway stop in front of the Hotel Adlon (labeled Brandenburger Tor).
For a time-travel experience back to DDR days, head down the stairs into this station (no ticket necessary). As you go down the stairs, keep to the right (toward the S-Bahn, not the U-Bahn), to the subway tracks. You can walk along the platform about 200 yards, before popping back up to the surface.
For decades, the Brandenburger Tor S-Bahn station was unused—one of Berlin’s “ghost stations.” While you’re down under, notice how mid-20th-century the station still looks. There’s the original 1930s green tilework on the walls, and harsh fluorescent lighting. Some old signs (on the central pillars) still have Unter den Linden written in old Gothic lettering. During the Cold War, the line dividing East and West Berlin was anything but straight—which meant that some existing train lines crossed the border underground. To make a little hard Western cash, the East German government allowed a few trains to cut under East Berlin on their way between Western destinations. The only catch: No one could get on or off while the train was in East Berlin. For 28 years, stations like this were unused, as Western trains slowly passed through, and passengers saw only East German guards...and lots of cobwebs. Then, in 1989, literally within days of the fall of the Wall, these stations were reopened.
• At the far end of the platform, ascend the escalator, bear right, and head up the stairs to exit. You’ll emerge at the Russian Embassy’s front yard, situated on the right side of Unter den Linden (at #63). Belly up to the bars and look in.
Built from the ashes of World War II, this imposing building—it’s Europe’s largest embassy—made it clear to East Berliners who was now in charge: the Soviet Union. It was the first big postwar building project in East Berlin, built in the powerful, simplified Neoclassical style that Stalin liked. Standing here, imagine Unter den Linden as a depressing Cold War era cul-de-sac, dead-ending at the walled-off Brandenburg Gate. After the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, this building became the Russian Embassy, flying the white, blue, and red flag. Find the hammer-and-sickle motif decorating the window frames—a reminder of the days when Russia was part of the USSR.
Berlin was the capital of Prussia, a large kingdom that became the leading force and cornerstone of German unification in the late 19th century. While Prussia—which no longer exists in any form—can be hard to get your head around, it’s easier to understand through the lens of its most influential leader, King Frederick the Great. It was largely Frederick who set forth the ideals that defined Prussia and its successor states.
Frederick the Great’s father, the “Soldier King” Frederick William I (1688-1740), believed a strong army was the keystone of a great state. And so—like ancient Sparta—he was preoccupied with the militarization of Prussia. Voltaire famously said, “Whereas some states have an army, the Prussian army has a state.”
When Frederick II came to power in 1740, he honored his father’s military legacy. He extended Prussian territory (taking chunks out of Austria and Poland) and prevailed in the Seven Years’ War (1754-1763). But Frederick also wanted Prussia to be a cultural and intellectual leader. As king, he became both a ruthless military tactician and a cultured lover of the arts.
“Old Fritz,” as he was nicknamed, was a prodigy on the flute, spoke six languages, and counted Voltaire among his friends. He built over-the-top pleasure palaces at nearby Potsdam. Frederick invited musicians and composers to Berlin. C.P.E. Bach, the son of the more famous Johann Sebastian Bach, moved here around 1740 to play harpsichord in a band organized by Frederick—helping to make Berlin Europe’s music capital at the time. Under Frederick’s rule, Berlin grew wealthy and cosmopolitan.
But Frederick was also enlightened in other, more impactful ways. The “Sun King,” Louis XIV of France, famously said, “L’état, c’est moi”—I am the state, and all of this is for me. But Frederick had a different spin: “Ich bin der erste Diener meines Staates”—I am the first servant of my state. Frederick felt an obligation to better the lives of his subjects, through the arts and education.
Frederick wanted Enlightenment ideals to be accessible to all. He believed in social mobility, the rule of law via an independent judiciary, and the Protestant work ethic—by which even the poorest of the poor could improve their lives. The museums and other cultural institutions he built weren’t just for his personal pleasure, but to enable the betterment of his subjects.
And that didn’t apply only to native-born Protestant Germans. In an age when religious and ethnic minorities were being driven out of many other states, Frederick actively invited talented immigrants to come and contribute to Prussian society. When he annexed Catholic Silesia (from Austria), rather than forcibly convert his new subjects to Protestantism, he integrated them as-is into Prussian life—even allowing them to build churches in the capital.
Frederick was also a practical problem-solver. During a famine in the 1760s, it was Frederick who introduced the potato (then virtually unknown in Germany) as a highly nutritious crop. Germans have been potato eaters ever since.
