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Dresden: Part 3/3 – Final reflections and scorecard: Culture 8/10, Food 5/10, Historical interest 10/10, Livability 7/10

If you’ve slogged through my last two blogs on Dresden, well done!! Apologies if I lost you in all the detail; such was my fascination with its history that I did lots of research on my return to Australia making my blog posts rather information heavy!  “You really have to concentrate,” commented my sister… This final Dresden post is more personal and less driven by facts and figures.

You’ll notice I didn’t mention food in my previous posts. To be honest, neither food nor drink were highlights of my Dresden trip. Not to stereotype German food, but I’m not so into bread, beer and sausage. I was wandering round the various stalls and wooden huts of the Spring Market one evening and felt my stomach turn at the fatty-looking potato cakes and greasy Currywurst bubbling away in a large pot.

And eating out in the Old Town – close to my hotel – was very expensive; I was paying a premium for the location. Interestingly, though, the meals with a view were somewhat marred by surly and, in some cases, outright bossy service; no frills or niceties whatsoever. After my long day visiting Loschwitz, the castles on the Elbe and the Stasi Detention Centre (see blog post 2), I stopped off for dinner in the Neustadt – the ‘new town’ on the opposite bank of the Elbe from the Old Town.

Here the vibe was quite different: trendy, younger, student-y and ethnically diverse as evidenced by the different cuisine offerings – from Turkish, Greek and Middle Eastern to French, Vietnamese and more. And the shops! I window-shopped my way past some of the most fun and original retro, vintage and niche interest shops I’ve seen in a while. Just as well I had zero room in my case, and it was anyway approaching closing time.  

However, my chief mission was to find the Kunsthofpassage (KHP)– a series of funky interlinked courtyards in Görlitzerstrasse that were jazzed up about 20 years ago with art and wall sculptures. The one I loved best was the building with the musical drainpipes set against a turquoise painted façade. I’d love to be there when it rains and the water plays through the trumpet-shaped pipes. The courtyard of the animals is fun too with monkey, giraffe and bird bas-reliefs on a lime green wall.  Elsewhere there’s a floating sculpture made of woody stems and climbing red geraniums set off a blue front door.

Among the KHP’s arty shops, chocolaterie and other offerings I found a restaurant called Lila Sosse (Lilac Sauce) that drew me in with its wooden tables, menu on the blackboard and desserts in glass jars. Away from all the Old Town Baroque bling, the wait staff were friendly and down to earth, and I had the best meal of my stay – an asparagus, beetroot and feta risotto – and at a reasonable price. Still recovering from the Stasi Museum experience earlier in the day, I also treated myself to a stiff vodka and tonic. Chin up and all that.

Keeping on the food theme, I opted for the hotel breakfast the next morning – my last full day in Dresden. The previous mornings I’d gone for the cheapskate option and made tea in my room (I had to request a kettle as there was only a coffee machine) and eaten yoghurt and fruit purchased at REWE. And I am glad I did.

Having looked forward to my 29 Euro breakfast, I was disappointed! I’ve come to the conclusion that buffet breakfasts are not all they are cracked up to be – no egg pun intended! In fact, they are the supermarket of breakfasts: it’s self-service, involves queueing and you have to wander around to find everything you want in a mass-produced environment. You find the fruit but not the yoghurt and granola – they are at a different ‘station’, then you line up at the coffee machine looking for the hot water button to pour onto a tea bag in a cup. And, if you’re like me, you stuff it up and the hot water spills over or, even better, you press the wrong button and get cappuccino on your Earl Grey. But if you do manage a cup of tea, you take it back to the table with your fruit only to realise you forgot the milk. Up you get again and around you go.  

After the fruit and yoghurt, you venture off to the hot food station where eggs and bacon sweat over bain-maries. By the time you get back to the table, the tea is stewed and cold. And then there’s the toast to organise… And that involves waiting for it to cook on one of those cake-walk-type toasters (all the while your hot food is congealing on the plate) that spits out the toast at the end. All far too much juggling and faffing.

However, there were a few silver linings. I stocked up on Sunday papers which I am still reading (the Frankfurter Allgemeiner is quite dense!), I made myself some rolls for lunch, and I got chatting to the (German) couple sitting at the table next door.  We got into conversation because I mistook the guy for a waiter (he was wearing black trousers and a black shirt) and I asked him to bring me a pot of tea. A short but sweet friendship forged over laughter.

