25 March, Wednesday.
I was actually expecting to be going to Bristol Airport to meet Sieglinde today, but two days after I returned from Berlin she had had what the Germans call a Hexenschuß, a very painful attack of lumbago, so I was up at 5:00 in time to take a taxi to pick up the 6:10 Falcon bus near the Met Office. This arrived at 7:54 at Bristol Airport
in good time to check in and go through security to board the 11:00 EasyJet flight to Berlin. ZY2933 departs 13:55 Arrival Berlin slight delay, smooth flight despite winds in SW, met by Sieglinde by check-in gates, coffee and cheesy snack in airport, meal in Aperitivo.
14:00 FODA Committee Zoom minutes and papers received. Need update on newsletter and Sidmouth Observatory.
26 March, Thursday.
Today we went to Steglitz, the nearest shopping center - a bit like like Croydon, but with style and much more handsome buildings - to buy my April Deutschland ticket and four single tickets to take me up to 1 April. There was a friendly atmosphere in the ticket office, many embraces among staff who were leaving for their Easter break.
Back home, we set up an Easter table with a host of little figures in wood and ceramic, so beloved by Germans. I had brought some hot cross buns, Easter cakes and a Lindt Easter bunny. This last met an Osterhase, also by Lindt, which Sieglinde had not had the heart to eat last year.
At the Easter table we consumed a massive evening meal with chilli con carne and Kartofelpuffer (potato pancakes). We heard that Sieglinde’s cousin Illa had died that morning aged 91. The funeral was planned for Thursday 2 April.
27 March, Friday.
Today was Sieglinde's regular physiotherapy session. We missed the connecting bus in Steglitz, but a taxi got us there on time and I waited in Al Salvatore working on the computer until she joined me for lunch. We returned to Steglitz for another shopping spree, including a visit to the Schloß shopping centre and a chocolate store with a rich collection of Easter chocolates, some of which Sieglinde bought for her friends and the health practices she visits.
28 March, Saturday.
We decided to explore the district around Apostel Paulus Kirche, an attractive area that Sieglinde and Hubert had both enjoyed visiting. The English teashop in Goltzstraße was fully booked, but we found the Meyan Restaurant at no. 36, on the way passing the Berliner Geschichtswerkstatt at no. 49, a history workshop which looked interesting, so we picked up a leaflet.
29 March, Sunday.
The clocks moved forward overnight which threw us back an hour, so we watched the Palm Sunday Catholic service from Austria on TV rather than making our way out to Sieglinde's Baptist community.
30 March, Monday.
A cold and dreary day, so the morning was spent on household tasks and I did some work on the Westcountry section of the Gough map of Great Britain dating from 1360 held by the Bodleian Library, for my talk at Redruth.
In the afternoon we set off under an enormous umbrella the for the Apostel Paulus Kirche once again and watched the bells swinging high above us in the belfry as crows wheeled around. At four o’clock we visited the Berliner Geschichtswerkstatt in Goltzstraße 49 to ask whether tickets were required for the launch that evening of Eine Brücke für Rosa L.: die Geschichte der Namengebung für den Rosa Luxemburg-Steg. None were required so we searched the nearby Akazienstraße for a possible eating place. It was empty and dreary, many restaurants closed on a dismal Monday and we searched in vain for the Café BilderBuch at no. 28, a favourite haunt of Sieglinde and Hubert. We settled for the nearby Buddha Haus Ayurvedic restaurant in Akazienstraße 27 where we had the best matsman peds we had ever eaten. They told us that the café had closed a few months back, another victim of the rising rental prices in Berlin.
We arrived at the history workshop just in time for the 19:00 presentation by the main author Jürgen Karwelat of their most recent publication which reports on their 25-year campaign to get the bridge where the socialist activist Rosa Luxemburg was murdered in 1919 to bear her name. Apparently each year on the anniversary of her murder they put a "Rosa Luxemburg Brücke" nameplate on the bridge and each time the authorities took it down. Eventually the Berlin authorities relented. Among other things it was pointed out that few women bore the names of streets or buildings. A compromise was reached; as it was only a footbridge it was named Rosa Luxemburg Steg rather than Brücke. Most of the twenty or so people present seemed to know each other and Sieglinde struck up a conversation with the book’s designer.