Architecturally, Frederick left his mark all over Berlin (particularly the historic core). His custom-built square, today’s Bebelplatz, best embodies his values: a university library, an opera house, and St. Hedwig’s Church (built by those French Catholic émigrés).
In short, many of the characteristics we associate with modern Germany—hardworking, intelligent, well-cultured, effective problem-solvers, at times ruthlessly efficient, and, yes, really into potatoes—originated with Frederick the Great.
• Keep walking down the boulevard, for two blocks.
This part of Unter den Linden has traditionally been its business section. And to this day, much of what we’ll pass in these early blocks are dull banks, tacky trinket shops, and a few high-end boutiques (Herend and Meissen both sell porcelain here). But as we go along, the scene grows more cultural—the university, the opera, and so on. That’s intentional: The Prussian kings wanted to have culture closer to their palace.
As you walk, think of how this boulevard has evolved. In the 19th century, Unter den Linden was a leafy promenade lined with linden trees (also known in English as lime trees). Linden trees can live for centuries. But most of the trees we see today are not that old. Hitler cut down many of the venerable trees—some of them 250 years old—and replaced them with Nazi flags. Popular discontent among Berliners (even Nazi Berliners) drove him to replant the trees.
Look for big, colorful water pipes running above ground. (If you don’t happen to see any along here, you’re sure to see them elsewhere around town.) Berlin’s high water table means that anytime they’re digging into foundations, it requires lots of pumping out. And construction is always ongoing in this city, which seems obsessed with reinventing itself. Berliners accept flux as the status quo. As historian Karl Scheffler put it a century ago, “Berlin is a city cursed always to become, never to be.”
• Pause when you reach the intersection with...
You’re standing at perhaps the most central crossroads in Berlin—named for, you guessed it, Frederick the Great. Before World War II, Friedrichstrasse was the heart of cultural Berlin. In the Roaring Twenties, it was home to anything-goes nightlife and cabarets where entertainers like Marlene Dietrich, Bertolt Brecht, and Josephine Baker performed. And since the fall of the Wall, it’s become home to super-sized department stores and big-time hotels. For that reason, the next few blocks of Unter den Linden are pretty dull. So we’re taking a detour, following “Frederick’s Street” to Frederick’s finest square.
Cross the street, then immediately turn right down Friedrichstrasse and duck into #84: the free Drive Volkswagen Group Forum. This futuristic, souped-up showroom trumpets the many VW brands: Audi, Bugatti, Bentley, Porsche, Ducati, Lamborghini, and so on. On display are classic models, currently available hot rods, and futuristic prototypes (electric and self-driving cars). As you check your reflection in the chrome, think about Volkswagen’s surprisingly dark history: It was founded in the fateful year of 1937. Meaning “Car of the People,” Volkswagen began as a populist initiative of none other than Adolf Hitler, who sought an affordable automobile for the masses.
Back out on the street, continue down Friedrichstrasse. At the next intersection—with Behrenstrasse—notice something strange: No traffic lights. No stop signs. No crosswalks. Studies have shown that, when drivers, pedestrians, and cyclists are given no instructions about how to handle an intersection, it forces them all to pay attention and carefully negotiate with each other—and statistically reduces the number of accidents. Berlin is converting some of its intersections to this approach, hoping that a fleeting moment of confusion keeps everyone safer.
Keep heading...carefully...down Friedrichstrasse. A half-block after crossing Französische Strasse, duck into the grand Galeries Lafayette department store (on your left). Inside, you can ogle a huge glass-domed atrium—a miniature version of the Reichstag cupola. After the fall of the Wall, investors wanted Friedrichstrasse to compete with the glitz of Kurfürstendamm, which—throughout the Cold War—was the main commercial boulevard of West Berlin (see here). But the plan never really took off. Berlin is a neighborhood-oriented city, and sterile Friedrichstrasse isn’t appealing to many locals. They’d rather hang out in more colorful neighborhoods farther out, such as Prenzlauer Berg, Kreuzberg, Friedrichshain, and—yes—Kurfürstendamm. But this area still has some showcase shopping. (Before moving on, note that there’s a WC and a handy designer food court in the basement.)
• Inside Galeries Lafayette, turn left, exit onto Französische Strasse, and turn right. You’ll pass a shop for Ritter Sport—Germany’s favorite mass-market chocolate (see here) and then emerge behind a church. Circle around the church to find yourself in a grand square. Go to the middle, stand directly in front of the statue of poet/philosopher Friedrich Schiller, and take in...