My final destination was Pillnitz Castle. You may recall that Andreas from the Antique Shop in Loschwitz recommended that, given my interest in East/West Politics, I should visit a special exhibition about chairs made in the GDR in the 1970s and 1980s.

I got a tram and a bus out to Schloss Pillnitz, which once housed one of August the Strong’s (remember him from the first blog?) mistresses. It has three main buildings, two of them Baroque with Chinoiserie elements and the Neues Palais, in the Neoclassical style.

The furniture exhibition was in the Wasserpalais, the Riverside Palace, and there was something wonderfully mismatched about staging an exhibition about polyurethane chairs in a Baroque castle. The brightly coloured “Känguruh-Stuhl” (Kangaroo chair) and the “Garten-Ei” the Garden Egg chair are thought to be icons of East German design. But it turns out that the East Germans had a bit of help from their frenemies.

Part of a worldwide boom after the second world war, cheap to make and mass-produce, plastics were attractive to the GDR, but production in the East lagged behind the West, where production and innovation were supported by private sector investment.  A bit of a When Harry Met Sally situation, the East wanted what the West had. The exhibition documented the subterfuge and political machinations that lay behind the GDR becoming a major centre for polyurethane plastic (PUR) furniture.

Unbeknown to the citizens of East Germany, their government was involved in clandestine trade with West German companies from whom they purchased know-how, machines, foam moulds and design licenses.  In the 1970/80s more PUR furniture was made in the GDR than anywhere else in the world, and this widescale production was outwardly hailed as a sign of socialist progress. The cross-border skulduggery was well covered up. Fascinating stuff.

Pillnitz is surrounded by lush green parkland – Englisher Garten-style – has a glass house (complete with Australian natives!) an orangery, several pavilions and a camellia tree that is more than 230 years old. Reputedly brought out from London’s Kew Gardens in the 1770s, the tree is protected during the winter months by a movable glass house that sits on rails. The tree is MASSIVE and the hexagonal glass house structure is a stunning piece of modern design.  I was lucky enough to catch the azaleas and rhododendrons in flower and ate my breakfast rolls sitting in the sun on a park bench surrounded by reds, purples and pinks.

One place I hadn’t managed to visit while in Dresden was the nearby town of Meissen, famous – since the 1700s – for the manufacture of porcelain.  Anyone who has visited my house will know I am a seasoned collector of china, particularly cups and saucers. And so it was with FOMO-assuaging delight that I got to see some fine examples of Meissen figurines and tableware wandering through the state rooms of one of the other Pillnitz palace buildings.

On the way back to Dresden I got a ferry over the Elbe, cutting off a corner, and linking to a tram back into the city. The ferryman was a jovial kind of guy with a big smile and twinkle (of the right kind) in his eye. He complemented me on my German detecting only a light English accent – which was flattering, (who doesn’t love a bit of encouragement?!) – and let me cross for free. And into the bargain I got a great view of the riverfront side of Schloss Pillnitz. A good end to a richly varied and fascinating four days.

As a postscript, I play a ‘could I live here?’ game whenever I travel. On the downside, there are still post-war political tensions, and quite a significant neo-Nazi and far right faction in Dresden. The week I was there an SPD politician was attacked and badly injured by a group of men, and shortly before this incident, a member of the Green Party had been attacked putting up posters. Dresden also feels a bit off the beaten track – the kind of place where opinions can harden. However, I reckon I’d enjoy hanging out there for a few months, especially in the summer months doing artsy things and speaking German. When I am less engaged in working for a living, Dresden might be one of my house-sit destinations.

Dresden Part 2 of 3: Suspension Railways, Schlösser, sewing tables, the Stasi and the Soviets

Welcome back to Dresden where I am once again on the trusty Hop Off, Hop On bus, this time heading east from the city and across the cantilever truss bridge, colloquially known as the Blaues Wunder, up to the wealthy residential area of Loschwitz – an area of historic villas and summer residences, many of which escaped the WW2 bombings.

I start by taking the world’s oldest suspension railway (Schwebebahn) up the mountain. At this point, full declaration on suspension railways… My first visit to Germany was aged 15 when I stayed with my school friend Monica and her grandparents in Wuppertal. Quite young for our age and prone to giggling fits, we loved being with Opa and Oma, even if they did stuff us full of food – Kaffee und Kuchen every afternoon without fail! Travelling on Wuppertal’s Schwebebahn was all part of the adventure, and we loved it. Unlike the Loschwitz funicular (see below), the monorail in Wuppertal is not just a tourist attraction but part of the transport network. It literally hangs off the rails rather than sits on them, and is a great way of travelling around, lending a bird’s eye view of the city. Interestingly, the Loschwitz funicular and Wuppertal’s monorail were designed by the same engineer in 1901.  From the machine room at the top, there are stunning views over Loschwitz, the Elbe and beyond. Dresden is a city packed with panoramic viewing points.