We had learned that their next big project was to uncover the history of the Goltzstraße in which the workshop was situated so I took along a copy of my Magdalen Road, Exeter book which I had taken over for Sieglinde. They expressed an interest and I resolved to update the web pages linked to the book, which were not as full as the published version. The workshop has been active as a non-profit organisation since 1981 and has produced a number of publications related to their various projects — there are nine currently in print. The Berlin History Workshop has a library of books on the different neighbourhoods of Berlin and an extensive collection of oral testimony from the Nazi and GDR periods with an emphasis on Jewish and women's stories and also of forced labour during World War 2. They are very much neighourhood based and aim to fill “the gap between academics and ‘normal’ citizens simply interested in the history of their street, school or company.” They also give historical tours and work for Berlin's heritage in a similar way to Exeter Civic Society in Exeter. Maybe a similar centre could result for Exeter as part of local government reorganisation and Exeter City Council’s cultural aspirations but, even in a world city like Berlin, they operate on a shoestring, reliant on subscriptions, donations and grant funding for individual projects.
31 March, Tuesday.
In the afternoon Sieglinde was due for an MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) scan in Mainzerstraße, just one U-Bahn station north of Friedenau. Immediately after the scan we were taken to see the screen with images which showed two slipped discs and a constricted spinal column and the consultant asked whether Sieglinde could actually walk. He recommended an operation but said that she should see a specialist first and we left with a written report and a CD containing the scans. Afterwards we had a meal in the nearby Ristorante Roma as consolation. Pleasant, clean and reasonably priced and the staff were friendly, but it was not as gemütlich as the Aperitivo.
1 April, Wednesday.
I was sent on an expedition to the local shops to collect dry cleaning, buy some foodstuffs and rolls to clear the decks for a more major shop in Steglitz later in the day. She also warned me that I ought to get a haircut to look decent for cousin Illa’s funeral next day. We found a bisexual establishment in Steglitz with no need for an appointment and went in. It had a very macho-looking décor, dark wood with prints of tattooed men on motor-bikes, but we were made welcome and I explained what I required. He was probably Turkish and certainly set to work with a very different technique from those in Exeter – much use of clippers, and scissors seldom appeared, but in no time he had produced exactly what was required. Then he said “ears and nose too?” I thought he meant a little snipping with scissors – he had already trimmed my eyebrows and my stubble – but he returned with four sticks on a little tray which he proceeded to stick into each ear and up each nostril. They were hot, very hot, and I now realised what I had let myself in for and I summoned Sieglinde to take a photograph in case it might be required for criminal investigations into assault and battery later.
2 April, Thursday.
Today the funeral of Sieglinde’s cousin Illa (Ilse Martha Willert) took place. We caught the U-Bahn to Rathaus Steglitz, then the S-Bahn to Hohen Neuendorf where we were collected by Michael who took us to his house where we were met by his wife Andrea. Hohen Neuendorf lies in woodlands to the north of Berlin in what used to be the DDR, and it was there that Illa was the prime mover with an evangelical Christian group in setting up an old people’s home, quite an achievement in a soviet-style state, and Emmaus is now a flourishing modern centre with about 100 residents. Illa lived with Michael and Andrea in their house adjacent to Emmaus after she retired, until she had to move there herself two years before her death on 23 March at the age of 91.
We were taken by car along cobbled roads to the little red-brick chapel of the cemetery in Hohen Neuendorf where the funeral service was to take place, and there was not room inside for all of the 100 or so congregation where four generations of the family were represented, as well as many from Emmaus. There were prayers and two hymns, where the congregation joined in more enthusiastically than in the Apostel Paulus Kirche the previous Sunday. A member of the community of Brethren, to which many of the family belonged, officiated at the service and gave a moving eulogy. Ella never married and devoted her life to God and humanity. While he spoke I remembered those who had left my life since Jill and Hubert, most recently Matt Broadhead, Mike Maguire and Leo Batten.
After the service we all processed behind the coffin, through the trees coming into blossom on a sunny but fresh spring day, to the grave where each person present cast rose petals or earth onto the coffin and there were more prayers and another hymn.
We were collected from the cemetery by Michael and Andrea and taken back to their house where we cut through the back garden into Emmaus where a feast of filled rolls, cakes and coffee was prepared by the canteen staff for the hundred or so people present. As the meal progressed there were more prayers and hymns and an opportunity for people to present their memories and appreciation of Illa and her contribution to their lives. There were many devout people there and it was clear that most of them saw Illa’s work as part of God’s Great Plan. I have translated Sieglinde’s contribution, which brought back to many of those present memories of the hard life of the war and post-war years in and around Berlin when food was scarce and the gift of a bar of chocolate was a miracle.