Berlin’s finest square feels like a wonderfully symmetrical stage set—bounded by twin churches, with the Berlin Symphony’s Concert Hall in the middle. In summer, Gendarmenmarkt also hosts a few outdoor cafés, Biergartens, and occasional outdoor concerts.
The hybrid name of the square is part French and part German (after the Gens d’Armes, Frederick the Great’s royal guard, who were headquartered here)—a reminder that, in the 17th century, a fifth of all Berliners were French émigrés. Frederick the Great’s tolerant Prussia was a magnet for the persecuted (and their money). Protestant Huguenots fleeing Catholic France revitalized Berlin with new ideas, practical knowledge, and deep pockets.
The Concert Hall (Konzerthaus) was designed by Karl Friedrich Schinkel, the man who put the Neoclassical stamp on Berlin. We’ll see more of his works on this walk, and you can see his paintings in the Old National Gallery on Museum Island. This is one of Berlin’s two main classical music venues (the other is the Berlin Philharmonic, at the Kulturforum). Thanks to its uniquely divided history, it seems Berlin has two of everything: Two symphonies, two operas, two great museum ensembles, and so on.
The church at the north end of the square (to your right, as you face the concert hall) is the French Cathedral (Französischer Dom), which offers a humble museum on the Huguenots and a viewpoint in the dome up top. To peek into the austere interior of the church, you can circle around the left side and head up the stairs (organ concerts advertised at the entrance).
Facing that, at the south end of the square, is the German Cathedral (Deutscher Dom). This church was bombed flat in the war and rebuilt only in the 1980s. Inside, you can peer up into the brick-and-concrete dome, and tour the free, thought-provoking “Milestones, Setbacks, Sidetracks” (Wege, Irrwege, Umwege) exhibit. This traces the history of the German parliamentary system, from the revolutionary days of 1848 to the 1920s, and then more deeply through the tumultuous 20th century (it’s all in German, but you can borrow the excellent and free English audioguide). The German government invests mightily in educating its populace with initiatives like this. Germany is all too aware that a dumbed-down electorate, manipulated by rabble-rousing politicians who think they get to pick and choose which “facts” are real, can be a very dangerous thing.
By the way, neither of these churches is a true “cathedral”—because neither was the seat of a bishop. Remember Frederick the Great’s penchant for mixing German and French? In this case, the German name Dom (cathedral) is simply a play on the French word dôme (cupola).
Before leaving the square, consider checking out the elite Fassbender & Rausch chocolate shop (behind the German Cathedral, with the green awnings—see here). This area is also a good place to grab lunch; for recommendations, see here.
• Go around the right side of the French Cathedral and walk one block straight up Markgrafenstrasse. Turn right on Behrenstrasse, and in a half-block, you’ll emerge at another dramatic square, Bebelplatz. Head for the center of the square, until you find a glass window set into the pavement. Stand there in the center and survey the impressive buildings around you (noticing that you’re back at Unter den Linden—it’s running along the top of the square).
Frederick the Great built this square to show off Prussian ideals: education, the arts, improvement of the individual, and a tolerance for different groups—provided they’re committed to the betterment of society. This square was the cultural center of Frederick’s capital. In many ways, it still is. Spin counterclockwise to take in the cultural sights, some of which date back to Frederick’s time.
Start by looking across Unter den Linden. That’s Humboldt University, one of Europe’s greatest. Marx and Engels both studied here before going on to start the communist movement. Other distinguished alums include the Brothers Grimm and more than two dozen Nobel Prize winners. Albert Einstein taught here until he fled Germany to join the faculty at Princeton in 1932. Today, it has more than 100,000 students.
Continue panning left. Fronting Bebelplatz is the former state library—which was funded by Frederick the Great. After the library was damaged in World War II, communist authorities decided to rebuild it in the original style...but only because Lenin studied here during much of his exile from Russia. Inside, on the second floor, is a 1968 vintage stained-glass window that depicts Lenin’s life’s work with almost biblical reverence.
As you continue your spin, the square is closed by one of Berlin’s swankiest lodgings—Hotel de Rome, housed in a historic bank building.