The Blaues Wunder Bridge

Back on the ground in Loschwitz I had lunch at Kaffee Wippler, a café with an art deco vibe and an enticing selection of cakes – after a slightly strange Greek-style salad heaped with spelt grains (I was expecting croutons), I chose a Florentine biscuit to go with my – you guessed it – English breakfast tea! Then I wandered round enjoying the ‘olde worlde’ feel of the place: the cobbled streets and half-timbered houses; a delightful bookshop covered with ivy and vines; a knitter’s delight wool shop; an attractive yellow painted house, the final resting place of Clara Schumann’s father; an art gallery and a fabulous antique shop. Admiring a beautiful walnut sewing table in the antique shop, I got chatting to the owner and his mate, Andreas, from the Blaue Brücke Gallery round the corner. That lead on to an interesting chat about all sorts including life in the GDR.  They recommended an exhibition on polyurethane chairs at Schloss Pilnitz given my interest in East/West Politics.  See blog post 3/3!

Keen to walk in the glorious spring sunshine, I followed Andreas’ directions and branched off from the road along a steep cobbled walkway past expensive-looking villas – from Swiss Chalet-style to classical and Art Nouveau – and yet more marvellous views over the Elbe. Then I rejoined the bus for one stop and got out at the Elbschösser – the three castles overlooking the Elbe (Schloss Albrechtsberg, Lingnerschloss and Schloss Eckberg). These three castles were all built in the mid-19th century and are surrounded by rolling English-style (Englischer Garten) parkland and meadows dotted with wildflowers.

At Lingnerschloss there’s a large open-air café on the terrace overlooking the vine-clad slopes – Loschwitz has been a wine-producing area since the 11th century – and it was here I succumbed to a major attack of FOMO. Tramping around a city is tiring and part of me wanted to chill out and kick back with a cuppa or something stronger. The other part argued that I had to make the most of my time in Dresden. It was now 3.30pm, the Stasi Museum was open till 6pm, and it was on my way back into Dresden.  Having read Anna Funder’s Stasiland and seen films such as The Lives of Others, Goodbye Lenin and Balloon, my curiosity won out. I had a quick drink of water and pressed on.

The Bautzner Strasse Memorial is a former Stasi remand centre and, prior to that, a Soviet prison housed in a grey/beige-coloured apartment block. The memorial commemorates those who were victims of political persecution during the post-war Soviet occupation and then under the GDR.

The man at the desk was somewhat unhelpful when I asked how long I needed to go round and if I had time to listen to the 55-minute audio – “that all depends,” he said, shrugging, “who knows?” He handed me a map and gave muddled instructions – the museum is across a number of floors and parts of it were shut off for renovation.

It seemed entirely fitting that I should feel confused as I navigated the maze-like corridors. What a discombobulating experience it must have been for those detained by the Stasi. New arrivals to Bautzner Strasse were blindfolded until they had been processed, their families were not informed of the crimes they had supposedly committed and all detainees were identified by a number rather than a name. Not even the guards knew what the detainees had been accused of.

The interrogation room remains untouched and, according to the caption on a somewhat dog-eared piece of A-4 paper, was where the Stasi carried out psychological torture. For example, if a detainee didn’t cooperate, they were threatened that their partners, families and children could come to harm or that their children might be taken into care. Then there’s the small stark cells including a writing cell (any letters written under close supervision and heavy censorship), the room where mug shots were taken, a van that was used to transport prisoners with uncomfortably small compartments (mini cells), and the intact cell block on four floors – you can almost hear the clank of the keys and hear the footsteps of the guards doing their rounds. Testimonies from former inmates talk about the guards looking through the spy hole every few minutes.

Interrogation room

And then, even more disturbing, a damp dark tunnel with peeling paint leads to the post-war Soviet prison where Nazi sympathisers, political prisoners and those arrested on the flimsiest of charges were held in appalling conditions, in cold and cramped cells, the next stop being the Gulag.

Back on the street there’s a memorial to Alexei Navalny which I found particularly poignant, not least because a couple of streets further on is the site of Dresden’s former KGB Headquarters, No. 4 Angelikastrasse, where Putin worked as the local chief between 1985 and 1990.

