From Checkpoint Charlie to Potsdamer Platz
PART 1: COLD WAR SIGHTS (NEAR CHECKPOINT CHARLIE)
2 Museum of the Wall at Checkpoint Charlie
3 Zimmerstrasse—A Cold War Carnival
PART 2: FASCISM SITES (NEAR THE TOPOGRAPHY OF TERROR)
5 Former Air Ministry (Reichsluftfahrtministerium)
7 Topography of Terror (Topographie des Terrors)
8 Berlin Wall Sights Along Stresemannstrasse
PART 3: THE TRIUMPH OF DEMOCRACY AND CAPITALISM
10 Sony Center
A variety of fascinating sites relating to Germany’s tumultuous 20th century are south of Unter den Linden, clustering in three areas a few blocks apart: Checkpoint Charlie, the most famous Cold War border crossing; the Topography of Terror and former Air Ministry, rare surviving Nazi artifacts; and Potsdamer Platz, a skyscraper jungle representing Berlin’s late-20th-century reconciliation, reunification, and rejuvenation. This area is beloved by armchair historians, including people who never cared about history before coming to Berlin (a common affliction).
These sites don’t really align chronologically, so as you stroll, keep in mind that we’re hopping back and forth between two distinct periods of Germany history: First, the 1930s and early 1940s, when fascism was on the rise—ultimately resulting in Adolf Hitler taking power as Führer, his National Socialism (Nazism) becoming the law of the land, and his brutal SS fighting force being widely feared by Germans and enemies alike. And second, the Cold War that kicked off as Hitler was defeated, dividing a battle-wracked Berlin down the middle into capitalist West and communist East, from the mid-1940s through 1989. (For background on the Berlin Wall, see here.)
(See “Fascism & Cold War Walk” map, here.)
Length of This Walk: Allow about an hour for the walk itself; if also entering the Museum of the Wall or the Topography of Terror, add at least an hour apiece.
When to Go: The walk can be done at any time. If you’re pressed for time, you can squeeze this walk in later in the day (the Topography of Terror is open until 20:00, and the Museum of the Wall until 22:00).
Getting There: Ride the U-Bahn to Kochstrasse/Checkpoint Charlie (U6); exit toward Haus am Checkpoint Charlie. You’ll emerge across the street from the Museum of the Wall, a block south of this walk’s starting point. It’s also a short walk from Stadtmitte (U2 or U6), or about a 15-minute walk south of Unter den Linden (just head down Friedrichstrasse).
Checkpoint Charlie: The replica checkpoint is free to view and always open (but you’ll pay to take photos with the “guards”).
Museum of the Wall at Checkpoint Charlie: €12.50, daily 9:00-22:00, last entry one hour before closing.
Topography of Terror: Free, included audioguide explains the outdoor site (ID required), daily 10:00-20:00, outdoor exhibit closes at dusk and closed entirely mid-Oct-mid-April, Niederkirchnerstrasse 8, tel. 030/254-5090, www.topographie.de.
DDR Watchtower: €3.50, open sporadically (though officially daily 11:00-15:00, longer in summer).
Services: There are free WCs at both the Museum of the Wall and the Topography of Terror.
Eateries: Several tourist-oriented eateries (e.g., sausage stands, American fast-food chains) cluster around Checkpoint Charlie and along Zimmerstrasse.
Starring: The Berlin Wall (intact fragments, and a reconstruction of its most famous crossing) and Hitler’s crimes (documented on the site where they took place).
(See “Fascism & Cold War Walk” map, here.)
• Find a spot on a corner at the crowded intersection facing “Checkpoint Charlie.” Ideally, stand under the “You are leaving the American sector” sign (by the KFC).
For nearly three decades (1961-1989), this was a border crossing between East and West Berlin. It became known worldwide and stood as a symbol of the Cold War itself. Today, the checkpoint and associated buildings are long gone, but a re-creation gives you a sense of what it was like.