Next, the green-domed structure is St. Hedwig’s Church (nicknamed the “Upside-Down Teacup”). It stands as a symbol of Frederick the Great’s religious and cultural tolerance. The pragmatic king wanted to encourage the integration of Catholic Silesians into Protestant Prussia after he annexed their region in 1742. And so this—the first Catholic church in Berlin since the Reformation—was built. It’s dedicated to St. Hedwig, the patron saint of Silesia (a region now shared by Germany, Poland, and the Czech Republic). But Frederick’s progressivism had its limits: St. Hedwig’s is set back from the street, suggesting its inferiority to Protestant churches.
Up next is the Berlin State Opera (Staatsoper)—originally established in Frederick the Great’s time. Frederick believed that the arts were essential to having a well-rounded populace. He moved the opera house from inside the castle to this showcase square. To make it even more accessible, the king set aside a few budget-priced tickets for every performance. Over the centuries, the opera has survived, but the building has been repeatedly damaged and rebuilt. It was bombed in 1941, rebuilt to bolster German morale and to celebrate its centennial two years later in 1943, and bombed again in 1945. Its latest renovation is scheduled to wrap up in 2018.
Now look down through the glass window in the pavement, which gives a glimpse at what appears to be a room of empty bookshelves. This book-burning memorial commemorates a notorious event that took place here during the Nazi years. It was on this square in 1933 that staff and students from the university built a bonfire. Into the flames they threw 20,000 newly forbidden books—books authored by the likes of Einstein, Hemingway, Freud, and T.S. Eliot. Overseeing it all was the Nazi propaganda minister, Joseph Goebbels. Goebbels himself tossed books onto the fire. As the flames rose up, he declared, “The era of extreme Jewish intellectualism has come to an end, and the German revolution has again opened the way for the true essence of being German.”
Think of it: Hitler purposely chose this square—built by Frederick the Great to embody culture and enlightenment—to symbolically demonstrate that the era of tolerance and openness was over.
A plaque nearby has a quote by the 19th-century German poet Heinrich Heine. The Nazis despised Heine because—even though he converted to Christianity—he was born a Jew. His books were among those that went up in flames on this spot. Read Heine’s prophetic quote, written in 1820: “Where they burn books, in the end they will also burn people.” Put in other words (by Voltaire, a friend of Frederick the Great’s): “Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.”
• Leave Bebelplatz toward Unter den Linden, angling left to reach an equestrian statue, in the median of the boulevard.
This statue honors the one man from Berlin’s early history who matters most: Frederick the Great. Frederick ruled as king of Prussia in the mid-1700s. He turned his capital, Berlin, into a world-class city. (For more on Frederick, see the sidebar, earlier in this chapter.)
Notice which way the statue of Frederick is pointing: east. He’s facing the epicenter of Prussian imperial power, where his royal palace once stood. We’re now entering the stretch of Unter den Linden that best represents Frederick’s legacy.
• Cross to the university side, and continue heading east down Unter den Linden. You’ll pass in front of Humboldt University’s main gate, where sellers of used books set up their tables. Immediately in front of the gate, embedded in the cobbles, notice the row of square, bronze plaques—each one bearing the name of a university student who was executed by the Nazis. You’ll see similar Stolpersteine (“stumbling stones”) all over Berlin (for more, see here).
About 30 yards further, notice the playful Berliner Wasserbetriebe manhole cover, decorated with city icons. These, too, are all over the city.
Our next destination is just beyond the university on the left—a building that looks like a Greek temple set in a small park filled with chestnut trees.
The “New Guardhouse” was built in 1816 as just that—a fancy barracks for the bodyguards of the Crown Prince. (The Prince lived across the street in the Neoclassical building just ahead—it’s the one with four tall columns marking the doorway.) Over the years, the Neue Wache has been transformed into a memorial for fallen warriors. Check out the pediment over the doorway: The goddess of Victory stands in the center amid the chaos of war, as soldiers fall.
The Neue Wache represents the strong, united, rising Prussian state Frederick created. It was just one of the grand new buildings built to line either side of this stretch of Unter den Linden. The style was Neoclassical—structures that looked like Greek temples, with columns and triangular pediments. Each successive German regime has used the Neue Wache to honor its soldiers. The Nazis used it as a memorial for their war dead. In 1960, the communist authorities rededicated it to the victims of fascism. Then, after the Wall fell in 1989, the structure was transformed again, into a national memorial.
Step inside. In 1993, the interior was fitted with the statue we see today—a replica of Mother with Her Dead Son, by Käthe Kollwitz, a Berlin artist who lived through both world wars. The statue is surrounded by thought-provoking silence. It marks the tombs of Germany’s unknown soldier and an unknown concentration camp victim. The inscription reads, “To the victims of war and tyranny.” The memorial, open to the sky, incorporates the elements—sunshine, rain, snow—falling on this modern-day pietà.