Exhausted on all levels and in need of a bit of light relief, I was back on the bus in time to pop into Pfunds Molkerei, celebrated by the Guinness Book of Records as the ‘world’s most beautiful milk shop’. In business since 1880, Pfunds Molkerei featured as the bakery in the film, Grand Budapest Hotel. And it’s not hard to see why: floor to ceiling Villeroy and Boch tiles decorated with winged cherubs, naked cherubs, garlands of flowers and pastoral scenes (think cows and more cows!) provide the backdrop to the selection of cheeses, buttermilks (some with liqueur), sweets and chocolates as well as Dresden’s signature cake Eierscheke.  Short of time – it was about to close – I had a refreshing swig of buttermilk and bought some chocolates and nougat for friends. Then it was onto the New Town for dinner.

In Part III – coming soon – if you’ve stayed the course… – I spend an evening exploring the Neustadt, the new town – which is more boho than baroque. I also head off to Schloss Pilnitz, stroll the grounds, gawp at a 250-year-old camellia and visit two radically different exhibitions – one royal and traditional and the other about polyurethane chairs manufactured during the time of the GDR. (recommended by my antique shop friends).

Delightful Dresden: Florence on the Elbe (Part 1 of 3)

Dresden had been on my Bucket List for a while – I’d read good things about it. But I also wanted to go somewhere I could practise my German with the added interest of heading to a city that was part of the German Democratic Republic (GDR) – and behind the ‘Iron Curtain’ for 41 years. I found it fascinating on many levels – lots to interest me – so much so that this is the first of three blog posts on Dresden.

My hotel was right in the centre of the Altstadt, the old town, which made navigation very easy. Feeling somewhat under the weather on day one, I opted for the Hop On, Hop off Bus. And what a good choice that was. Purchasing a 20 Euro ticket at the hotel gave me three days of unlimited travel. I understood most of the German commentary but the bus rattles, rocks and rolls along so it was hard to hear it all. But if there’s only one thing you take away from Dresden it’s that Augustus der Starke, Augustus the Strong, Elector of Saxony and Poland (1670-1733), made a huge contribution to the cultural, artistic and scientific landscape of the place. In fact, I was first introduced to him in the taxi on the way from the airport as we drove past a gleaming gold statue of him atop a horse in full body armour.

He might have been the Donald Trump of his day – he certainly liked surrounding himself with power, riches, wealth and women. Indeed, he was rumoured to have up to 365 illegitimate children.  But I was more interested in his cultural legacy.  It was short walk from my hotel to the Historisches Grünes Gewölbe (Historic Green Vault), which he built to store some of the many treasures he collected.

Dresden, particularly the old town, was very heavily bombed by the British in the Second World War. Amazingly however, the Grünes Gewölbe, remained mostly intact with only three rooms going up in flames.  Treasures from the vault – and many of the city’s precious objects and art collections – were removed to castles and fortresses outside the city during the war. And I learned that many valuable items were taken by the Soviets as booty after the war but were returned in the 1950s.


Views of the Altstadt

Entry to the Green Vault is by timed ticket, and only two people can enter and exit at a time through double-layered automated glass doors. And, needless to say, no phones or photographs are allowed. The tight security is not surprising; in 2019 thieves broke into the vault and stole precious items from the Jewel Room – some of which were recovered but not all.

The eight rooms of the Green Vault all have a different theme such as the Amber Room, The Ivory Room, the Silver Gilt Room etc. Building to a crescendo of Baroque opulence, each room has more mirrors than the previous one – there’s almost too much splendour, detail and intricate craftsmanship to take in! Variously crafted from amber, mother-of-pearl, coconuts, ostrich eggs, enamel, gemstones, gold, brass, silver, jade and more there were drinking vessels, carved figurines, clocks, sculptures, animals, birds, swords, platters and decorative boxes. And in the Jewel Room, rows of rings with knuckleduster-size gemstones – diamonds, rubies and sapphires as well as shoe buckles, swords, hat pins and a breast star of the Polish Order of the White Eagle.

Much of the Altstadt has been rebuilt and restored to its former Baroque glory since the fall of the wall in 1989. There is still building work going on at the Zwinger Palace which was never designed as a dwelling but as an orangery and a setting for court festivities and celebrations.