The name “Charlie” came about because it was the third checkpoint in a series. Checkpoint A (Alpha) was at the East-West German border, a hundred miles west of here. Checkpoint B (Bravo) was where people left East Germany and entered the Allied sector of Berlin. This was Checkpoint C (Charlie). Its roots lie in the days immediately after World War II, when this intersection was the border between the US-occupied neighborhood and the Soviet zone. In 1952, the Soviets officially closed the border between East and West Germany, and blocked East Germans from leaving with a fence. But West Berlin was still open until the Wall went up here in 1961. Afterwards, Friedrichstrasse was one of the few places where people could legally pass between East and West—provided they had the proper documents, of course. That generally meant foreigners and officials from the Allies—not East Germans.
The East Germans fortified their side of the checkpoint heavily. There was the Wall, a watchtower, concrete barriers to prevent cars from speeding through, barbed-wire fences, and even a garage where vehicles could be checked for smuggled goods or people. (None of these structures stand today.)
On the US side, there was...Checkpoint Charlie. This was a humble shack for the document-checking GIs. It sat on a traffic island in the middle of Friedrichstrasse, fortified with a few piles of sandbags. While the actual checkpoint has long since been dismantled, you can see a mock-up, with a guard station, sandbags, and a US flag. There’s a replica of the original sign, which warned ominously in several languages: “You are leaving the American sector.” Larger-than-life posters show an American soldier facing east and a young Soviet soldier facing west. A couple of actors posing as GIs will take a selfie with you for a fee.
Imagine crossing this checkpoint as a Western visitor. Any friends you have in West Berlin desperately load you up with care packages (and possibly contraband) to deliver to their loved ones in the East. While you know you’re not the target of the machine gun-toting guards on watchtowers, approaching the border is still a frightening experience. Upon crossing, you’re required to change a certain amount of Deutschmarks into Ostmarks (the East German equivalent), at a ridiculous rate—winding up with far more money than you could possibly spend (since there’s very little to buy in the East). You enter a room where the guards might search you if they think you’re hiding contraband or foreign currency. At last, your passport gets stamped, and you’re allowed to go.
Stepping from West to East is the opposite of Dorothy opening the door to Oz: From a world of color, vibrancy, and freedom, you’re plunged into a monochromatic, soot-stained scene, with beaten-down people always looking over their shoulders. You keep an eye on the clock, since there is a strict limit to how much time you can be here. Finally, after spending or giving away your last Ostmarks (you’re forbidden to take any back), you retreat at day’s end to the safety of the West.
Lots of dramatic history has happened on this spot. In 1961, a car came speeding up Friedrichstrasse, crashed through the East German barriers, and made it to freedom. In 1962, Peter Fechter tried running to the West through no-man’s-land, but got tangled in barbed wire, was shot, and was left there, where he bled to death with the whole world watching—the first high-profile casualty of the Berlin Wall. Numerous brave escapees snuck their way through this checkpoint with forged documents, or hidden inside cars, or other ingenious schemes.
Checkpoint Charlie was a flashpoint in the Cold War. Here, US and East German soldiers could stare each other down, separated by only a few dozen yards of barbed wire. In 1961, 10 US tanks faced off here against 10 Soviet tanks...before cooler heads (and negotiations by Robert F. Kennedy) prevailed, thankfully averting a possible World War III. In 1963, President John F. Kennedy came to this spot to show solidarity with the embattled West Berliners.
Today, the area around Checkpoint Charlie has become a kind of Cold War freak show and kitschy tourist trap. Sidewalk vendors nearby sell Cold War-era memorabilia—chunks of the Wall, Soviet and US medals, DDR-era soft-serve ice cream, and so on. Beware: Hustlers charge an exorbitant €10 for a Cold War-era stamp in your passport. Be warned: Technically, this invalidates your passport—which has caused some tourists big problems.