Back outside, notice the flagpoles flying the German flag and the red-and-white Berlin flag, with the city’s symbol—a black bear—in the center.
• Continue down Unter den Linden, passing by the pink-yet-formidable Zeughaus (early 1700s), the oldest building on the boulevard. Built in the Baroque style as the royal arsenal, it later became a military museum, and today houses the excellent German History Museum.
When you reach the bridge, cross the Spree and step onto Museum Island.
This island, sitting in the middle of the Spree River, is Berlin’s historic birthplace. Take in the scene: the lazy river, the statues along the bridge, and the impressive buildings all around you.
Berlin was born on this island around the year 1200 as a humble, marshy burg. In fact, the name “Berlin” may be derived from an old Slavic word for “swamp.” (Others theorize the city’s name derives from the German word for a female bear, “Bärin,” an animal found on the medieval coat of arms and today’s city flag.) The location was ideal: the river brought commerce, and the island provided protection from attack.
As the city grew, this island remained the site of the ruler’s castle and residence—from Brandenburg dukes and Hohenzollern prince-electors, to the kings of Prussia and the kaisers of the German Empire. Berlin was always the leading city of the northern Germanic world, even long before there was a united “Germany.”
Over the centuries, the royal palace grew in magnificence to match the growing empire. At its peak under Prussian rulers (1701-1918), it was a splendid and sprawling Baroque palace called the Stadtschloss, topped at one end with a dome.
So, uh, where is this palace?
It’s gone. The palace stood on the right-hand side of Unter den Linden. But after WWI, the last Prussian ruler was deposed. Then the palace was gutted in a 1945 air raid in the last days of WWII. The Soviets finished it off in 1950 by leveling the remains to the ground and replacing it with the Palace of the Republic—a massive, blocky, glass-fronted structure that held the parliament and various cultural institutions. In the early 21st century, that communist building was, in turn, demolished.
Now the site is a major construction zone. Germany is building the Humboldt Forum, a huge public venue that will resemble the original Baroque palace, complete with a dome on one end (you can already see it taking shape). You can drop into the big, boxy visitors center for an update, including models and plans showing the eventual goal. There’s also a handy model of the city’s core, circa 1900, including the original palace that stood here (also free WCs). On the top floor is a café terrace (Aussisctsterassen, free entry, look for elevator up) with great views over Museum Island.
The Humboldt Forum project is controversial among Berliners (who love complaining about ambitious projects as forcefully as they pursue them). Some feel that the communist-era Palace of the Republic was still perfectly functional, and an important piece of the city’s architectural heritage that should have been remodeled. The expensive new rebuild doesn’t have a unified purpose—it’s a loose bag of public spaces, minor museums and libraries, office space, and high-rent businesses. Whether the completed Humboldt Forum will be embraced or rejected by Berliners remains to be seen.
• Now, turn your attention to the left side of Unter den Linden. There’s a spacious garden, bordered on two sides by impressive buildings.
First, get oriented: The island’s big, central square is called the Lustgarten. At the far end is the Altes Museum—marking the start of a cluster of Neoclassical museum buildings. And to the right is the imposing Berlin Cathedral, with its green domes.
For 300 years, the island’s big central square—Lustgarten—has flip-flopped between being a military parade ground and a people-friendly park, depending on the political tenor of the time. In the Nazi era, Hitler enjoyed giving speeches here—from the top of the museum steps overlooking this square. In fact, he had the square landscaped to fit his symmetrical tastes and propaganda needs. (Those shrubs look kinda fascist to me...) In 1999, the Lustgarten was made into a pleasant park, one of Berlin’s most enjoyable public spaces.
At the far end of the Lustgarten is a cache of grandiose museum buildings that represent the can-do German spirit of the 1800s. Before the 19th century, there was no “Germany”—just a collection of 39 little German-speaking countries: Bavaria, Saxony, the lands along the Rhine, and so on. The mightiest of these mini-states was Prussia, with its capital right here on this island. What united the “German” people was their common language and historic roots. In the 1800s, a movement was coalescing. Its goal: to unite all those little German-speaking states into a single modern nation. Economically, German iron and coal output multiplied, and trade was booming. Finally, in 1871, Germany united, and Berlin was its capital. These buildings—in the Neoclassical style—represented German optimism, creating a New Germanic Athens.
