The Irresistible, Irrepressible Energy of Berlin’s Ku’damm

A street in Ku’damm, home to fashion store COS and the Hotel Kempinski. Copyright Visit Berlin. Photo by Philip Koschel

It had been a long journey, and I tried to blink away the fog of jet lag that hung before my eyes. An overnight flight with little sleep had been followed by a high-speed train journey across Germany. Charming towns flashed by as the train hurtled along at more than 180 miles an hour, little postcard-perfect collections of houses clustered amongst graceful fall foliage.

Transferring to the S-Bahn for the last leg of the journey, the commuter train rattled over elevated, curving tracks to my home for the next few days. Rolling my bag from Bahnhof Zoologischer Garten out into the street, I turned the corner and was brought up short by what I saw. Just a block away, a church bell tower, by equal measures imposing and beautiful. But it wasn’t quite right, that was the striking part, the pinnacle clearly in an apparent, perpetual state of destruction.

Old and New

Copyright Visit Berlin

Berlin isn’t like other major European capitals. And that’s because its historical trajectory—just in the 20th century alone—has been so unique and unusual. Heavy bombing in the Second World War, followed by decades where the city was divided into zones dominated by Western and Soviet powers. With that infamous, namesake Wall running through the heart of the city, long the most visible front along the Iron Curtain.

The result: more than any other major European city, Berlin is a mix of old and new, boxy modern sitting next to buildings with a centuries-old patina. Each neighborhood has its own distinct feel and energy and beat. And that’s perhaps no more visible than in my new favorite neighborhood, near Zoologischer Garten Station, and along the Ku’damm.

During the Cold War, the station was one of the busiest on the western/free side of the city. Long-distance trains left here for points across Germany and Europe. It’s also one of the few places where several lines of the S-Bahn (surface commuter trains) and the U-Bahn (metro) intersect.

The area was home to many musicians and rock and roll icons, from David Bowie to U2 to the Scorpions, who released songs relating to “Zoo Station,” riffing on the fact that West Berlin, was, like a zoo, surrounded by a wall. (I looked around a bit, and there doesn’t seem to be any references to this legacy at the station—it just feels like a big, busy place. Also, the fact that the U2 U-Bahn line runs through here is pure coincidence.)

Walking Ku'damm

And while the Wall has long fallen, the area retains a dynamic, international feel. This was the heart of West Berlin, home to the country’s most fashionable and famous shopping street. Germany’s equivalent to the Champs-Élysées, with a fairly less pronounceable name: the Kurfürstendamm. Although it’s almost always shortened to just Ku’damm.

Sidewalks in this area are always bustling, even late at night. A couple blocks north of Ku’damm, a red-brick viaduct runs right through everything, S-Bahn trains clattering along above, with restaurants, pubs, and even a jazz bar tucked into the archways beneath. Buskers play and street artists perform on the nearby Breitscheidplatz. The Zoo Palast is the grandest and most famous cinema in the country, even hosting the Berlin Film Festival from 1957 to 1999. And while I browsed plenty, I bought nothing in the many shops along Ku’damm.

There’s plenty of good food, too. Of course, you can find traditional bratwurst and sauerkraut and frosty pints of lager, but you won’t have to look far to locate sushi, hot pot, Korean barbecue, and a Neapolitan pizza joint where the servers speak to you in Italian.

And while I sampled some of the above, my favorite bite was also the simplest: a little Currywurst, “Berlin style.” It’s a straightforward dish invented in the city just after the Second World War. Take a sausage, boil it, then fry it. Slather on a spiced tomato sauce and curry powder. Then serve it up (with greasy fries) in a little paper carton. I picked a place near the station with a big crowd outside called Curry 36. The snack hit the spot, with the curry providing just the right amount of tang for the hearty sausage. (And the fries were pretty good, too.)

Hallowed Ground

Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church, from a distance. Copyright Visit Berlin. Photo by Wolfgang Scholvien

Fortified, I was ready to check out that church with the odd clock tower, visible from so many blocks in this neighborhood. Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church is, as it turned out, an absolute icon of Berlin. Opened in 1895, it was built to honor the first emperor of a united Germany. Its bells were the second-largest in the country, and they rang out so loudly at the church’s inauguration that, people say, the wolves at the zoo just up the road joined in with their howling.

Bombed heavily in the war, only one tower remains of the original five. Most of the church was completely destroyed. Hot debate surrounded what to do with the ruin, and angry protests saved the bell tower. Finally, in 1956, architect Egon Eiermann integrated it, preserved as-is, into his design for the new church, which opened in 1961. It was left as a memorial against war and a symbol of reconciliation. Berliners quickly gave it an affectionate nickname: “der hohle Zahn,” or, the hollow tooth.

The church, around 1900. Public domain

“This was just the entrance hall—the width, not the length of it,” a guide explained, walking me around the remains of the original church. A beautiful space, with ornate mosaics both above, on the barrel ceiling, and below, on the floor. “This was an enormous church; it could hold 2,000 people.” He pointed out a number of TK, each one honoring the Kaiser, from his birth and death to his victories in war.

As we crossed over to the new church, the guide noted that this beatification of the emperor was seen as inappropriate and wasn’t continued. “The new church was built to promote peace,” he said. And indeed, the moment you step inside its octagonal walls, a sense of tranquility and calm wash over you.

From floor to ceiling, the outside light is filtered through a honeycomb of blue-stained glass. Six feet of space separate the inside of the church from the street outside. Dozens of people sat around us, just enjoying the meditative effect of the silence combined with that blue glow. When the tour ended, I joined them. The hustle and bustle of Ku’damm, just outside, would draw me back soon. But for the moment, I was very happy to sit, relax, reflect, and feel a moment of peace.

When You Go

Fly: Berlin’s Brandenburg Willy Brandt Airport (BER) opened in 2020. Because it was divided and located deep in East Germany for so long, the country’s capital and largest city didn’t develop a fitting flight capacity, with Frankfurt and Munich building much bigger, busier airports. Consequently, most trips from North America will involve a hop in one of those cities or in places like Paris, Amsterdam, Lisbon, or London.

Stay: Part of the Hyatt family, the Lindner Hotel Berlin Ku’damm offers tidy, comfortable rooms and friendly service just a few steps from the city’s most famous avenue. It’s also less than a 10-minute walk from Bahnhof Zoologischer Garten, so you can use the transit links there to get around the city quickly and efficiently.

Getting Around: Berlin has one of the finest networks of public transit in the world. Pretty much any place you’d like to visit can be reached by S-Bahn, U-Bahn, bus, or tram. I bought a WelcomeCard for 20 euros from the ticket machine—it provides unlimited transit within certain zones as well as a significant discount on a list of sites and attractions.

Take Note: Half-hour tours of the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church are offered several times a day, free of charge. You don’t need to book ahead; just show up. When I was there, they commenced at a quarter past the hour.