Ongoing works at the Zwinger Palace

Just across from the Zwinger is the Semper Oper (opera), which was rebuilt earlier, in the ‘80s, and reopened in 1985. Although it was advertised as sold out, I managed to get a return ticket and attended a matinee performance of the Magic Flute, Mozart’s only opera written and sung in German. Included in my all-time operatic favourites are the arias by Papageno and the Queen of the Night so it was a magical afternoon.

Semper Oper

A few days later I tagged onto a Night Watchman tour, and discovered there is an Opera Ball every January for the rich and famous. A glitzy ritzy event, previous guests include Vladimir Putin, who lived in Dresden for five years. I wonder if Trump ever attended or was on the guest list?

Augustus was also behind the construction of the Frauenkirche in the mid-1700s. After the war in 1945, the church remained a pile of blackened rubble and melted iron for 60 years. Archive photos from 1957 show sheep grazing around the ruins.  Then in the ‘90s, driven by the citizens of Dresden and funded by donations from all over the world, the reconstruction started. An extraordinary feat of engineering, each brick was catalogued and mapped and 40 per cent of the original materials were used. And, in a symbol of reconciliation between the UK and Germany, the orb and cross on top of the church were constructed by a team of British craftsmen including a London-based silversmith whose father was a pilot during the bombings over Dresden.  And, lest we forget, the cast-iron cross that originally crowned the dome is now displayed – molten and warped – inside the church. 

Climbing up to the dome was a good work-out, and I was rewarded with magnificent views over Dresden and the River Elbe, over spires and domes to the hills in the distance. You can see why Dresden used to be called the Florence of the Elbe.

But Dresden is not all columns, cupolas, crowns, carvings, chariots, cherubs and classical statues with fig leaves in strategic spots. It also has a history as an industrial centre – back in Augustus’ time Dresden’s wealth came from mining ore, silver and other metals from the Erzgebirge Mountains. Pre-war industries included car manufacture, medical equipment, optics and cigarettes.  Another stop on the bus tour is the eye-catching Yenidze Tobacco Factory, one of the few Altstadt buildings to survive the war. Now used as offices, the factory was built in 1909 in the style of a mosque, the minaret serving as the factory chimney, referencing the origins of the Turkish tobacco processed there. It was also a clever ruse by the architect to get round planning restrictions. I was tempted to go to the panoramic roof-top restaurant one night during my stay but didn’t get to it – next time!

Cars, optics and cigarettes (so many people smoke in Germany!) still feature today as well as IT, electronics and micro-chip manufacture.  It’s well worth taking a look at the state-of-the-art Gläserne Fabrik, the ‘transparent’ factory, home of the Volkswagen ID. ID standing for: “intelligent design, identity, and visionary technologies”. My timings didn’t work in with a tour but stepping into the glass atrium you can see the latest e-cars on display as well as cars moving along a self-driven assembly line. It’s all highly automated and futuristic, and the carbon-neutral building, which cost 86m Euros to build, is certainly impressive with its 27,500 square metres of glass.

Not everyone is a fan of the reconstructed Baroque city centre.  Some of those who grew up with a different cityscape – these ‘old new’ buildings including some with historically remodelled facades weren’t, of course, there in the 1980s – find the new Dresden homogenous and somewhat fake. And, there’s still some lingering Ostalgie (Nostalgia for the East) across the former GDR. But Dresden’s socialist past has not been completely erased. There are still some remaining Plattenbauen, prefabricated  blocks of flats,  that were common to much of the former East Germany.  And, in stark contrast to all the Baroque bling, stands the Kulturpalast (Cultural Palace) in the Altmarkt (Old Market Square ), a modernist building in the International Style which opened in 1969, and was used for concerts, dances and other events.

Kulturpalast

After heated debate, the people of Dresden voted not to demolish the Cultural Palace and deny their history but to keep a key building from the GDR period. The newly refurbished building, now protected by a preservation order, includes a concert hall, home to the Dresden Philharmonic, a library and a cabaret theatre, and was reopened in 2017.  You can’t fail to miss the large mural on the west side of the building titled Der Weg der roten Fahne (the Way of the Red Flag) with its socialist narrative. Quite a different story from that of the Electors and Kings of Saxony as shown in the pictures below.

Rote Fahne
Part of a mural of a mounted procession of the rulers of Saxony

In part 2 I will take you up to the wealthy suburb of Loschwitz, to the Elbschlösser, the castles along the Elbe, and to a stunning cheese/dairy shop dating back to the 1880s, which was voted the world’s “Most Beautiful Milk Shop,” by the Guinness Book of World Records. I also visit a former Soviet prison and Stasi remand centre.