Our Illa, what a rich and fulfilling life! Our Lord bestowed so much love and blessing upon you, dear Illa, that you could share it so abundantly. How much of this have I experienced in my own life! You have shown so much love to me.
I still remember so many wonderful times we shared. You were a sister to me and Christel. During the flood of 1947, you lived with my mother and us two little girls in Berlin-Rummelsburg. Our father hadn't returned from the war, and our mother worked in the same building where we lived, at Betten Schulz, as a seamstress. So you were a great help to her as well. You were always there for us! You did everything for us. You took us to kindergarten and picked us up again. How happy we were when you came to collect us! No empty house for us to come home to. You cared for us and played with us. You were our big sister who watched over us and was always there for us.
I also remember how spoiled we were. Our mother allowed us to do almost anything. In the summer we ran around barefoot. You had warned us, and sure enough, the cobblestones were much too hot, and you had to carry us. We didn't walk a step, and you carried us, first one, then the other little sister. I remember so many wonderful hours you spent with us in the kitchen. We were allowed to help you cook, shared snacks, and afterwards you played with us. Thank you, dear Illa.
And how wonderful it was when, in spring and summer, we were allowed to go to Goltzow. You and Uschi, you were for us like two big sisters! You picked us up from the train station with your bikes. You slept in one bed with us — you, Illa, with Christel, and Uschi with me on straw, and certainly sometimes with a little mouse for company. How we loved being in your house and together with you! And how I always looked forward to the cake you baked on Sundays, and to going to the smokehouse on Sundays to fetch ham for the breakfast table.
Yes, how different everything was here in the countryside, with manure heaps, cows, and pigsties. You, dear Illa, and I often herded cows together, and we confided our greatest secrets to each other. How exciting it was to share secrets! That's how I learned from you that I would soon have a little brother, or perhaps a little sister. I couldn't believe that my parents were doing such a “dirty thing”! And also that on Sunday, Uschi might be visited from Berlin — perhaps by Peter Hase. How secretive it all was, and how wonderful it was that you confided so much in me, a little girl, and you, already a big girl. After all, you were seven years older.
And you, dear Illa, were always there when help was needed. Norbert was born, and you simply wanted to help, wherever it might be needed. In the rooms and the kitchen, now with five of us and you as well, it all worked wonderfully. You cooked, washed, and cleaned. You were simply there for us, and it was a joyful time. Thank you for that too, dear Illa.
And I remember the time when you worked as a nurse at the Charité hospital and later in an ophthalmology practice in Berlin, and you often visited us at home on Köpenicker Straße. I was always so happy about your visits; it was always something special. We played and laughed a lot. And then, when Kunow was studying in Berlin, we visited you on Gryphiusstraße to go to the opera or the theatre together. So many beautiful memories remain, all linked to you.
God gave you a joyful and pure heart. Thank you for sharing it with us all so generously.
This early period of her life always came up when Sieglinde and I shared memories and it was clear from the reactions that they also struck a bell with many others in the room.
We returned to Michael and Andrea’s garden where we sat in groups catching up with each others’ lives and watching the children play. Wine was passed round, as were blankets as the sun went down and it became colder. There was even a heated cushion for Sieglinde. We were joined by Matthias and Magdalena from Frankfurt an der Oder who had taken us to Potsdam for the day back in October. Matthias, who is head of the cardiac section in the hospital in Frankfurt, looked at the report of the radiologist and said it was not as bad as all that, and that we should take specialist advice before going for an operation, weighing up the possibility of the side effects of an operation being worse than the present situation. They took us back to the station on their way home and we made a firm decision to meet up again.
It was an interesting day and rather full-on for someone like me, of little faith or none, but for whom the rites of passage and the yearly rituals of the Christian and other communities are very important, and I felt privileged to be welcomed into this event to commemorate the passing of someone who was so central to this particular community. There were moments when I had to bite my tongue, as when somebody said that Donald Trump was being used by God to fulfil His Great Plan. Had He (or She) not been told that he was a war criminal? Mercifully, Sieglinde has distanced herself from the fundamentalist Brethren she had been brought up with, although her faith remains strong, and her love of the chorales of Bach and Praetorius means that she takes me to churches with a good traditional musical culture.
We were both shattered after a long and emotionally exhausting day and fell asleep between stations on the way home, fortunately waking up at Bundesplatz where we had to change from S-Bahn onto U-Bahn.
