Day Nine: Finale

After a whirlwind run by the Reichstag and the Brandenburg Gate last night, we checked in to the Park Inn Alexanderplatz for our final two nights of the trip. It was a very modern high-rise hotel and upon entering the room, I was struck by the configuration: there was a glass shower immediately in front of the door, a water closet off to the left behind a mirrored door, to the right - a sink and vanity, and then a small twin bed against the wall, flanked by a small desk. The room reminded me a bit of a train berth, as the whole room was about the size of a postage stamp! It was fine for me because I paid for a room alone -- but I wondered about my fellow choir members who were sharing rooms -- especially with that glass shower!

We had the morning off and then were scheduled to visit the Pergamon Museum, where we would have approximately one hour to tour. Our director and our two members missing passports were sent off to the US Consulate to get replacements and our two organists would be taking a taxi to the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche, where we would perform our final concert this evening.

We were to meet two local tour guides, who were to lead us through the museum - but they were nowhere in sight. After a few phone calls, it was determined that we should have picked them up by bus along the way. Nearly 30 minutes later, a guide shows up -- but he is forbidden to give a tour inside the Pergamon -- he is, instead, a guide for the Germany museum of history. So, with 30 minutes remaining before we have to board the buses for our final rehearsal, we grab our audio guides and sprint through the museum. The Department of Greek and Roman Antiquities was truly amazing and the Pergamon Altar (180 - 160 BC) was colossal! I made a side trip into the Islamic Art wing and found myself completely lost in the maze of silk carpets, mosaics and reconstructed buildings. I was one of the last to return to the bus and could have spent a whole day browsing in this wonderful museum.

The Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche was built along side the original 1895 church, which was a memorial to Kaiser Wilhelm I. In 1945 the building was virtually destroyed by Allied bombs and the ruins were left as a reminder of the era's suffering and devastation. In 1961, directly at the base of the ruined building, a small-scale, modern church was erected. The octagonal hall is lit solely by thousands of colored glass windows set into a honeycomb framework.

I found the building to be depressing and very Gothic. The space seemed to swallow up sound as soon as it left its source -- both the organ and our voices seemed dull and muted. We had a very short window in which to complete an Andacht service and then a short concert before the church closed at 7pm. We all felt this was our poorest performance yet and I felt a bit odd singing Ein Feste Burg ist unser Gott (A Mighty Fortress is Our God) in a Catholic church - as this was the battle cry of the Reformation.

I think we were all relieved to be done with the concert and, as we left and headed to our last dinner at the Brauhaus Mitte, an air of sadness seemed to descend that our adventure was nearly over.

We ate our chicken and mixed vegetables gleefully and ordered halbes of the local brew. Finally, the recognition began and we gave our tour guides and drivers commemorative t-shirts. We even performed the song below for our dear Peter -- much to the delight of the other patrons at the restaurant. As we settled down, a young man came over to Billye and asked if we could sing something for his friend - as they were there for a bit of a bachelor party. We put our heads together and decided to sing, "I'm Getting Married in the Morning" We did our best broadway and the poor chap sat there staring at us blankly . It turns out that he spoke NO ENGLISH WHATSOEVER! It was great fun, though!

As we left the restaurant, word started to spread that a small group would be visiting the oldest pub in Berlin, guided by our dear Iain. We met in the hotel lobby and set off on foot (of course) for this secret location. On the way, Iain started to have second thoughts, I believe, as we were a lively band! (Iain is a confirmed bachelor and lives alone in a small village in France.)

We arrived to an empty pub and immediately changed the place for all eternity. We laughed and joked and watched Peter and Iain spar (the Scotsman and the Englishman). As we passed the midnight hour, we decided we should probably head back to the hotel, as we had to be at the airport by 8 am. Iain was kind enough to offer me his arm for the treacherous walk down cobblestone streets (and me in heels) and we decided to have just one more beer before turning in for the night. The two of us sat together in the hotel bar and talked for hours... and the last night of the trip soon became the most memorable. (Edited to add: but not for the reasons you may be thinking. Iain is literally old enough to be my father. He's a no-nonsense kind of guy who helped me to see that life's too short to run around with regrets, doubts and insecurities. I owe him a great debt for that.)