The summer palace
With my weekly pass, I can use not only the city's public transport, but also the national railway, as long as I stay within the boundaries of the card that I purchased. It takes about 45 minutes to get to Potsdam by S-Bahn, but only 25 by regional train.
I caught the next regional train and experienced a really wonderful ride. Trains run to Potsdam every half hour. On their way to a town farther west. Regional train traffic is busy, with frequent service to just about anywhere you might want to go.
The regional trains are “double decked,” Sitting in the upper deck gives a nice outlook onto the passing countryside. Seats are comfortable, similar to those in commuter jets, but without the ability to recline. The ride is unbelievably quiet.
I had tried to get out early, since I have to be back, at Martin's house, by around 6:00 for dinner. Not entirely successful in that endeavor, I was on the train at 9:17 and in Potsdam by about 9:45.
There were huge crowds at the bus stop at the Potsdam Hauptbahnhof. The first bus that came filled up completely, leaving scores of people on the platform. I asked the driver before he closed the door if any other route goes to the palace, and he directed me to the 965, due in about 7 minutes.
I was surprised at how far it is from the Hauptbahnhof to the city center. Usually the train station – especially in small towns – is at or near the city center. The bus route went through the center and out the other side of town to reach the Sanssouci palace grounds. I found the ticket office, and I bought a day pass to all the palace holdings. I knew I wouldn't see everything, but it would still be more cost-effective to buy this admission.
They give appointments to enter the palace, since the numbers are so large. My admission was scheduled for about 10 minutes later.
I took my audio guide in German again. I guess that I understand 80% of the lecture. I stop the recording occasionally to look up a word that I can't figure out from context. Waiting for my turn I strolled the perimeter. The “front lawn” of the Sanssouci palace is a Weinberg (literally: wine hill/mountain). Freidrich the Great was a wine lover and connoisseur, and he had a wine cellar that held hundreds of bottles of wine from all over, including his own vineyard.
The Germans call a vineyard “Weinberg” because in Germany all vineyards are on the south-facing slopes of hills. It's too cold to grow grapes in Germany if they don't take full advantage of the sun in that fashion.
The floors of most of the palaces I saw today were not covered with carpets to protect them from traffic. Instead, visitors are required to wear felt slippers to avoid damaging the floors. There are floors of wood and of marble. Some of the marble floors have beautiful inlaid designs of multiple-colored marble. Frederick was from Schlesin (Silesia) where marble is produced, and he wanted to show his solidarity with the homeland.
One of the rooms of the new palace was unique in its wall decoration. All the walls and much of the ceiling and many columns were made of inlaid shells of oysters, mussels, and snails. The mother-of-pearl radiance was impressive, and the sheer number of shells and the designs that were made of them was a sight.
Friedrich der Grosse (Frederick the Great) was close with contemporary artists and thinkers. He was a patron of the arts, a musician and composer, and (for a monarch of his time) a relatively liberal thinker. Voltaire spent considerable time at the Sanssouci palace as a guest. In particular the two of them would play word games. Here is an example of a coded message that Freddy sent Voltaire one day:
| P |
| 6 |
| -- | à | ----- |
| à |
| 100 |
À sous P à cent sous six
(A under P at 100 under six)
If you said it right, it would have sounded more or less like:
“à souper à Sanssouci”
or, in other words the king was inviting Voltaire:
“To dine at the palace”
In case you don't remember what I said on previous occasions: I think it would be nice if these European palaces would show how the servants lived, what they did, where they hung out waiting for the lords and ladies to ring the bell, how they ate, how they prepared food or made clothes. At least in the US, when you visit a nobleman's palace (like Mt. Vernon) you get to see the slaves' quarters, and there's a docent who tells you about the slaves lives. At Williamsburg or Agrirama, the whole town functions much as it might have 250 or 150 years ago, respectively – albeit without the diphtheria, infant mortality, or potential starvation and on an 8-hour workday.
So Yoyi called me while I was touring the palace today, and while we were on the phone, I noticed a couple take a picture of themselves using the timer on their camera. That was a forehead-slapping moment; I had not remembered to do that for my entire trip. Do I feel dumb? By the way, did I mention how nice it is to get a call from my lovely wife?
It was getting late, so I rushed over to the site of the Potsdam conference of Stalin, Churchill, and Truman in 1945. It was at that conference that the victorious powers created a modern Germany and divided up the responsibility of overseeing it. It was to be united, but with 4-power (add France) oversight. It took only a couple of years before the Soviets made their zone a people's paradise. Then in 1948 they blockaded Berlin for 15 months, and the US mounted a massive airlift effort to bring everything, down to the everyday requirements like heating coal, saving the city from disaster.
This year they will celebrate the 60th anniversary of the end of the airlift. Coincidentally, they are also celebrating the 20th anniversary of the tearing down of the Berlin Wall.
Well, I didn't time my visit as perfectly as I had planned; I had to rush through the little palace where the meeting had taken place. I was unable to get on the return train at 5:00, which would have been just right. Instead, I had to take the train a half hour later, and that's exactly how late I arrived at Martin's. I called Martin from the streetcar to advise him that I was running a little late. Then to add insult, the connecting streetcar pulled away as we were approaching the transfer station. Sascho and Regina were just coming at the time I showed up; with them was the young man we had met in their garden on our previous visit to Berlin. (I have been reminded that it was 4 years ago.)
Sascho and Regina brought a bottle of Bulgarian wine for me to take home; he is Bulgarian, as I may have previously mentioned. Martin made a huge serving bowl of white asparagus. It's asparagus season in Germany, and everyone goes crazy for it. The farmers make dirt berms around the asparagus plants so that they never emerge into the light, and they stay white. If you ever get the chance to have these delicacies (especially here) you will understand why they love this time of year.
At the end of dinner, the three from across the street bid me farewell. Martin and I talked for another half hour or so, and then I said goodbye and left until the next time either they come to the States or I come back to Berlin.
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