3 April, Friday.
Good Friday and we watched the Good Friday Protestant service in Schleswig Cathedral on the television while still in bed. We worked on the computer during the day and at about 16:30 I changed back into my funeral garb and we went round to the Aperitivo restaurant for coffee and an indulgent cake before the St John Passion in the local church Zum Guten Hirten (the Good Shepherd).
We had tickets for the front rows but thought we had better arrive early. It was just as well as we did, as there was already a lengthy queue of ticket holders which we joined. The large red-brick church was packed and we only found a place on the outer edge, perched precariously on fold-up chairs at the end of the wooden pews. It was an excellent performance with the Friedenau church choir, a baroque orchestra and soloists. The bass, who came from York, had a particularly powerful voice. We were asked not to give applause after the performance but to stand in silence in recognition of the work of all those who had come together to make the event happen. It seemed very appropriate, a time to reflect, and perhaps for some to pray. The performance lasted two hours on hard seats and we decided to return to the Aperitivo for a pasta and a glass of Primitivo – a fine end to an enjoyable and relaxed day even after spending some time scrambling around on the floor of the restaurant searching for one of the staff’s missing ear-rings. We did get a glass of limoncello for our efforts and later learned that it had fallen off her ear and got tangled up in her bra - I hadn't thought to search there although I had suggested that it might have fallen into a pocket.
4 April, Saturday.
Another gloomy day and we didn't want to go far as we thought that everywhere would be packed over Easter. We went to the cemetery (Städtischer Friedhof Schöneberg III) further along Stubenrauchstraße where Sieglinde lives, and I cleared Jurgen's grave of branches that had been brought down in the recent storms but generally it looked well cared for. The weather was too uninviting to hunt out Marlene Dietrich's grave, so we made our way to the Wild Caffè for coffee and cakes. We took the cakes to our seats but we finished them before the coffees arrived. It turned out the assistant had forgotten to make them! However they then arrived promptly together with a little nibble by way of apology.
5 Apr. Sunday.
This morning we went to the Baptist meeting where we were made very welcome. There was an Easter meal round tables in the church before the service began and we stayed for a while talking afterwards before and walked to the nearby Nuova Mirabella where we treated ourselves to spectacular flaming crêpes suzettes prepared at our table. As the weather was fine and we found ourselves in the heart of Alt-Tempelhof, we decided to take a stroll through the Alter Park. This had been laid out around the Klarensee, a lake that had formed in the remains of a glacial hollow and was purchased as a public park by the Tempelhof community in 1907. It is dominated by the Dorfkirche Tempelhof, the largest and oldest of the village churches of Berlin, built around 1250 for the Knights Templar, from which the district of Tempelhof gets its name. It was largely destroyed during the War and rebuilt with a different shaped tower but the park remains very picturesque and is very popular with joggers as it is linked to other parks nearby. There were many families out on Easter Sunday and children kids hunted Easter eggs in the gardens.
6 April, Monday.
It is an Easter national holiday in Germany as in England and as the weather was not brilliant and we wanted to avoid the crowds we did not venture out but caught up on domestic matters and I worked on my presentation at the Redruth conference in June.
7 April, Tuesday.
In the afternoon Sieglinde had an appointment in the orthopaedic centre in Steglitz. As in England they seem to have the system of gathering everyone together and the settling the order by triage After the Easter break the centre was very full and we had a three hour wait but the doctor was very sympathetic ad agreed that an operation was not necessary. It was 18:30 before we were let out for coffee and cakes in the Schwartsche Villa near the orthopaedic centre. We reached home to find that our birthday card to Jeev had been returned as it had been wrongly stamped.
8 April, Wednesday.
We returned to pick up on the shopping in Steglitz we were unable to complete yesterday, first to get cash from the bank, then somewhere to buy stamps as we discovered that the post office in Steglitz no longer sold stamps. Eventually someone directed us to a lotto shop where we ascertained that, while the card was light enough one of the dimension was 1 cm too great, so we had to pay 3.30 € instead of 1,80 €. Sieglinde wanted to kit me out for summer so we acquired two pair of light trousers and a top in Uniolo in Schloßstraße. I was rewarded by coffee and cake back in Schwartzsche Villa, after which walked in the park, but I did not escape the massive food shop. Good that there is a bus virtually door to door.
9 April, Thursday.
As it was another fine day we agreed that we should renew our acquaintance with Krumme Lanke, that picturesquely named lake that we had visited briefly as a cold night descended on us during my previous visit to Berlin. This time we actually went right down to the lakeside.
