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Brandenburg and Potsdam
Thursday, September 12 2024
location: cabin 105, Swiss Ruby river boat, Port of Brandenburg, Brandenburg, Germany
Today was our last full day on the cruise, and it was jam-packed with things to see that made our 18 hour (or was it more) docking in Burg look like a prison sentence by comparison. We woke up in Brandenburg an der Havel, the city after which the whole state of Brandenburg was named (it's often also referred to simply as "Brandenburg"), and after breakfast, Gretchen and I hurriedly made our way to a few things of interest she'd noted on the map. (I completely outsource the planning of such outings to her, so they reflect her tastes more than mine. But I'm much less fussy about experiences than she is, so it makes good sense for me not to be doing such planning.) We were on a tight schedule, as we would only be docked in Brandenburg about two hours.
The first thing we made it to was St. Catherine's, a huge church that didn't appear to have any front door at all (we went around the whole thing looking for one), and it clearly wasn't open for the public. It was remarkable for the alternating colors of brickwork and numerous eyebrow windows in the roof. From there we walked southwest to a notable crenulated tower, but far more interesting was a war memorial nearby. Seeing the squat bronze army men at the base of an obelisk, I wondered what possible war memorial could be erected in Germany. But then we we got closer to it and saw an inscription in cyrillic, it was clear that this was a memorial to Soviet soldiers. I'd be curious what exactly the Germans of Brandenburg think of the memorial. But evidently they aren't hostile enough to it to tear it down. (Like Burg, Brandenburg lies within the borders of the old East Germany, so any efforts to remove this memorial would've had to come after German reunification in the 1990s.)
We then hurried across town to the north, crossing a bride called the Jahrtausenbrücke and then walking as far as Plauer Str., where we found yet another tower and two amusing human sculptures. Then, on the walk back to the boat, we encountered all four of the Swedes we'd been periodically socializing with on this cruise.
The boat was docked in a fairly large body of water that suggested a harbor, though it was part of a tangle of rivers and canals connected to the Havel River. I tried to take a picture that included both a pair of sunning cormorants and a swan, but the swan wasn't cooperating.
During lunch, our boat navigated towards Potsdam via the Havel. Meanwhile, our gang was sitting in the port-side frontmost booth in the dining room and I was eating the African-style peanut stew (it was very good). Much to Gretchen's irritation, Dave joined us again, and he was again soliciting our reactions to one of his annoying hypotheticals.
As we approached Potsdam, I kept trying to photograph the numerous coots (sometimes with a few mallards sprinkled here and there) I could see in the river, though none of these turned out. I had better luck photographing a castles and turrets, some of which resembled Walt Disney creations in their goofy lankiness.
When our boat was docked in Potsdam, Gretchen and I were among the first to leave the boat. We then made a beeline across town towards Pedales, a little mom and pop bike shop that rented bikes (which seemed easier and less stressful than trying to unlock rental bikes with our phones, especially given the sketchy availability of WiFi). The guy at Pedales was super nice and even talked us down from renting far more expensive e-bikes, telling us that Potsdam isn't particularly hilly. He also gave us a discount, since we would only be able to rent our bikes for three hours. (In total the bike rental came to twenty euros for both bikes). These bikes were lightweight seven-speeds, very similar to the bikes we'd rented in Copenhagen.
Our first destination was St. Nikolaikirche Potsdam, a domed structure that looked like a state capitol. Inside, the ornamentation was fairly sparse, looking like it had maybe been done in the 1960s by the East German government. A massive stained-glass window was just a simple grid of colored squares, making me wonder if this was an atheist-minded replacement for a window destroyed by the allies in World War II. There were a few other monumental structures in the courtyard out front, including an obelisk.
Next we pedaled to the east edge oof a sprawling parkland dotted with all sorts of historical artifacts. The first of these we checked out was the Friedenskirche, which featured a couple of stunning sculptures in the courtyard and along the covered walkway. One of these was a massive marble statue of Moses, complete with rectangular beams of light coming out of his head. I told Gretchen that it was a bit of a surprise that Moses, the most famous of the Jews, survived the Nazis completely intact. When we went into the chapel (which had been decorated in a surprisingly Byzantine style), Gretchen remarked ot the woman working as an attendant that it was surprising that the statue of Moses had survived WWII. Gretchen intended this to mean "survived the Nazis," but the woman apparently interpreted this as "survived the allied bombing." Her response was that "it was safe here." Gretchen left it at that.
Further to the northwest along a paved walkway, we came to one of the biggest attractions of Potsdam, Sanssouci, Frederick the Great's summer palace. It's a squat, wide rococo building with a low dome, but the most remarkable thing about it is not the building but the terraces below it covered with grapes and figs. (It being Germany, the figs are housed in small niches behind glass, all of which are south-facing.) There's also the obligatory fountain and even a meandering stream at the very bottom of the terraced hill, and it's full of swans, mallards, and mandarin ducks. Something about this quirky arrangement was partially explained when I later read Frederick the Great's biography and learned that he was almost certainly gay. As we approached this spectacle, Kelly and Brian, who had walked here from the boat and were hiding behind a bush, sprung out to surprise us. They went off to look at a dramatic old-style windmill while Gretchen and I climbed the terraces to have a good look at the palace. I was struck by a black grime that partially covered the many humanoid statues sprouting from the roofline and serving as brackets to support the soffits.
We got back on our bikes and continued westward through the park, stopping briefly to marvel at the outside of an oriental-themed pavilion (Chinesisches Haus) whose depictions of Asian peoples hasn't exactly aged gracefully. The farthest west we went was the Neues Palais (New Palace), a huge and ridiculously ornate building set amidst a now-unmowed lawn. Something about the long grass made the place look post-apocalyptic. Across the promenade from the palace was another palace-like building that was actually part of the University of Potsdam.