As if celebrating the final victory of crass capitalism, a McDonald’s now defiantly overlooks the scene. Even the larger-than-life posters are fake: the so-called “Soviet” soldier is actually a Dutch model, photographed years after the fall of the USSR, wearing a nonsensical uniform of random medals, with a Russian (not Soviet) flag on his shoulder.
But the history here is real. For a more sober look at the checkpoint’s history, the Wall, and the many daring escape attempts, visit the Museum of the Wall at Checkpoint Charlie (listed next).
• A half-block past Checkpoint Charlie, on the left, is the entrance to the...
The museum traces the history of the famous border crossing, with a focus on the many brave and clever escape attempts over, under, and through the Wall.
More than that, the museum itself is a piece of Cold War history. Since 1962, this exhibit has stood here defiantly—within spitting distance of the border guards—showing the whole world the tragedy of the Wall. During the years of the Cold War, many famous people came here just to show their solidarity with West Berliners and lovers of freedom.
Today, the yellowed descriptions, which have scarcely changed since that time, tinge the museum with nostalgia. Hunks of the Wall stand like trophies at its door. The mazelike museum itself feels like an artifact: cluttered, cramped, dusty, disorganized, and overpriced, with lots of reading involved. While the museum is not for everyone (and serious historians will prefer the more thoughtful 
Berlin Wall Memorial Tour), the Museum of the Wall has retro charm and tells its escape stories well. If you’d like to visit, you’ll find more information on here.
• Outside the museum, at the giant “You are leaving” sign, you’re at the cross street called Zimmerstrasse. We’ll turn left and follow Zimmerstrasse a couple of blocks. Along the way are several Cold War sightseeing options.
Communist East Germany (a.k.a. the DDR) is forever linked to its trademark automobile—the Trabant, or, affectionately, the Trabi (TRAH-bee). Built in Zwickau, Saxony, starting in 1957, the Trabi was the DDR’s big play to compete with the popular West German Volkswagen Beetle. But its design and engineering (limited by a centrally planned economy) were nowhere near VW standards.
A ride in a Trabi was cramped, bumpy, and smelly. To gas up your Trabi, you’d open the hood and pour a gas-oil mix into a tank above the two-cylinder, two-stroke engine, which used gravity instead of a fuel pump. The body was made of a recycled, cloth-reinforced plastic resin called Duroplast. (So the body was as “green” as the engine was polluting.) On the upside, the construction was so simple that handy East Germans (who, out of necessity, were excellent do-it-yourselfers) could fix just about any problem with a hammer, a screwdriver, and a wrench. Production was limited, so the privilege of owning a Trabi required you to sign up on a waiting list and be prepared to wait many, many years.
In the summer of 1989, when Hungary suddenly opened its borders, whole fleets of Trabis were left behind by East Germans who went to vacation on Lake Balaton...and decided to flee West, never to come home. The Trabi remained in production until 1991, totaling more than three million cardboard boxes with lawnmower engines on Eastern Europe’s roads.
The best thing about the Trabi were the jokes it generated:
• Why is the Trabi the world’s quietest car? Because your knees cover your ears.
• How do you double a Trabi’s value? Fill the tank.
• “I’d like two windshield wipers for my Trabi.” “Sounds like a fair trade.”
• How many workers does it take to build a Trabi? Three: One to cut, one to fold, and one to paste.
• Why is the Trabi’s back window heated? To keep your hands warm while pushing.
• When does a Trabi reach top speed? When it’s being towed.
• What’s the longest car on the market? The Trabi, of course, at 60 feet long—6 feet of car and 54 feet of smoke.
Who says Germans don’t have a sense of humor?
Like the Ampelmann (traffic-light man), the Trabi is enjoying a renaissance as a bit of “Ost-algic” communist kitsch. Old Trabis are being rehabilitated and souped up for tourist trips. Just be ready to get out and push.
Zimmerstrasse—connecting Checkpoint Charlie to the Topography of Terror area—has lots of touristy attractions. These range from thoughtful to tacky, and from free to overpriced...but all of them are skippable. Note that this area continues to be developed, so most of these attractions are, to some degree, temporary.
