The morning after our pub crawl came and after we’d blearily packed our bags and checked out of the hostel, we groggily made our way to Potsdamer Platz for a much needed hangover cure of whatever meaty dish was available.

Over a schnitzel and a burger, we remembered meeting two girls who looked remarkably similar to two girls we knew from Guildford.

More than just a coincidence, we remembered that these two sets of people were one and the same, and my phone buzzed with text messages and phone calls simply begging to experience our famous sightseeing tour.  Renowned for our incredible landmark-absorbing technique, we soon instructed the girls to meet us at  our brunch stop and we promised a whistle-stop trip around the stuff we’d seen and a slightly longer trip around the stuff we hadn’t seen.

Wandering down towards the Topography of Terrors, we remembered that for some reason other people like taking photos of each other in foreign locations, so stops were made to accommodate for this.

The Topography of Terrors, under construction, was to be a phenomenal exhibition housed in a revamped site on the former SS headquarters.  To be completed in 2010, we’d arrived a bit early, so we had to make do with reading the placards of SS members and detailed accounts of the organsational structure and rise to power of the Nazi Party outside.  In the sunshine.  Somehow, we coped.  The most disturbing thing I saw was the seemingly normal photos of people celebrating their birthdays, in mundane-looking meetings and conducting inspections, briefly forgetting that these SS members and Nazi Party officials were responsible for terrible atrocities.

Onto Kochstrasse on the metro, to wander to the West Berlin Starbucks and enjoy the delights of capitalist globalisation while the girls saw Checkpoint Charlie and equally reviled at the tourist feel to the place.

Picking a museum by cross-referencing Uncle Steel’s recommendation, our bible (The infallible ‘Rough Guide To Europe On A Budget’) and Jo’s ‘Top Ten: Berlin’, we picked a museum to go to from the vast array Berlin has to offer.  It was to be the Pergamon Museum.

Built entirely around housing the giant Ancient Greek Pergamon Altar, which was somehow recovered and transported to Berlin, we were given a detailed audio guide and spent a good while admiring the frieze around the base as well as learning the history behind its construction.

The incredible detail of the motifs on each piece were also something we baulked at.  The altar itself was understandably the main attraction, yet there was still a lot more to explore.

The museum had three more exhibitions, as well as the following structures:

• Market Gate of Miletus
• The Ishtar Gate and the Processional Way, Babylon
• The Mshatta facade

We had our work cut out.  The absolutely huge classical hulks of architecture made us feel just like ants.

Aside from the mammoth structures, one exhibition was simply entitled ‘Dionysus’, and told the story of the Greek god of, in a word, excess, and we learnt about the origins of his myth and the reason behind his differing depictions.  Along with the statues, there were also some pretty cool masks which were worn when carrying out the orgiastic drinking and revelry depicted on nearby pots.

Another wing was devoted to the brand new ‘Return Of The Gods’ exhibition, with a small variety of artifacts of each major classical deity, with an explanation of each god’s historical portrayal.  What wasn’t mentioned, however, was that Aphrodite was from Cyprus.  I was inconsolable.

Upstairs was the Islamic and Eastern Art exhibition, which had your standard fare of tapestries, crockery and colourful carvings.  Less predictable, however, was the entire recreation of an Aleppo Room recovered from across Syria and Jordan

Extremely modern, well-informed and well-thought out, the museum was an impressive insight into the classical world – not to be missed.  I was incredibly glad we’d picked this museum above all others, although my heritage might owe something to my favoured affinity with classical Greek mythology…

The most important initiation of all was about to take place for our wannabe-interthinkers:  beer o’clock.  Not greeting it with as much gusto as previously hoped, more photos were taken by the girls while we enjoyed a wheat-beer Paulaner.

Feeling a little peckish by this time from our alcohol intake and expended energy appreciating antiquities, we stopped at another important landmark:  Dunkin’ Donuts.

A six-pack was more than enough to tide the four of us over and it was soon time for the genders to separate.  Saying our goodbyes, boys went south and girls went north.

Returning to our hostel to pick up our bags from a Lady GaGa T-shirt-sporting Berliner (in every definition of the word), Uncle Steel arrived to take us out for dinner.  In a twist of generosity for his impending lift to the Hauptbahnhof, we bought his coffee for him.  We’re smarter than we look.

Returning to the remarkable Berlin station with its umpteen platforms and umpteen floors, we remarked on how nice it was to have our trip broken up by some friendly faces from home.  Oh, and we waxed lyrical to each other about how cool the station was.  Seriously, it’s a feat of engineering.  Ask Mr. Manners.

With my Uncle and our friends now just a distant memory and meeting a high-school couple from The Bronx, we boarded the couchette of our night train at 0032 for a well-deserved six hours of sleep.