10 April, Friday.
At noon Sieglinde had a health appointment in the sanatorium where a doctor friend worked. She agreed that an operation on her spine should be avoided at all costs and wrote prescriptions for pain-killing medicines until an appointments with a proper course of pain therapy could be set up. She also said that Sieglinde should get registered as requiring care. Depending on the care level, monthly benefits would be paid and there was better access to services, including a wider choice of sheltered housing or care homes. However a home visit would be needed, and she stressed that Sieglinde should not appear to be too compos mentis. She would arrange for a relator to be stored in the basement, to be brought up when the assessment visit was announced, and a good supply of incontinence pants should be visible on the day. She gave us a large pack to take with us, rather awkward as we wanted to go for a coffee in Unter den Linden on the way home, so we entered Café Einstein brandishing a large pack of thirty Tena protection pants as we had no bag large enough to conceal them. The whole day had been somewhat surreal. The meeting was protracted as we were continuously interrupted by the care staff, coffee was ordered because the rather dishy male student doing a holiday job on reception would have to bring it up, and Sieglinde did not feel that she needed such assistance at present although she might at some time in the future. It made us both pause for thought in our ninth decade.
11 April, Saturday.
Each day beings very different experiences. For several years Sieglinde has been supporting Freunde in der Not (Friends in Need), a charity that champions human rights in Iran. We were invited as supporters to an event to celebrate Nowruz, the Iranian new year festival which starts on the spring equinox and lasts for thirteen days.
It was to include musical performances videos, speeches and a meal for the hundred or more guests present. There were also displays in the large church hall in Dahlem detailing the colourful traditions of a celebration that goes back well beyond the Islamic period to the Zoroastrian culture of the first millennium BCE. There were also panels relating to recent successes in which Friends in Need had played a part, including the release of two human rights activists. It was appropriate that it was held as the cease-fire discussions were being held in Pakistan. Great hopes were with the National Council of Resistance of Iran and Maryam Rajavi, the president-elect who had spoken at the United Nations.
13 Apr. Monday.
In the afternoon we visited the Berliner Dom to see an exhibition by the Neue Bachgesellschaft on the occasion of their 125th anniversary and the 100th Bachfest, due to take place in Leipzig later in the year. We had to buy tickets to get into the Cathedral and once inside it was difficult to find out where the exhibition was. We were given earphones and waved toward the staircase and lifts and were told it was on the third floor which turned out to be the Cathedral Museum which held models, plaster casts and designs for mosaics and decoration for the Cathedral, which was built between 1894 and 1905 for Kaiser Wilhelm II, after an unsuccessful start had been made in the middle of the 19th century. Interesting as it was, there was no sign of the Bach exhibition but an attendant told us that it was on the second floor, where we joined the very few visitors that had been able to find it. It was a small display with half a dozen panels, cases with old festival programmes and manuscripts and two video displays enlivened (?) by animated engraved characters which jarred with the serious messages they sought to convey on the Brandenburg concertos and the St Matthew Passion.
14 April, Tuesday.
I was sent out to the pharmacy to collect medicines for Sieglinde. A new assistant had problems in finding some of the medicines and there was a long and loud discussion about one item in front of growing queues of customers. I was thankful that I was a man, and not a local, otherwise it could have been embarrassing rather than amusing, so I went off to acquire my free 11th coffee in the nearby Wild Caffè. I noticed that there was a poster for an archive sale of photographs of the works of the artist Sabine Wild and wondered whether there was any connection. I discovered that the premises had been her studio from 2009 to 2012 when her twin brother Andreas had opened the café there. In November 2024 Andreas had to give up the café because of illness and he died the following August. She could not bear to close the Wild Caffè and keeps it going with a team of about ten helpers, cooking the vegan soups her brother had made so popular. It is good to have this background to such a friendly, somewhat alternative community centre, which Sieglinde never knew about – on her doorstep but hidden round a corner.
Today I booked my return flight for 24 April, a mere £68.54 for myself and an under-seat bag, much less than the Eurostar ticket from Brussels to London and much quicker, much as I dislike the environmental impact of air travel. I also contacted DNH Construction, the firm contracted by the insurers to repair Julie's wall, demolished in Topsham by a hit-and-run driver. They hope to do it on Tuesday 28 April.
16 April, Thursday.
In the morning Sieglinde had an appointment with the orthopaedic clinic in Steglitz. This time the waiting room was empty and we were soon seen by the son of the clinician who had previously advised against an operation. He provided contradictory advice, saying that pain therapy cured nothing and she could be taking painkillers and having injections indefinitely.
