Sa. Mai 20
I bound out of bed unusually refreshed and in a venturous mood, so I favour I shall ‘do’ Schloß Charlottenburg. Disembarking the U at Richard-Wagner-Platz, I pause to capture a snapshot. This is another quirk of my new life I’ve come to notice. Tourists in London or New York might snap a generic snap of this subway sign or that tube logo just for the overall memory. But here I find so many station interiors so inherently imbued with personality and craftsmanship that I deem it criminal to pass without demonstrating my appreciation, and so find myself collecting photos like baseball cards. The seemingly simple positioning and colourplay betwixt the bi-palette of metro-tiling in this particular station renders me bewitched.
Making my aussteig from the station, I’m stopped in my tracks once again by a stunning sequence of mosaics that appear to have little old moi as their one hand clapping. Perchance folk here have had their fill already, but still, meeting the thousand yard stare of my betiled brethren, I waggle a disbelieving head and apologetically try to appreciate this moment extra-hard to make up for the aesthetic sins of my fellow passengers.
Once outside, I’m confronted by another of my photographic sticker-book moments - the Berlin Bären. Alright, I’ve seen a good dozen and haven’t yet taken it upon myself to research quite what they are or indeed why they are - but as I said in an earlier post, I bloody love bears, me. So funny looks be frigged: I sink onto bended knee for ample angle and tick this blighter off my as-yet-unseen list, before traipsing on schloß-bound.