Today we did what we do best and headed off into the Berlin wilderness for some culture. But before that was breakfast, which we couldn’t find anywhere as it was a Sunday. NS vetoed a Subway so onwards we went, eventually walking to the Kurfurstendamm, or ‘the K-dam’ to its friends.

Here were the remains of the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche Church. The old part of this building (please don’t make me spell it again) had been heavily damaged during WWII with only the tower remaining. It was decided to leave the ruins of the church as a reminder of the horrors of war and build a new church with the same name beside it. Both were great structures in their own right, the original in its imperial magnificence and the modern with a fantastically blue and calming glass interior.

But culture-vulturing cannot be sustained on an empty stomach so to Dunkin’ Donuts it was for a bagel and – surprise surprise – donuts for breakfast.  Onwards past the zoo and up to the western extremity of the Tiergarten (200 hectares of public forest/gardens).

We wandered through here (which took quite a while) and on the way saw the Victory Column/Monument, but due to a panoramic plethora the day before we decided against climbing it.

The time was approaching 1400 on an F1 race weekend, so we anxiously sped up through the Tiergarten and emerged at Potsdamer Platz.  Here, we thought, was the most likely place to catch the Grand Prix. As it turned out: it wasn’t. For a good 45 minutes we combed every bar, restaurant and culinary establishment but to no avail in the 7km we’d walked.

Eventually we gave up and ended up at the Gendarmenmarkt, where we had originally been amiming for – a very old and pretty square. Here we had a hot chocolate between the almost identical French and German Cathedrals. We later found out that less than 800m around the corner was a sports bar. Bugger.

After resting our weary legs, we took the U-Bahn to the East Side Gallery. However, what was meant to be 1.3 km of Berlin Wall with authentic street art became more along the lines of 1.3 km of ‘reconstructed’ graffiti – it all seemed a but fake and done for show, in a particularly grubby neighbourhood.  We did, however, stumble upon a nice-looking faux-beach bar, complete with sand and expensive drinks.

During our sojourn East, the NSphone rang and our communications with Interthink Special Guests Jo O’Malley and Sophie ‘Tolla’ Tolhurst commenced. We arranged to meet them later for dinner and a pub crawl (the acceptable social activity when you’re students). It was great to see friendly faces that you didn’t have to ask the same “So where are you from? Where have you been? Where are you going?” questions. Over pizza and pasta, anecdotes of each others’ adventures were shared and, soon we were off to the first bar for all-you-could-drink beer.

Despite NS offending the admittedly stand-offish bar crawl ticket sellers, the rest of the evening went well.  Jo was challenged to 16 Jaegermeisters and ‘triumphed’.

We went to various bars, as is customary in a ‘crawl’ and ended up in a train station on the northernmost side of the city.  This was apparently to get an S-Bahn train to the club but after half an hour the damn thing hadn’t turned up, so we arranged a meeting time for the next day with the girls and went our separate ways.

The girls managed to get one of these exceedingly rare S-Bahn trains and the Nicks queued for the night bus at the advice of the Deutsche Bahn night-lady. After more than just a while wait, attempting to translate the timetable and a Frenchman telling us the night bus wasn’t running, we got a taxi back to Jetpak, and thus our night ended.

Today was our first day of sightseeing in Berlin and had a lot of ground to cover.  We started off with Checkpoint Charlie – the main border control between East and West Berlin. Many stand-offs between the Ruskies and the British/American/Western forces occured here so we were expecting a fitting attraction.

What remains however is a large photo of a Russian soldier, a sign and a small wooden hut – complete with actors in various soldier costumes who could, if you so wished, stamp your passports for entry/exit into West Berlin. For a price, of course. Considering our last experience with Russians and border controls, these soldiers would have had to pry these passports from our cold, dead fingers.

Disappointed at this most blatant of tourist traps (including the >£10 small private museum) we moved onto stop two: Potsdammer Platz. This is now a thriving modern business/commercial district that had used to be no-man’s land between the East and West, and houses the attractive Sony Center. A short walk from this was meant to be the Führensbunker, where Hitler had lived out the last few days of the war. After much searching, we eventually found a sign that explained that the bunker had been effectively destroyed (by the Soviets) and was built over for flats and a car park.

Just beyond this was the striking Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, or The Holocaust Memorial. This is composed of 2711 concrete blocks that are all of differing sizes. This doesn’t sound particularly impressive but it is actually a very fitting memorial, something just feels right about it.  Each concrete block is coated with a special anti-graffiti lacquer which was entirely paid for by one of the companies who profited from the Nazis during WWII.

