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A tale of two cities

It seemed as if there were two cities. One that I could touch and feel. Another that I only caught the occasional glimpse of. A vision slightly distorted, hovering at the corner of my eye. Blink and it was gone. But soon, it was that secondary image I was looking for, the one reflected in the walls of glass that testify to the newness of this city. To its regeneration.

Pictures within pictures. Images divided randomly by lines that already exist creating even more variations, so that after a while I began to wonder which was real. They were everywhere. Clear skies and sunshine turned sheaths of glass into placid pools of aqua blue water onto which reality superimposed itself. It’s something I’ve noticed before but I’ve never seen so much of it. And it felt slighly surreal. But then Berlin itself is slightly surreal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A splash of colour

Berlin never struck me as city that would be particularly colourful. When I think of colour and cities in the same sentence, I think of Barcelona and Gaudi; or Subotica and its art nouveau; or even Budapest with its great green and gold rooftops. But not Berlin. Yet even though it has its fair share of graffiti, it is awash with colourful murals that reflect the diverisity of its citizens and the creativity of its artists.

Blank walls have become canvases and the streets an open air gallery. Travelling by the S5 out to Charlottenburg is particularly colourful with lots of interesting murals of a more political bent. Others are more cute than chiq and others still a bleak commentary on city living. Some trace the history of the city while others exist seemingly to mask its grime. Most are interesting though.