Radiating out from the corner of Zimmerstrasse and Friedrichstrasse, you’ll see several information posters that offer a helpful visualization of Checkpoint Charlie history—with illustrations, maps, and descriptions of the history here. While you could get this information from a book, seeing it here helps bring meaning to this place.
At the same corner, facing the Checkpoint Charlie action, are two paid exhibits: Black Box Cold War displays a few artifacts and documents on Checkpoint Charlie and the Wall, but essentially repeats information in better museums around town. Across the street, The Wall: The Asisi Panorama is an oversized, 360-degree panorama illustration (by local artist Yadegar Asisi) that immerses you in a re-creation of the Kreuzberg neighborhood in the shadow of the Wall. While impressive, it’s outrageously overpriced.
From here, head west down Zimmerstrasse (past the panorama building). You’re walking along the former “death strip,” the no-man’s-land between the inner and outer layers of the Wall. Along the left side of the street, you can see the double row of cobbles marking the exact route of the Berlin Wall. Cobbles like this trace a route of 25 miles through the city (of the 96 miles total).
We’ll follow Zimmerstrasse (and its cobbles) two blocks, passing more temptations: The Trabi Museum, on the left at #14 (about the oft-ridiculed East-German tin-can car); Trabi World, farther along on the right (where you can book a Berlin tour in a Trabi, or even rent one); and the “Die Welt” balloon ride, offering aerial views over Berlin.
Notice that many of these attractions fill vacant lots—undeveloped prime real estate in the very heart of Berlin. Thanks to such a complicated history, it can still be difficult to establish ownership. Under the Nazis, Jews were forced to sell their property. After the war, the Soviets occupied it. Then the DDR government seized private property, which was occupied (but not technically “owned”) by private citizens. And after the fall of the Wall, many East Berliners flocked west, while adventurous young West Germans came here to squat in abandoned property and claim it as their own. So who owns it today? While Germany has made great progress in fairly redistributing property, some question marks remain.
• Soon, where the road becomes Niederkirchnerstrasse, those sidewalk cobbles dead-end at an actual, surviving...
Intact segments of the Berlin Wall are rare in this high-rent downtown area. This block-long section survived because it abuts the ruins of a Nazi building (the SS and Gestapo headquarters) that was intentionally left as a memorial, while the rest of the death strip was razed and rebuilt. This stretch of the Wall is especially evocative because, with its holes, you can see its rebar innards. This fit the DDR mantra of “cheap but efficient” for constructing the 96 miles of Wall that surrounded West Berlin. The tube-shaped top made it difficult for escapees to get a grip or attach a grappling hook. The heavy L-shaped slab bases both supported the weight of the Wall and prevented easily tunneling underneath.
But that didn’t stop people from going over the Wall—high over. Notice the tall, blocky office building across the street from the Wall—the former Air Ministry building. In July of 1965, a young, seemingly “model DDR” couple climbed to the roof, tied tennis racket strings to a hammer, and threw it across the wall. Their West Berlin relatives on the other side secured the line, and the couple zipped to freedom.
• This Berlin Wall section stands near the heart of Hitler’s political and military administration. The next two sites are on either side of the Wall.
We’ll begin our look at Nazi sites with the huge Air Ministry building—on your right as you face the fragment of the Wall. (This is fitting, since this same building was used by both the Nazis and the communists—bridging this tour’s two historic themes.)
• Turn right and head down Wilhelmstrasse (with the massive building on your left, and the vacant lot on your right). Pause when you reach the main courtyard of that building, set back behind a heavy fence.
The only major Hitler-era government building that survived the war’s bombs, this once housed the headquarters of the Nazi Luftwaffe (Air Force). The building—completed in 1936 and designed by Ernst Sagebiel—exemplifies Hitler’s bigger-is-better, fascist aesthetic. It’s designed to intimidate...to make the average person feel small and powerless. This is what much of Berlin looked like back when Germany occupied nearly all of Europe. (The courtyard is often used by modern film producers needing a Nazi backdrop.)
