In attempting to describe Berlin's landscape many turn to the communist era's crumbling concrete Wall or 19th century palaces still bearing the scars of WWII's final battles. Fewer, however, might mention the city's 180 kilometers of navigable waterways - the five rivers, six canals and dozens of lakes that surround, and sometime submerge, Berlin and its residents. These waters, however, form a major part of the natural amenities and have helped Berlin earn a reputation as one of Europe's greenest cities. Spring's warm breezes herald a return to the city's waterways, so this past weekend I joined friends for a floating tour along the Havel, one part of Berlin's watery wonderland.
Twenty minutes on the S1 S-Bahn line brought us to Wannsee, one of the area's largest lakes and, after buying sliced strawberries and bottled water at the station's grocer, we made the ten minute walk down to the "Schiffsanlegestelle". The Wannsee has been a warm weather retreat for generations of Berliners, with its large beach and leafy banks lined with elegant villas (including the notorious House of the Wannsee Conference in which the Nazis finalized plans for the Holocaust). We purchased our tour tickets for the Sieben-Seen-Rundfahrt, a two hour circuit around seven "lakes" formed by the river Havel, and then swung into line behind our fellow passengers at the pier.
Minutes later our craft floated up to the dock and, after generously allowing the previous tour's passengers to disembark, we charged aboard and grabbed seats at the ship's prow. Our ship was the MS Sperber, an old river cruiser owned by Star & Circle Lines, which has been sailing the Havel river since its construction in 1916. Her renovations and modernizations have kept her seaworthy and comfortable, however, and today she seats over a hundred passengers in her dining area and two hundred more up on deck. We shoved off, a steward took our orders for ice cream and beer, and soon we had our feet up, our cameras out and were prepared to watch the world glide by.
We spent the hour sailing along the Havel, wrinkling our noses at fishy smells, squinting in the bright sun, and waving to the cyclists and hikers at the water's edge. Occasionally our Captain blared from the ship's loudspeakers to draw our attention to the palaces and churches along the shore, while recreational boaters in yachts, canoes and kayaks zipped along on either side of us.
Ninety minutes or so into our voyage we approached the Pfaueninsel (Peacock Island), once a park for the Prussian kings, and home of the royal menagerie. We transferred to a ferry which brought us across to the island, now a nature preserve and UNESCO World Heritage Site. True to its name, the island is still populated by dozens of peacocks, which wander the gravel paths followed by flocks of tourists snapping photos.
Adding to the fairy tale ambience is the island's white wooden castle. Built in 1794 by Prussian King Friedrich Wilhelm II for his mistress, the Pfaueninsel Castle stands at one end of the island, its windows gazing out across the Havel, as if awaiting the return of some long lost Prince.
We wandered about the island, imagining the palm trees, parrots and kindly kangaroos which once amused the doomed emperors. Our royal reveries were interrupted, however, when the castle's clocktower tolled the hour, and we raced back to catch the day's last river cruiser. Our fairy tale castle grew smaller in the late afternoon glare as we sailed back towards Wannsee, our faces now slighty sunburned. Soon our boat tied up at the dock, returning us to the 21st century, and we climbed onto shore, struggling for a moment to find our land legs once more.