Our Berlin travel blog covers a short but memorable stay in Germany’s capital including stopping at Checkpoint Charlie (above).
Monday, May 25 โ Arrival
A five-hour train from Warsaw brings us across the German border and into a city with an entirely different energy. Berlin is bigger, louder, and more alive than anywhere we’ve been in weeks. If we’re being honest, it was a bit overwhelming at first โ in the best possible way.
For reasons neither of us could quite explain, Leonard Cohen’s First We Take Manhattan had been running through our heads for days. Arriving in Berlin felt like finally getting to the punchline.
First Impressions of Berlin
Meg had been carrying an image of Berlin since high school, when a friend who’d grown up in West Berlin described a city cut in two โ divided streets, abandoned subway stations that trains rumbled through without stopping. That version of Berlin lived in her memory as a somewhat shadowed place. What she found instead, stepping out into a hot May afternoon under one of the bluest skies imaginable, was a city that felt anything but. Modern architecture, a vibrant pulse, and an unmistakable sense of freedom.
We arrived at the hotel an hour ahead of schedule, and the receptionist โ coincidentally named Michaela โ had a room ready and even produced a bottle of water typically reserved for elite members. Small kindnesses land differently after a long travel day. We took an hour to decompress, then headed out into the city. An evening walk took us through Alexanderplatz and around Museum Island, dinner found us in the Hackescher Markt area โ on a patio, listening to a busker, watching the world go by. It being Monday, we found a spot with a vegetarian burger, keeping our meatless Monday streak very much intact.
What struck us immediately was how young Berlin felt. Not young in age, of course, but in spirit. Sidewalk patios were packed, cyclists streamed past in every direction, and nearly every public square seemed to have someone playing music, sharing a drink with friends, or simply enjoying the evening. It wasn’t the Berlin either of us had imagined. For a city so closely associated with twentieth-century history, it felt remarkably forward-looking โ energetic, creative, and comfortable in its own skin.
Evening Wandering – A Berlin that is Lively
As we wandered through Alexanderplatz and around Museum Island, we found ourselves recalibrating our expectations. The Berlin of divided streets and concrete barriers had long since given way to something different. History was still present, but it no longer defined every moment. Instead, it felt like a city that had learned how to live alongside its past rather than be trapped by it.
That said, any illusion of having boundless energy was quickly put to rest. Five hours on a train sounds easy enough โ you just sit there โ but the travel tax is real and it always collects. We turned in early.
Tuesday, May 26 โ The Big Sites Day
We were out the door just after eight. Meg had reserved Bundestag tickets before we left Canada, which turned out to be a very good thing โ English-language tours in June are scarce, with only three days available the entire month. After clearing security and presenting our passports, we were met by our guide for a ninety-minute walk through one of Europe’s more remarkable legislative buildings.
Inside the Bundestag – Germany’s Legislature
The Bundestag shares some things with the Parliament buildings back home, but it carries its own distinct weight. The guided tour gave us access to areas not generally open to the public: walls still marked with Russian graffiti from the fall of Berlin in 1945, the library holding minutes from every sitting since 1949, and a quiet non-denominational chapel. The tour ends at the glass dome โ a panoramic lookout that sits directly above the parliamentary chamber, the transparency entirely intentional. With the weather cooperating, we could see across the city for miles.
What impressed us most was how deliberately the building embraces transparency. The dome isn’t simply an architectural feature; it’s a statement. Visitors quite literally look down into the parliamentary chamber below, a reminder that government is meant to remain visible to the people it serves. Even for those with only a passing interest in politics, the symbolism is hard to miss. The building manages to acknowledge Germany’s complicated history while looking confidently toward the future.
From there, the Brandenburg Gate. The last remaining gate of the old city walls, and a piece of living history in its own right โ Napoleon dismantled it and carted it to Paris after his conquest, only for it to be returned two years later when he was defeated. History, returned by courier.
Crossing the Divide – Checkpoint Charlie
Then Checkpoint Charlie โ the last Allied checkpoint before the Soviet sector. The small booth, still surrounded by sandbags, feels oddly out of place against the now-bustling neighbourhood around it. It was busy when we visited, and yes, a little gimmicky. But it’s hard to stand there and not try to imagine what crossing that line once meant.
A quick lunch โ and we’ll leave it at that โ except to say that Meg had her heart set on a currywurst, a Berlin institution we felt duty-bound to try. Cam was less enthusiastic going in, and the verdict upon finishing confirmed his instincts. Some culinary experiences are about the story rather than the flavour. This was one of those.
From there we made our way to what turned out to be the most affecting stop of the day: the Berlin Wall Memorial. What remains of the wall stands in a peaceful green space, almost parklike in its calm. That contrast โ the open sky, the birdsong, the plaques listing those who died trying to cross โ is quietly devastating. It takes a moment.
The Berlin Wall Memorial
Unlike many historic sites that have become polished tourist attractions, the memorial feels restrained. There are no dramatic recreations and very little spectacle. Instead, visitors are simply presented with the facts, the preserved sections of wall, and the stories of those who lost their lives trying to cross from East Berlin to the West. The effect is powerful precisely because it is understated.
Standing there, it was difficult not to reflect on how recently all of this occurred. The Berlin Wall fell in 1989 โ well within living memory. Many of the people walking through the memorial today experienced a divided Berlin firsthand. That realization gives the site a different weight. This isn’t ancient history; it is history that still feels close enough to touch. We remembered an old phrase we’d heard years ago: people voted with their feet. Looking at the memorial, it wasn’t hard to understand why.
Cam continued on alone for a bit, stopping into St. Hedwig’s Cathedral โ the first Roman Catholic church built in Prussia after the Reformation. The interior is strikingly minimalist, with the altar positioned in the centre of the space rather than at the far end. The organ, fashioned entirely from stainless steel, is something else. He spent some time there, in no particular hurry.
We reunited for a last evening out โ Thai food, alfresco, in a restaurant with an outdoor courtyard. A fine way to close Berlin.
Wednesday, May 27
We packed up, checked out, and made our way to the train station for the journey to Warnemรผnde, where our cruise ship was waiting. We’ll confess: Berlin probably deserved more of our time than we gave it. The biggest surprise was how optimistic the city felt. We arrived expecting history and found plenty of it, but we left remembering the energy, openness, and sense of possibility that seemed to be everywhere. Two months of near-constant travel has a way of blurring the edges. But the cruise offered something we were genuinely ready for โ one suitcase, unpacked once, for nine days. We were ready for that.
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Cam and Meg.