Large as it is, this building was constructed mostly in secret. Imagine: It’s the mid-1930s in Berlin. Hitler has just come to power as chancellor, then grabs even more (with the Reichstag fire) to become Führer. But Germany—just 15 years removed from its loss in World War I—is still subject to the Treaty of Versailles. One of the treaty’s provisions is that Germany is not allowed to have an air force. But Hitler and his military leader, Hermann Göring, have a secret “Four Year Plan” to re-arm Germany, including the re-creation of the Luftwaffe. In the summer of 1936, the world comes to Berlin for the Olympics...and sees that Germany now has an Air Ministry. Hitler is probing, provoking, testing...will anyone put a stop to it? They do not. Later that same year, Hitler remilitarizes the Rhineland—another illegal act. And again, nobody has the will to push back. Historians cite that pivotal year—1936—as the moment when Hitler realized how much he could get away with, emboldening him to build an empire. While all-out war was still years away, 1936 was the turning point when Hitler went on the offensive. And it all began with the Air Ministry.
After the war, this building became the headquarters for the Soviet occupation. And it was right here, on October 7, 1949, that the German Democratic Republic (a.k.a. communist East Germany) was officially founded. The DDR used the building to house their—no joke—Ministry of Ministries. In this building, on June 15, 1961, East German Premier Walter Ulbricht reassured nervous East Berliners, “Nobody has any intention of building a wall.” Less than two months later, the first bricks were laid. (Today, the building houses the German Finance Ministry.)
Across the street from the main courtyard, look for the information kiosk with a series of video screens. It can be hard to envision the weighty history at a monumental site like this, but these screens help—showing original footage of historic moments for 1914 through 2014 (that’s World War I to Angela Merkel).
• Continue to the far end of the giant building. There, at the corner with Leipziger Strasse, you’ll find a small plaza cut into the structure.
Look under the Air Ministry’s portico to find a wonderful (and unusually well-preserved) example of 6 communist art. The mural, Max Lingner’s Aufbau der Republik (Building the Republic, 1953), is classic Socialist Realism, showing the entire society—industrial laborers, farm workers, women, and children—all happily singing the same patriotic song. Its subtitle: “The importance of peace for the cultural development of humanity and the necessity of struggle to achieve this goal.”
This was the communist ideal. The reality was quite different. When the DDR barricaded its borders with West Germany in 1952, the economy floundered—and it quickly became clear that the West was better off. After Josef Stalin died in March of 1953, people across the Eastern Bloc hoped for change. On June 16 of that year, workers who were busy constructing the ambitious Soviet-style boulevard “Stalinallee” (now Karl-Marx-Allee) laid down their tools, went on strike, and marched to this square to demand change. (Look at the ground in the courtyard in front of the mural to see an enlarged photograph from that demonstration—a stark contrast with the idealized mural.) The next day—June 17—a general strike went into effect across East Germany. But the uprising never had a chance to gain momentum—it was shut down by Soviet tanks. Today the square is officially named the “Square of the Popular Uprising of 1953.”
• Now backtrack all the way along the former Air Ministry, to the fragment of Wall we saw earlier. Just beyond it is a modern building that stands in a vast, gravel-filled lot.
This museum stands on what was once the most feared address in Berlin: the Gestapo and SS headquarters. This is where Hitler’s reign of terror was hatched, where prisoners were detained and tortured, and where Heinrich Himmler plotted the Final Solution. (Today, virtually nothing survives from that time. The stark, gray, boxy museum building before you is completely new.)
The Topography of Terror is one of the few memorial sites that focuses on the perpetrators rather than the victims of the Nazis. It’s chilling to see just how seamlessly and bureaucratically the Nazi institutions and state structures merged to become a well-oiled terror machine. There are few actual artifacts displayed, but the site itself is powerful, and the exhibits are excellent. Photos and good English descriptions take you chronologically through the rise of Nazism, and the repression of all dissent through the organizations headquartered here.
