Berlin is a city of contrasts. East meets west. New meets old. Just a little section of the former Berlin wall remains near Potsdamer Platz. The piece that remains has been painted in the past couple years and so it retains none of its historical appearance except its construction. Off to the side though is the more interesting part of it. Here, the original graffiti remains. Along the edge are chunks of the wall where a small piece can be taken for a souvenir.

The busiest construction area in Europe, the Potsdamer Platz is practically growing right over it, and a shrine of sorts in dedicated to preserving the last bit of the wall, as a reminder of history. The “newer” section of the wall promotes peace and crushing the rest of it.

Just a few blocks away is the sight of the famous “You are leaving the American Sector…” sign of Checkpoint Charlie. The museum (on the American side of the block) and more than one T-shirt store have fully exploited this bit of history. The sign remains where it is, but instead of tanks and armed soldiers, a two-sided placard hangs above the street directly above the line. As you gaze into former East Germany, the face of a German soldier warns you back, and likewise, an American soldier stands guard on the West Berlin side.

Not too far away from “the border” is the Alexandarplatz, site of the skyscraping Forum Hotel, where we enjoyed first rate accommodations for a moderate price (DM 100 each/night). Of course a stunning buffet-style breakfast was included. The hotel was connected to what was until very recently considered a European shopping mall. The platz is so busy that there are two eis stores right next to each other and both flourish.

And sadly Burger King has invaded Europe too, but not hardly so badly as McDonalds. The sad thing about Burger King for Americans though–it is exactly like it is in the US, while McDonalds are often a very different and interesting dining experience. Ordering a Royal TS, pommes frites mit mayo, and eine pils is not possible in the US. (That’s a Quarter Pounder with cheese dragged through the garden–the works, french fries with mayo instead of ketchup, and a beer pilsner.)

The World Clock is just across the square towards another shopping center. Nothing more than a dial that turns in relation to the earth, where an hour after it was 3 p.m. in LA, it is still 1 p.m. in Samoa, and already the next day in Moscow, the clock is more modern art work than timepiece, blending in nicely with the surrounding architecture.

No trip to Berlin is complete without walking the street first known as Unter den Linden starting at the Berliner Dom, and walking west through classical Europe, where although there is construction and more modern buildings, it is cleverly disguised within and behind statues, churches, museums, palaces guardhouse, and Romanesque columns at the fronts of plenty a building.

After the Brandenburger Tor, the street now becomes the Strasse de 17.Juni, where just a few steps off the main roadway, sights such as the futuristic Kongresshalle and the Tiergarten, the biggest area of parks with the city, before coming to the “victory tower”, where after a heart attack’s worth of steps, incredible views of the city present themselves. The breeze is a welcomed reward of the climb. Going down is so much easier.

Heading further west brings you to the Kurfürstendamm, shortened to the Kur’damm, known as the nerve center of the city of nearly four million. The street used to be the riding path of the Electors to the royal residences, but today the Kur’damm is the sight of the poshest shops, countless restaurants of every flavor, and street performers looking for an easy coin. One guy, dressed in gold-painted clothing, his hands and face also painted gold, stood upon a gold pail and as people dropped a few pfennigs or a mark into his gold-painted hat, he would move from his statuesque pose into another. Entirely too creepy for me, I enjoyed the musicians much more.

The first days were sunny and bright so people filled the sidewalk cafés, enjoying a bier. Even on the last day, despite pouring rain, people took shelter under the table umbrellas and enjoyed their biers. For those who did not want to take any chance at a cross wind, the Europa Center offered its share of taverns inside, including the largest Irish pub in Germany. Live music played nightly and although it was entirely too commercialized for an authentic Irish pub, the Guiness and Kilkenny went down smoothly enough.

A KFC was right next to the Irish Pub if that says anything, but another interesting piece of artwork-slash-timepiece was the waterclock, where, what looked like a science project gone astray, a pendulum pump dripped and squished and pushed green, Ghostbusters-slime looking water through the glass tubes to tell the time. Germans love their ice cream and Tiffany’s Terrace Eis Café was no exception. The highlight, other than the ice cream concoctions, was a huge fountain of pond stones, and metal water lilies.