The earliest building—the one you see from here, with the long colonnade—was the Altes Museum, which went up in the 1820s. It was designed by Karl Friedrich Schinkel, the architect who remade Berlin in the Neoclassical style. (Schinkel also designed the Concert Hall on Gendarmenmarkt, the Neue Wache, the bridge we just crossed, and even the warrior statues on the bridge.) The rest of the Museum Island complex began taking shape in the 1840s, when city leaders envisioned the island as an oasis of culture and learning. Today, the island’s impressive buildings host five grand museums. The Altes Museum houses antiquities. Just beyond are the Neues Museum (with the ethereal Bust of Nefertiti), the Pergamon Museum (with classical antiquities), the Old National Gallery (German Romantic painting), and the Bode Museum. (For self-guided tours of each museum’s highlights, see the Museum Island Tour and the Pergamon Museum Tour chapters.)
Dominating the island is the towering, green-domed Berlin Cathedral (Berliner Dom). This is only a century old, built during the reign of Kaiser Wilhelm II—that jingoistic emperor in the spiked helmet who led Europe into World War I. He considered himself not merely a king but a kaiser—a Caesar. The church’s bombastic Wilhelmian architecture is a Protestant assertion of strength. It seems to proclaim, “A mighty fortress is our God...and he speaks German.”
The years of Kaiser Wilhelm’s rule, from 1888 to 1918, were a busy age of building. Germany had recently been united (in 1871), and the emperor wanted to give his capital stature and legitimacy (it was Kaiser Wilhelm who built the Reichstag). The Wilhelmian style is over-the-top: a garish mix of Neoclassical, Neo-Baroque, and Neo-Renaissance, with rippling stucco and gold-tiled mosaics. This cathedral, while Protestant, is as ornate as if it were Catholic.
The church is at its most impressive from the outside, but if you pay the pricey admission to go in, you’ll see the great reformers (Luther, Calvin, and company) standing around the brilliantly restored dome like stern saints guarding their theology. King Frederick I rests in an ornate tomb. And you can pay to climb the dome for great views (270 steps with pleasant, breezy views of the city at the finish line). The crypt downstairs is not worth a look.
• Continue down Unter den Linden past the cathedral, and pause on the bridge over the Spree.
The Spree River is people-friendly and welcoming. A parklike promenade leads all the way from here to the Hauptbahnhof. Along it, you’ll find impromptu “beachside” beer gardens with imported sand, BBQs in pocket parks, and lots of locals walking their dogs, taking a lazy bike ride, or jogging. Spree River boat tours depart from near here.
You may notice “don’t drop anchor” signs. Believe it or not, there are still unexploded WWII bombs around town, and many are in this river. Every month, several bombs are found at construction sites. Local guides explain that the bomb’s triggers were set for the hard ground of Scotland, where they were tested. But Berlin sits on soft soil (“Berlin” means “swamp,” remember?)—so an estimated 1 out of every 10 bombs dropped didn’t explode.
• Our Unter Den Linden stroll is finished. Now’s the perfect time to carry on with your choice of other walks or tours:
To finish up your orientation stroll through the heart of Berlin—with a focus on the communist period—the Communist East Berlin Walk begins from right here.
The Museum Island Tour and Pergamon Museum Tour also begin a few steps from where you’re standing.
The German History Museum Tour requires just a short backtrack across the Spree.
If you’d like to take a cruise along the Spree River—a great activity for a sunny day—my favorite dock is just up the river (behind the Humboldt Forum, on the left bank; for details, see here).
The Scheunenviertel Walk—with an engaging look at a trendy neighborhood with plenty of restaurants, fun-to-explore courtyards, and artifacts of Berlin’s Jewish history—beings a short walk away, at the Hackescher Markt S-Bahn station. To get there, cross the bridge behind the Berlin Cathedral, turn left, and follow the riverbank north for a couple of blocks. Bear right under the rail tracks, and you’re in the heart of Hackescher Markt.
The Hackescher Markt S-Bahn station is also a handy hub for getting to other points in the city. You can also hop on bus #100 or #200 at the Lustgarten stop (along Unter den Linden, right in the middle of Museum Island) to zip you in either direction—east to Alexanderplatz (behind the TV Tower), or back the way you came, to the Brandenburg Gate and Reichstag area. Bus #100 continues all the way through Tiergarten park to City West and the Ku’damm.