Beneath the monument is an underground museum that documents the passage of Jews from all over Europe who were murdered in various labour camps and ghettos.  Covering literally every country affected with raw statistics for every nation (ranging from three figures in some areas up to seven figures for Poland) as well as with touching personal stories. Some survived, most didn’t.  It made for bleak reading.  In the collection there was also the earliest surviving letter thrown from a train carriage which revealed that prisoners had started to realise that the ‘Final Soolution’ involved being gassed.

Afterwards we had some lunch nearby. A currywurst for me (a hot-dog with tomato sauce and curry power on it) plus a bratwurst for NS (your standard German sausage). Dunkin’ Donuts for pudding and we were off again in the direction of the Brandenburg Gate.

Although quite impressive as well as historically important… it it’s just a gate.  We therefore followed the road behind it – the green, tree-laden Unter Den Linden to eventually arrive east of our original position at Alexanderplatz (the central square of East Berlin).

On the way, we visited the Berlin Dom. Berlin’s cathedral was relatively recently (in church terms) restored, and it’s been a fantastic touch-up job.  Inside, it’s marvelously ornate fashion and, quite simply, huge. We went up the domed roof and after many steps were rewarded to a great panorama of Berlin before heading completely in the other direction to the crypt before continuing on our journey.

We completed the rest of the walk to Alexanderplatz and after being convinced to purchase some alcohol off the street by a bride-to-b as part of her hen party (these Germans, eh?) we decided one panorama was not enough. We queued forty minutes to go up the iconic TV Tower, and we weren’t disappointed by the view (at 206 or so meters up) but it was quite expensive at ten euros each.

The expense was regained by a dinner that was in a recommended burrito restaurant/canteen nearby. Although not totally sure what was being put in our burritos and quesadillas, it was very tasty for about five euros each, so we left full up and with a smile on our faces.

We got the U-Bahn back to Potsdammer Platz and joined the evening queue for the Reichstag – the German parliament building. Although it looked like one of the longest queues we’d seen this side of St. Petersburg, it only turned out to be about 45 minutes.  The entry was free, but was worth so much more.

A brief security search and a lift ride later, at 2130 we were at the base of the Lord Norman Foster (yes, the British architect!)-designed panoramic dome.  By now, we could see Berlin lit up in all its glory. Definitely the best panorama of the day, even though this was to be our third!

Furthermore we got a free audio guide that automatically triggered commentary as we went up the interior circular pathway of the dome. As we climbed above the roof terrace and looked out over the city we were given information on landmarks, the Reichstag itself and an overview as to how the German government operated with full openness and transparency. From all angles of the dome, you can see directly down into the plenary chamber through the central glass viewing area.

There was also a stack of mirrors for directing sunlight down into the plenary chamber from the dome and a sunshade that automatically moved with the sun to prevent glare into said chamber. This combined with many other energy-saving initiatives to make the Reichstag an incredible building and a very appropriate one for housing the government.

Three panoramas of the city done, we’d seen almost every angle of Berlin from a great height, and although the mythical bunker of Hitler and Checkpoint Charlie were little more than anti-climaxes, our day ended with the recommendation that visiting the Reichstag is a must.

Today we caught the train.

Early: at  0700. 

We got off the train.

Late: at 1800.

It was a long trip, very little happened in the intervening period, but I have to make a blog entry out of something, so here it goes:

Breakfast was the traditional ‘7 Days’ chocolate spread-filled croissant that was washed down with a healthy dose of sleep. At some point later (hours really did blur into each other) we read books (The Kite Runner for me, very good), magazines (finished the issue of Empire that had been teasing me for weeks) and played iPhone games (FlightControl!). Then we slept some more.

Lunch was a variety of cookies and sandwiches we had brought onboard and was more a boredom-relief measure than anything else…

…we slept a bit more…

…then NS disappeared off the the back of the train to take some pictures. Minutes later he returned with an awkward grin.

“I can’t shut the door,” he half snickers.  With sharp words I sent him on his way to sort it out as he had now made me accessory to manslaughter. It turns out that he had opened the back door of the train to take a photo like last year.

But this was not Romania and the doors are electric. So once they were pulled open, they would not shut.

He returned satisfied he’d made the train door toddler-proof and our journey continued…until the German boarder. Here, we incurred a mysterious delay as an army of DeutscheBahn technicians headed to the rear of the train with a variety of power tools – how curious!

We slept….

…until we arrived late in Berlin Hauptbanhof, a monumental building with many layers of train tracks running through it.

 We were met by Mr. Stylianou’s Uncle Steel and his son, George who gave us a lift to Jetpak Hostel, where we spent an inordinately long time checking in thanks to the overly chatty Australian masquerading as the receptionist. Afterwards we went for an Italian at a local restaurant and had a very pleasant dinner with good company.

After this, we were desperately flagging with travel fatigue, so we gave our thanks and headed back to the hostel for another very deep sleep.