Nearly full circle, I’ve landed back in Berlin, where the compass magnet gravitates to somewhere far east of Rosa Luxembourg Platz ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosa_Luxemburg ) where freezones are never really captured, and the streets do not spell out revolutionary ghosts as failed bloody squares jammed into round history-winner holes, but living breathing shifting psycho-geography and bodies that dip and dive into sun or shadows drinking milch kaffees along the pock-marked streets that are like rivers on fire… war by day and love by night. I had my fully-loaded bicycle within an hour of touching ground and the cultural ammunition awaits at every corner.
To give you a sense of the ever-morphing and on-the-run grey metropolis, i arrived at the HauptBahnhof that did not even exist just 3 months ago… a brand new central station, an atrocity of mega-mall proportions, but whatever , the city as grandiose baustelle ( construction site ) on red-alert, sirens singing in full regalia, rebuilds and rebuilds as if Sisyphus and Prometheus hand-in-hand with the Sony Center, the Reichstag, and McDonalds would some day all converge atop the Potsdamer Platz bunker rubble as the ultimate amusement park/haunted mansion/ roller-coaster peak… up, up , up , as if suspense could incongruently ride on never comin down.
I’ve entered the new station on the bottom layer, a deep northbound tunnel where my Praha and Bratislava train headed toward Hamburg unloads. And the clear glass and twisting metal frame is a giant canopy for travellers in a complex antfarm shopping mall that stretches upward for 6 or 7 stories. Where the queen ant is the german spirit nestled in the transparencies wanting both to hide and flaunt its industrious wings.
But we were off to the autonomous zones, quicker then you could say, ” consumer frenzy”.