It was a lovely day and we decided to catch the S-Bahn to Wannsee and then the bus to the Liebermann Villa. On my last visit we had arrived too close to closing time, but the summer opening hours meant we had more time, and a welcoming café on the terrace where we could talk over the best course of action. We came to no firm conclusion, tending towards avoiding an operation.
17 April, Friday.
We took a taxi to Sieglinde's physiotherapy appointment in Alt-Tempelhof and I waited for her in Al Salvatore, working on the Redruth talk. Later in the afternoon we joined Micky in Nuova Mirabella for a meal.
18 Apr. Saturday.
A whole series of palaces and parks in Potsdam and the neighbouring part of Berlin are linked together as a single UNESCO World Heritage Site. Among them is Pfaueninsel (Peacock Island), a favourite haunt of Sieglinde and Hubert, an idyllic sounding place I wanted to visit.
We caught the S-Bahn to Wannsee and caught the 218 bus which made its way slowly along a narrow road through woods to a landing stage by the River Havel. While access to the island is free, although bicycles and dogs are not allowed, there is a modest charge for the ferry, which was packed, although they were soon dispersed across the 67 hectares of the island.
In the late 17th century it was called Kaninchenwerder ("Rabbit Island") after a rabbit breeding station set up by Elector Friedrich Wilhelm I of Brandenburg. From 1685, he gave the chemist Johann Kunckel financial aid to build a glass foundry in the east of the island. In 1689, the foundry was destroyed by a fire, and Kunckel left in 1692 for Stockholm. The island remained unused until, in 1793, the Prussian king Friedrich Wilhelm II acquired the island and had the Pfaueninsel castle built for himself and his mistress Wilhelmine Enke in 1794–97.
It was placed on the western tip of the island, visible from the king's residence at the Marmorpalais in Potsdam and was designed as a summer residence for the King in the form of a ruinous gothick folly. Around it an English garden was created, including a dairy shaped like a gothic revival church.
Friedrich Wilhelm III, turned the island into a model farm and in 1821–34 had the park redesigned with a menagerie housing exotic animals including alligators, buffalos, kangaroos, monkeys, chameleons, wolves, eagles, lions, lamas, bears, beavers and peacocks. The number of animals peaked at over 900, from over 100 species. Friedrich Wilhelm was fond of his animals, often feeding them personally. He also made his collection accessible to the people of Berlin which created such an onslaught on the small island, that from 1821 the public was allowed on the island only three days a week. Friedrich Wilhelm IV transferred all the animals, except the peacocks, to the Berlin Zoo in 1844.
The Palmenhaus ("House of Palms") was erected in 1831 and was praised by explorer Alexander von Humboldt. It caught fire in 1880 and burnt to the ground. It was not rebuilt, but we could see the stone columns that trace the outline of the building as we wandered the paths of the peaceful gardens.
But this Arcadian landscape also has its dark shadow. On 15 August 1936, the Nazi government celebrated the closing of the 1936 Olympic Summer Games on the island, with fireworks and an Italian Night party with a thousand invited guests.
Mad journey home. Man in Seehase. Elderly man cornered us and began to speak about the Wannsee promenade and rats
19 April, Sunday.
We had to order a taxi to the Baptist service, but still arrived late and opened the doors as the reading was being given. We were told “enter and welcome”. I was about to respond and apologise for being late when I realised it was only part of the lesson for the day, the parable of the talents (Matthew 25), so followed Sieglinde to our seats and listened to the sermon that followed. I felt sorry for the servant who had buried his single talent in the ground and received the wrath of his master. Christ too assigned him to the goats rather than the sheep, saying “Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels!” (Matthew 25:41 King James’s version) – and that simply because his Standard Life investment risk level was “lower”. My financial advisor certainly never spoke to me like that when I plumped for that risk level. Later in the service, I stood up and joined in the hymns, noting from the screen that the texts were ©2020, so almost traditional. There were snacks afterwards, welcome as we had had no time for breakfast.