From there, Gretchen had us bike back eastward with some goal in mind. But we found ourselves climbing a gentle grade, and Gretchen was getting tired. Perhaps we should've rented the e-bikes. When we got back into the heart of Potsdam, it was approaching 6:00pm, so Gretchen decided it was best we return our bikes and walk back to the boat. This time we avoided crossing a major roadway (the Lange Brücke Bundesstraße 2) by instead walking underneath a bridge on a walkway along the waterfront.
We got to the boat's lounge just in time for the ritual that takes place on the night before the cruise ends. It's a festive ritual, complete with a small amount of complimentary alcohol, designed to encourage passengers to leave generous tips. The various employees (and there were surprisingly few on this boat) were paraded in front of us while the cruise's musician (a mediocre pianist who'd played a dinky synth stacked atop a closed grand piano keyboard, cycling through a limited number of songs that included "Achey Breaky Heart" and Miley Cyrus' "Flowers") served as DJ to occasionally play blasts of "Simply the Best." Gretchen was a little irritated that she was one of the few people giving a standing ovation (something I wasn't doing), but come on, it's best to reserve that for true heroes!
The woman leading this ceremony was the blond woman who'd been the head of the non-navigational staff, the very person with whom Gretchen first argued on the first morning about vegans' love of gluten. She wasn't making any of us happy this evening by talking about how "hard" it had been to organize a fully-vegan cruise. We signed up for a fucking vegan cruise, and she signed up to work on it, presumably with her eyes wide open. I should mention that none of our boat homies were there with us at this ceremony. They've seen it all before, and the lure of a single free flute of ros´ wasn't much of an incentive.
But the members of our gang (and only the members of our gang, sorry Dave & Liz!) were all there at our favorite booth (the frontmost port one) for the final dinner of the cruise. I only had a little bit of smuggled wine left, so this time Brian bought a bottle of legitimate wine from the boat itself. Later, though, the waiters came around with small complimentary snifters of brandy, which nobody at our table wanted. So I ended up drinking three of them, since booze is totally my jam. Dinner conversation focused for a surprisingly long time on birds. We trying to figure out what these beefy crow-sized birds were that had the coloration of jackdaws and strolled down Potsdam's streets like pigeons. Someone had figured out that they are hooded crows. We then talked about other birds, particularly tits (since all of us are devious eight-year-olds at heart). I mentioned that an important tit back in North America is called a "chickadee," which, coincidentally, was the name of a vegan-orientated dial-in bulletin board that Dave had mentioned belonging to as part of his effort to cement in our minds how long he has been vegan. Another topic of discussion was some sort of Abba reunion tour in which holograms of the members as they were in the 1970s perform their classic songs. Cathy insisted it was amazing.
Later we all went upstairs to the lounge and continued talking and drinking (I had one of those tall, pale German lagers). For awhile we were joined by the French vegan chef who had served as the cruise's head chef, having developed his sea-based vegan cooking skills skills working for Sea Shepherd. He'd done a very good job, of course, though I mentioned I'd brought ghost peppers, as I'd expected food on a German riverboat to be bland. The chef said he himself liked spicy food, so I gave him an intact ghost pepper that I happened to have in my pocket.
Meanwhile the mediocre pianist was cycling through his usual Cyrus-heavy playlist. But when he started playing an Abba song, everyone got really excited (especially the Swedes). Before long, a conga line had formed, though by then I'd slipped off to our cabin. Gretchen later said that conga lines are very fun to be in but are ridiculous to anyone viewing them from the outside.
Eyebrow windows on St. Catherine's Church in Brandenburg.
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Crazy brickwork St. Catherine's Church in Brandenburg.
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Pigeons taking advantage of niches in the wall of Catherine's Church in Brandenburg.
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Clockface on St. Catherine's Church in Brandenburg.
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Beautiful avian windvane atop a tower in Brandenburg.
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Soviet war memorial in Brandenburg.
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Gretchen with a whimsical humanoid sculpture on Plauer Str. in Brandenburg.
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A tall metal scuplture near Ratskeller on Plauer Str. in Brandenburg.
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Plauer Torturm on Plauer Str. in Brandenburg.
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Brandenburg "harbor" near our boat. Note the cormorants.
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A mute swan near our boat.
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A beautiful view from the boat near Brandenburg.
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A Disneyesque castle as we approached Potsdam.
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A castle turret viewed from the boat as we approached Potsdam.
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When I saw this large bird perched on a rooftop as we entered Potsdam, I thought it was a bird of prey. But it's a hooded crow.
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Newer buildings near where we docked in Potsdam.
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The square outside St. Nikolaikirche Potsdam.
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Inside St. Nikolaikirche Potsdam. Note the non-religious stained glass.
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An obelisk outside St. Nikolaikirche Potsdam.
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A whimsical castle-style gate in Potsdam.
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A statue of Jesus in the Friedenskirche courtyard in Potsdam.
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A statue of Moses (and friends) in the Friedenskirche courtyard in Potsdam.
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Manadarin ducks in the creek in front of Sans Souci.
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Swans and mallards in the creek in front of Sans Souci.
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Figs (behind glass) and grapes in the vinyard in front of Sans Souci.
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A view down the terraces from the Sans Souci palace.
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A sculpture with a penis at Sans Souci palace.
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A decorative enclosure, one that couldn't keep out the wind or the rain, at Sans Souci palace.
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An old-style windmill near Sans Souci palace.
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The overly-gilded and somewhat-culturally insenstive Chinesisches Haus in Potsdam. Gretchen is reading the sign next to that cyclist wearing a helmet.
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The New Palace in Potsdam. Note the unmowed grass.
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The University of Potsdam near the New Palace.
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