Visiting the Museum: The museum has displays both inside and outdoors. Start inside, in the entrance lobby, with a model of the neighborhood. (We’re standing at #20.) Back in the 1930s and ‘40s, this was just one of many governmental office buildings along Wilhelmstrasse. Seeing this sprawling bureaucratic quarter gives you a sense of how much mundane paperwork was involved in administering Hitler’s reign of terror in an efficient, rational way. (Nearby, the dry introductory film is skippable.)
Stepping into the main room, you begin a chronological journey (with a timeline of events, old photographs, documents, and newspaper clippings) through the rise of Nazism, the reign of terror, the start of World War II, and the Holocaust. The displays illustrate how Hitler, Himmler, and their team expertly manipulated the German people to build a broadly supported “dictatorship of consent.” You’ll learn about the web of intersecting organizations whose duties were run from here. And you’ll learn about the Gestapo, SS (Schutzstaffel), and SD (Sicherheitsdienst), and about their brutal methods—including their chillingly systematic implementation of the Holocaust.
Some images here are indelible. Gleeful SS soldiers, stationed at Auschwitz, yuk it up on a retreat in the countryside (as their helpless prisoners were being gassed and burned a few miles away). A German woman, head shaved, is publicly humiliated for fraternizing with a Polish prisoner. On a street corner, jeering SS troops cut off the beard of an elderly Jewish man. A Roma woman’s eye color is carefully analyzed by a doctor performing “racial evaluation.” Graphic images show executions—by hanging, firing squad, and so on.
The exhibits end, mercifully, with the end of the war in 1945. A photo shows this former building in total ruins. The finale is a wall of colored cards used in collecting data for the postwar trials of the people who worked here. While the Nazi leadership was captured and prosecuted at the Nürnberg trials, the vast majority of midlevel bureaucrats who worked in this building—and who routinely facilitated genocide with the flick of a pen—were never brought to justice.
Before heading outside, ask at the information desk for the free audioguide. Also downstairs is a WC and a library with research books on these topics.
Outside, in the trench that runs along the surviving stretch of Wall, you’ll find the exhibit called Berlin 1933-1945: Between Propaganda and Terror (occasionally replaced by special exhibits). The photos and placards (which overlap slightly with the indoor exhibit) focus on Berlin, from the post-WWI Weimar Republic through the ragged days just after World War II. One display explains how Nazis invented holidays (or injected new Aryan meaning into existing ones) as a means of winning over the public. Another section covers the “Aryanization” of Jewish businesses: They were simply taken over by the state and handed over to new Aryan owners. You’ll read about Hitler’s plans for converting Berlin into a World Capital of gigantic buildings—the “Welthauptstadt Germania.” The exhibit even covers some of postwar Berlin, including the Berlin Airlift, which brought provisions to some 2.2 million West Berliners whose supply lines were cut off by the Soviets (for more on the airlift, see here). With more time, use the audioguide and posted signs to explore the grounds around the blocky building.
On one part of the grounds you’ll find the excavated (and pretty scant) remains of the basement prison cells. The building was equipped with dungeons, where the Gestapo detained and tortured thousands of prisoners. The general public knew what went on here, and it sent a message.
• Exit the Topography of Terror out the far end from where you entered—just past the end of the Wall fragment. You’ll pop out on Niederkirchnerstrasse. Turn left and walk about a block, passing some important buildings. On the left, at #7, is the fanciful Martin-Gropius-Bau—designed by a relative of Walter Gropius of Bauhaus-style fame. On the right is the Berlin House of Representatives—the government for the “city-state” of Berlin. Notice the three flags flying out front: the EU, Germany, and Berlin (a black bear on a red-and-white background).
After a long block, you’ll end at Stresemannstrasse. Turn right and walk toward the DB Tower.
Once the course of the Wall (notice the cobbles running under parked cars across the street), and long since renovated, this otherwise boring street hides a few interesting Berlin Wall-era landmarks.