Coffee was not available in the church however, as the water supply was being renovated, and Moses was not around to lift up his hand, and with his rod smite a nearby rock twice to make the water come out abundantly for the congregation to drink, and their beasts also (Numbers 20:11). So we joined a group of the congregation and adjourned to a nearby coffee house. Sieglinde had known most of them for many years, one lady, very stooped but bright as a button, had been on church outings with her in the 1950s. We actually discussed the sermon, which some had found too intellectual with the constant legalistic references to verses in the Bible and somebody pointed out that the lay preacher had worked in the Ministry of Justice before retirement. Then on to the weather and how late spring has come this year and how cold it had been, and finally the inevitable organ recital. The continuing refrain there, addressed to Sieglinde, was that she should avoid an operation at all costs. We took our leave and went a few paces along the street to the Nuova Mirabella where we had been two days previously with Micky. There Sieglinde had her regular dish, spaghetti aglio e olio, and I consumed my first pizza for some time with mushrooms and broccoli, washed down with spring water and a red Primitivo, and followed by coffee and limoncello to sweeten the bill. The weather forecast had promised rain all day but it held off until 3:00 when we were about to leave, and then arrived with a vengeance. The journey home by U-Bahn was another taste of Berlin eccentricity with one man dangling from the overhead handrail in the carriage like a monkey and another going down onto the railway tracks to pick up dog-ends.
21 April, Tuesday.
Today was a DBA-Tag (Drei-Buchstaben-Akronym), so a three-letter acronym (TLA) day. Because of Sieglinde's MRT scan at the MVZ in Wilmersdorf the other day, we saw a neurologist in Steglitz before the BVG took us to the KPM and then on to the KDW. All will be explained PDQ.
The appointment with the neurologist had indeed been arranged PDQ and was very thorough. Electrode pads were attached to her legs and readings taken which showed that no damage had been done to the nerves by the slipped discs and confirmed that an operation should not be necessary and the neurologist wrote out a report that can be taken to the hospital tomorrow for a programme of pain control to be put in place.
Sieglinde had found the examination quite painful but was determined to drag me on a shopping spree for various presents. The Berliner Verkehrsbetriebe Gesellschaft BVG provided the train service to the Königliche Porzellan-Manufaktur (KPM). Sieglinde had over the years acquired many of their products including a large dinner service in the Kurland design, commissioned in 1790 by Peter von Biron, Duke of Courland, one of the greatest successes of the manufactory, and now she intended to buy a wedding present there. We were softened up by tea and cakes, offered while she perused the catalogue (and price list!). We were perched on top of the original pottery kilns which were used as display cases and a museum tracing the history of KPM which goes back to 1751, although it was only purchased by Frederick the Great in 1767 - he described himself as the firm's best customer, ordering for his palaces alone 21 dinner services, each with 36 place settings and up to 500 separate parts, and there were diplomatic presents to the court of the tsars in Russia and on the tables of European aristocracy. Sieglinde could not rival that but purchased two tea sets for the lucky couple.
We did not have time to look round the museum - a future visit, perhaps but to complete our TLA day we stepped inside the Kaufhaus des Westens, KaDeWe, a Thai-owned department store in which is apparently the second-largest in Europe after Harrods in London. We assume the new Thai owners will be less controversial in Berlin than the Egyptian Al-Fayed family were London and Paris.
22 April, Wednesday.
We had an appointment with the chief neurologist at the Immanuel Krankenhaus, Wannensee at noon today and actually arrived only twenty minutes late, just at the time when Sieglinde's name was called. Sieglinde had taken the CD of the MRT scan with her and he examined it carefully and explained that an operation would be necessary, which was a routine keyhole job with three days in hospital and no rehab required. He carried out several such routine jobs a day, and would do Sieglinde's at another hospital after a pre-op appointment with the anaesthetist whenever she was ready. It turned out that they shared friends in the Berlin medical profession, ultimately going back through the many years Sieglinde had worked at the Charité hospital, and he was also softened by the chocolates she had brought.
It was over much sooner than expected so we went to talk it over with a coffee and Currywurst on a lakeside snack bar near the S-Bahn station. Despite being warned against an operation, Sieglinde had not looked forward to a lifetime of injections and painkillers while the root cause of the pain had not been tackled. We caught the train to Steglitz and even had time for a spot of food shopping in Edeka and caught the bus back in good time for the Exeter Civic Society committee meeting at 15:30 (14:30 in Exeter).
I was only there to make up a quorum and I joined a Teams meeting (the first I had experienced) with another committee member who also happened to be in Berlin at he same time as me. We were able to chat to each other on separate screens throughout but the main meeting in Exeter Central Library kept cutting out, even after we had started a second session once the first hour had elapsed. I eventually left the meeting and emailed my thoughts to the chairman. There was a full-day "Civic city revival" meeting planned for 17 July and I had expressed concern that there was no mention of heritage, culture or libraries, or indeed other areas such as transport and highways, education and child welfare, public health and social care which Exeter would be taking over from the County government after reorganisation into unitary authorities. I seem to have landed myself with a co-ordinating role for such a working group. [I have since heard that it has been postponed.]