There was even a Spielbank (casino) on the top level of the shopping and leisure floors. Going up another twenty-plus stories are office buildings and communications centers where perched atop it all is a huge Mercedes hood ornament, a symbol of the trademark quality of German industry and efficiency–work, eat, and play all in one building.

Just across the street on is yet another stunning contrast. Compared to the modern, mirror-faced Europa center, the Gedächtniskirche ruins stands as a memorial and reminder of the senseless destruction of World War II that did not even spare the houses of God. Subject of long controversy, the church looks like a hollow, rotting tooth, while the two ultra-modern buildings on its sides resemble a powder compact and lipstick. It is all a little off-center in the Kur’damm area, and it is still, as always, the boulevard of superlatives.

The Hard Rock Café was one of the best I have been to, and fairly reasonable fare was a nice American treat from all the wursts and schnitzels. I ate chicken fettuccini alfredo, about as un-German as possible. I bought my souvenir guitar pin. The biggest advantage to having a beer or eating dinner at the Hard Rock is that it is a guarantee that someone speaks English, so when in doubt, looking for a hoppin’ night club or which sights are worthwhile or where to stay, the HRC is a great source of info. Guidebooks can only tell so much.

The Zoological Gardens was an amazing spectacle, with plenty of rare animals. Quite often the case is that if you have seen one zoo, you have see them all, but in Berlin, there was a special feeling too it. The layout and architecture of the grounds was superb, so we saw the whole zoo, never back-tracking, in just a few hours. The zoo has more species than any other in the world, while its city-centre location makes it a popular green oasis. And after a day strolling with the beasts, there are plenty of ways to quench your thirsts within walking distance.

We rolled in after dark so only the dim outlines of the mountains were visible. The train ride had been entirely too long. From the hauptbahnhof, we took a cab to the General Patton AFRC hotel. We stayed in a suite which was the only room available, but for $100 split between four of us, was fairly reasonable.

We were all exhausted and decided to forego any bars so we could get up early to ski. Sleeping was almost too comfortable and in the morning, the view out the window was worth the price alone. The mountains reminded me of Colorado, but these actually seemed to peer over us, as if we were in a mountain chalet nestled below an overhang. The skies were blue and clear and we all looked forward to a great day of skiing.

After a hearty breakfast buffet, included in the room price, we rented the equipment and trudged the 200 meters to the Hausbergbahn, a gondola which sped 50 skiers up the mountain in just a few minutes. We bought the limited area lift tickets since the others were all beginners and the ticket agent assured me there would be enough terrain so as not to get bored.

A couple hours of gliding around on the perfect pistes, I knew I was not lied to. The conditions were excellent for skiing, but straying too far from the groomed trails was risky. The northern Austrian/southern German Alps had been heavily covered with snow, which toed the line between great ski conditions and great avalanche conditions. Evidence of recent avalanches dotted the surrounding mountains, but the Garmisch-Partenkirchen ski area was virtually untouched. A little further south the heavy snowfalls had forced helicopters to go in to rescue stranded skiers and hikers.

We spent the day on the slopes, enjoying runs that were as long as seven or eight kilometers, linking those with others to make for sometimes close to a half hour ride. My legs burned from being so rusty and out of skiing shape, but after the lifts closed, we all retired to the saunas, steam rooms, and jacuzzi’s to start the evening aprés-ski right. Later it was dressing up in corduroy slacks, sweaters and turtlenecks, and LL Bean style half-boots to enjoy Irish Coffee at the local pubs.

The snowbunnies were out in full force and even after only a day of skiing, my face developed the characteristic “raccoon-eyes” from the mountain sun reflecting off the snow. A couple hours at the bars and we left, feeling the true sense of taking a vacation. Though we left late that night on the train to Schweinfurt, I knew that we would be back soon. If the snow kept falling as it did, I might be able to ski all summer too, but we planned for the next two weekends.