A half-block down the street, look left (across the street) to see Köthener Strasse. This is home to the famous “Studio at the Wall” (Honsa Tonstudio). Just barely inside West Berlin, the haunting acoustics and historic vibe of this music studio attracted artists the likes of David Bowie (Low, “Heroes”), Iggy Pop (Lust for Life), Depeche Mode (Some Great Reward), and U2 (Achtung Baby) to record here...while watching the eerie sight of heavily armed East German border guards on patrol, just up the street.
Continue almost all the way to the end of the block. The second building on your right (at #128) is the Ministry of the Environment (Bundesministerium für Umwelt). At the far end of the building—almost to the corner—look through the modern building’s glass walls to see a graffitied stretch of the inner Wall, which worked in concert with the larger outer wall (across the street) to create an impenetrable death strip.
If you’re a Wall aficionado, consider a five-minute detour to see a rare surviving watchtower: Just past the inner wall fragment, turn right up Erna-Berger-Strasse. After a long block, on the left side of the street, you’ll see a lonely concrete DDR watchtower—one of many such towers built in 1966 for panoramic surveillance and deterrence. Note the rifle windows, allowing shots to be fired in 360 degrees. It was constantly manned by two guards. The guards were forbidden to get to know each other (no casual chatting), so they could effectively guard each other from escaping. This is one of only a few such towers still standing. You can pay to enter the tower’s tiny interior and peek out its windows.
Back on Stresemannstrasse, continue a few steps farther, then pause and look left (across the street) to spot a large stone block in the middle of the sidewalk, in front of Potsdamer Platz 10. This was placed in 1951 as the base for a planned statue of German communist pioneer Karl Liebknecht. But when the Berlin Wall went up, this was in the middle of the death strip—halting all further plans. (The block is still engraved with Liebknecht’s name.)
• On Stresemannstrasse, keep going toward all those skyscrapers. At the big intersection, use the crosswalk (or the pedestrian underpass) to cross over to the big plaza at the base of the towers. Position yourself by the small clock tower, near the big glass tubes, midway between the two cubical S-Bahn entrances marked Bahnhof Potsdamer Platz. This is...
Before World War II, Potsdamer Platz was the “Times Square of Berlin,” and possibly the busiest square in all Europe. But it was pulverized in World War II, and stood at the intersection of the American, British, and Soviet postwar sectors. When the Wall went up, the platz was cut in two and left a deserted no-man’s-land for 40 years. As throughout Berlin, two subtle lines in the pavement indicate where the Wall once stood. With reunification, a redevelopment campaign was immediately begun (christened by a 1990 concert of Pink Floyd’s The Wall). Since then, Sony, Daimler, and other major corporations have turned the square once again into a city center. Like great Christian churches built upon pagan holy grounds, Potsdamer Platz—with its corporate logos flying high and shiny above what was the Wall—trumpets the triumph of capitalism.
The green hexagonal clock tower is a replica of the first electronic traffic light in Europe, which once stood at the six-street intersection of Potsdamer Platz. The traffic cops who stood with flag and trumpet in the middle of the intersection were getting hit by cars too routinely, so this perch was built for them.
Take in the skyscrapers around you—representing the rousing recovery of Berlin from its miserable 20th century. Start with the easy-to-spot DB Tower—a curved, green-glass, crescent-shaped building. This is the corporate headquarters for Deutsche Bahn, the national train system. Jutting out behind the DB building is the (much lower) tent-like roofline of the Sony Center—more on that later.
To the right of the DB Tower is the Beisheim Center. Its twin, blocky-grey buildings are meant to recall the early skyscrapers of 1920s-era Chicago. The Beishem Center hosts ritzy hotels, offices, and a shopping mall beneath (accessed via the Bahnhof entrances).
To the left of the DB Tower is the 25-story, red-brick Potsdamer Platz 1 building. It’s better known as the Kollhoff Tower, named for the architect who built it. Though it looks like a retro Art Deco building from 1920s New York, it was built in 1999. This plays host to Daimler-Benz and big-name law firms. You can go up the tower to the Panorampunkt for great views (see here).