23 April, Thursday.
Today was dedicated to a trip to Potsdam. Adi wanted to meet up as he was in Potsdam for conference, which proved impossible, but we decided to go anyway. The bus journey to Steglitz proved to be another act in Berlin's street cabaret. We sat near a jolly old man with no teeth who flourished a bottle of beer and engaged a series of tolerant women in conversation. We visited the PhoneDoctor in Steglitz to sort out my i-Phone which had gone black and white. They had some trouble, which somewhat comforted me, but had to be pressed to accept a contribution to their “coffee fund”. Our target in Potsdam was the Belvedere Castle on the Pfingstberg. Tram 94 took us from the main station to Puschkinallee, the nearest stop, but there was poor signposting, and we received differing advice from locals, including the postwoman. We picked a path that led through woods to reach the Alexander Nevsky Memorial Church is the oldest Russian Orthodox church in the country, built in 1826–1829 at the edge of the Russian colony of Alexandrowka, shining in its restored glory on top of the Kapellenberg hill.
We went inside to admire the iconostasis and made a donation to the two elderly Russian women who were on duty for a candle which we lit in memory of Jill and Hubert.
The Russian colony of Alexandrowka was named after Tsar Alexander I as a tribute to the strong ties between the Hohenzollern and Romanov families, name being chosen following the death of Tsar Alexander I in 1825. The colony was built in 1826-1827 by King Friedrich Wilhelm III of Prussia for the last twelve Russian singers in a choir that had previously 62 members, formed from soldiers captured in Russia during 1812 who remained in Potsdam. Further on through the woods the path passed by a few Russian style houses, although we seem to have missed the main part of the colony. On the other side of the path was a large Jewish cemetery and ahead of us loomed the Belvedere Castle on top of the Pfingstberg.
It was commissioned by King Friedrich Wilhelm IV of Prussia and built between 1847 and 1863 as a somewhat bombastic viewing platform. It was about to close but there were too many stairs anyway for Sieglinde to to get to the views.
We retraced our steps to Brandenburgstraße where we got off the tram for coffee, taken outside on the pavement. It had been a bright sunny day but with a chill wind. We were able to watch the Berlin street cabaret with a cast of idiosyncratic passers-by including woman cuddling an enormous phallus, and two giggly girls who collapsed in a heap in the road.
24 April, Friday.
Today is the birthday of Kent Kingdon, whose bequest in 1889 provided a generous fund for the purchase of books for the library and works of art for the gallery of the Royal Albert Memorial in Exeter. Under the terms of the will, the Trustees, of whom I am the Chairman, were to meet to select items to purchase. We still try to hold the AGM on or close to the old chap's birthday but this year it was not to be, and I sent an email aiming to reschedule in early May.
We started the day with a magnificent farewell breakfast with eggs, meat, salmon, fruit and ginger conserve on brown rolls washed down with English breakfast tea. As the flight was not until 21:35 we planned to go into the city centre with my rucksack, leave it in a museum locker and have afternoon tea in time to reach the airport around 19:30. In fact the day was so perfect with blue skies and no wind as we strolled along Unter den Linden that we went straight for the coffee and cakes at Café Einstein. We wanted a cream tea but with coffee. We were told firmly that this was not possible. Eventually the jobsworth waiter decided that we could order a coffee and a scone with clotted cream and jam separately which was in fact cheaper.
We caught the S-Bahn and bus to the airport where I left Sieglinde at 21:00 to go through security. At 21:35 Berlin time the Easyjet flight departed, landing in Bristol airport at 22:35 GMT. The arrivals section was being redeveloped resulting in interminable walks along passageways and up and down stairs. Although I had no hold luggage to wait for, I was lucky to get to the Falcon bus stand just as the 23:05 service was about to leave. It arrived at the Honiton Road Park and Ride in Exeter at 01:00 and, as the night was mild and dry, I decided to walk rather than order a taxi, arriving home by 02:00.
It has been another full month with Sieglinde and I hope that I had not put too much pressure on her. She was often in discomfort but walking seemed to help. We did not come to a definite conclusion about an operation. She did not feel up to returning with me, but hoped to be able to come over for the Redruth conference on 10-11 June and get to know a bit of Cornwall. We shall see.