The next skyscraper to the left is the glass-wedge, 18-story Forum Tower. It’s by Renzo Piano, the renowned Italian architect who created the master plan for the entire Potsdamer Platz renovation. (Architecture students who want more could walk a few steps south of Potsdamer Platz to Linkstrasse 2 to find Richard Rogers’ practical-yet-elegant buildings housing more Daimler offices.)
Now turn your attention to the street level of Potsdamer Platz. The slanted glass cylinders sticking out of the ground help light the underground train station. Mirrors on the tops of the tubes move with the sun to collect light and send it underground, saving piles of euros in energy costs. Futuristic as it is today, the Potsdamer Platz station was once one of the Cold War-era “ghost stations”—West Berlin trains passed through, but nobody was allowed on or off.
The street running between the red-brick Kollhoff Tower and the glass-wedge Forum Tower is Alte Potsdamer Strasse. This tree-lined boulevard tries to re-create some of the charm of the prewar Potsdamer Platz...with venerable establishments like McDonald’s, Tony Roma’s, and Starbucks. The Haus-Huth (on the left, at #5) is a hundred-year-old wine merchant shop that’s one of the few structures to survive the bombs of WWII. Today it’s a classy place for a coffee and sandwich (operated by respected local restaurant chain Lutter & Wegner). At the far end of the street is a theater dedicated to Berlin’s homegrown siren of the silver screen, Marlene Dietrich.
• For the grand (capitalist) finale of our walk, we’ll continue to a shopping mall and entertainment complex that embody the last generation’s changes in Berlin. It’s tucked behind the towering Deutsche Bahn skyscraper—cross the street, head back behind the tower, and enter...
The complex sits under a grand canopy, designed to evoke Mount Fuji. At night, multicolored floodlights play on the underside of this tent. There’s a Legoland and other touristy attractions. Office workers and tourists eat here by the fountain, enjoying the parade of people. The modern Bavarian Lindenbräu beer hall—the Sony boss wanted a Brauhaus—serves traditional food. Across the plaza, Josty Bar is built around a surviving bit of a venerable hotel that was a meeting place for Berlin’s rich and famous before the bombs (preserved in the glass box to the right of the entrance).
The Sony Center is a hub for Berlin’s thriving cinema scene. It hosts red-carpet events, where major stars come to greet fans and promote their latest movie. Berlin has a major film festival (“Berlinale”) each February. And there are several movie theaters here, along with the Deutsche Kinemathek Film and TV Museum (described on here). A huge screen shows big sporting events on special occasions. (Otherwise it runs historic video clips of Potsdamer Platz through the decades.)
For all the attempts to make Potsdamer Platz a “city center” like it once was...it isn’t. The corporate-sponsored buildings feel pretty soulless. But then, Berlin has never had a single “main square” the way, say, Munich has its Marienplatz. Berlin is more a collection of former towns that now comprise dozens of distinct neighborhoods—Prenzlauer Berg, Charlottenburg, Savignyplatz, Kreuzberg, and so on. Potsdamer Platz may not be Berlin’s “center,” but it is a major hub for transportation and shopping. The place remains lively after dark—a sure sign something must be happening here. Locals are unimpressed by the grandeur and the overpriced tourist restaurants, but they do admit, it’s a good place to catch a movie.
• You’ve survived this historical minefield of terrible topography and jarring architecture, representing the full span of Berlin’s 20th century.
Potsdamer Platz is a major transportation hub, with S-Bahn, U-Bahn, and bus connections all over the city. Art lovers are a short stroll away from the Kulturforum—boasting some of Berlin’s best museum collections, from Old Masters (the Gemäldegalerie) and decorative arts to musical instruments. It’s about a 10-minute walk from here, just past the far end of Sony Center; see the Gemäldegalerie and Kulturforum Tour chapter.