Pretty Ugly Things

A recent visit to the coal mines of Essen have made me pause and think about the great places that don’t seem to get the attention they deserve.

We travel thousands of miles to see palaces, churches, and castles. But what about the mines, the factories, and the bunkers that have been rebuilt into something more beautiful than their original, intended purpose? Can there not be romance or beauty in reinvented function too?

Inspired by a visit to a coal mine in the Ruhr Valley, I present a short list of European sights worthy of some attention.

Essen’s Zollverein 

This was Germany’s ultimate coal mine. Now that it's closed, parts of the industrial sprawl have become event spaces and museums, like the Red Dot Museum. Housed in the Zollverein's deepest mine, the Red Dot is a display of great contemporary design (graphic design, industrial design, product design, you name it).

I’m not sure what the coal miners would make of what became of their workplace, but the juxtaposition is striking.

Off to the coal mine

This part of the Zollverein complex is derelict.

You could get away with calling it Germany's Rust Belt.

Design!

More design! This time rude gloves.

Aliens!

Is she a designer?
Or is she a Bond villain in her lair of design things?

Salt Mines of Wieliczka

The Zollverein wasn't the first mine we visited. The salt mines of Wieliczka, near Krakow, were our first mine. Mined for over 700 hundred years, it has decidedly less Rust Belt ambiance, in part because of the statues and chapels the miners built. These are no doubt are comforting if your job involved long hours working under the threat of noxious fumes, cave-ins, and explosive pockets of methane.

A Polish King.

A church underground. Comforting if you're claustrophobic.

Most of East Berlin

I write a lot about Berlin, but it's been reinvented a few times so it's worth mentioning. Along with erecting a wall in the middle of the city – some sections of which are a gallery – the communists also loved building factories and gas plants in the city centre. Some were torn down to make way for Germany’s ambitious unification building program. Others became electro-dens of sin, with parties going from Friday to Monday morning. Most became a canvas for street art.

Cheerful East Side Gallery.

Dreary East Side Gallery.

The view from Mörchenpark.

Vienna’s Anti-Aircraft Bunker

Believe it or not, it’s pretty hard to demolish a concrete building built to withstand continuous Allied carpet bombing. What’s the alternative? The wily Viennese turned one into an aquarium.

AAA Tower.
Or Awesome Aquarium... something... Tower.

The Tate in London

During my first visit to London I had an afternoon to myself and had dilemma: Do I listen to the history nerd in me and go to the British Museum or do I heed the advice of the art-sy fart-sy nerd in me and hit up the Tate Modern? The Tate won the coin toss.

Can we call people who go to the Tate, Taters?

The Rhineland's Mardi Gras

Carnival has finished in the Rhineland.

It is a five- or six-day party – depending on how many days you take off from work – and we got to live in the middle of it.

What’s Carnival? It’s like the German (mostly Rheinish) version of Mardi Gras. But it’s not what you think. Efficient? Organized? Dismiss any of the stereotypes that pop into your head about Germans. It is Mardi Gars in all its beautiful chaos and debauchery. 

There are differences. People wear costumes instead of beads. There's almost no flashing. No one is drinking Hurricanes, but there is plenty of beer. 

Kata and I live in the middle of the Old Town, or the Altstadt, I think I have mentioned that the Altstadt is a bunch of old-style buildings on pedestrian-only cobblestone streets filled with bars, restaurants, and souvenir stores, but mostly bars.

I walk to work on Thursday, the beginning of Carnival through the Altstadt and people are already lined up for the Carnival kick-off at 11am. Oh, they're in costumes. Clowns. Fighter pilots. Nuns. Priests. Men in nun suits. A lot of FBI agents. Cops. Devils. White-haired aristocrats. Farmers. Mexicans. Maybe one or two angels.

I get into work and people are in costume too. There is a lunch party and colleagues are decked out as pirates, Indians (not so culturally sensitive over here), cows, cats, nerds, she-devils, and so on.

I get a text from Kata. She says it sounds like there’s a riot outside our windows. There are drunks in costumes stumbling up and down the streets. She’s trying to work at home, but that’s not going to happen. I walk home, through a crush of costumed partyers on the streets of Altstadt.

We venture out and wander the streets that evening. It's quite an incredible spectacle. Again, the streets and bars and patios are rammed with costumes. It’s a fun, but short, night out.

Then I get sick, so I stay home on Friday. I get sicker. I get vertigo. I lay down and I get the spins with dizziness and nausea. We go out for a walk, but I can only last an hour or so, then I have to lay down.

I try to get better but below the windows those costumed revellers are shouting, drinking, pissing, puking, and singing until 4am. Then the street cleaners blast down the streets to clean the mess for the next day’s debauchery.

We manage to escape the Carnival Chaos a couple of times during the weekend, for a walk in the park or down the river. But we return to the chaos every time.

This goes on until Monday, when the parade goes through town. We last through 45 minutes of marching bands and floats and people shouting 'Helau!' It's fun. Many of the bands are also in costume. The floats are amazing, and there's even a few political floats in the line-up. 

Then we have to go back in because, you know, I have this vertigo thing and I am a wimp.

Tuesday comes, the Carnival is over. I’m seeing doctors, everyone’s back to work. In Canada, there are pancakes and then Lent starts the next day.

That was my Carnival. Next year, maybe I might wear a costume and I promise I will try to be healthier.

Preachers gotta preach... and drink.
Photo by Kata Varga

Onesie buddies.
Photo by Kata Varga

There is so much going on here, it's awesome.
Photo by Kata Varga

Parade Day. Snow White and three of the dwarves made it onto a float.

Some of the floats were political, and therefore cool.
The translation: "Terror has nothing to do with religion."

Köln vs. Dorf: The Eternal Battle

If you have carried on a conversation with a Düsseldorfer or Cologner – or whatever you call someone from Cologne or Köln or whatever – you will discover quickly that there is an intense rivalry between these two cities.

Both have their virtues. They sit on the Rhine, but on opposite sides. Cologne is bigger, but Düsseldorf is the state capital. Düsseldorf is wealthier, but Cologne feels decidedly more international. Beer, carnival festivities, soccer teams are all fodder for this intense civic competition. 

It's not serious they all say, laughing. But it is, you can tell because it's a passive-aggressive laugh.

What becomes apparent, is that Cologne is the big favourite, while the Dorf is the scrappy underdog. You may insert a passive-aggressive laugh here as well.

Being a polite guy from nice, neutral Canada, I've decided to step in and run a tally between the two cities over an array of categories as I encounter them. There is no concrete methodology, just my admittedly ignorant opinion, which is what this blog is all about.

I will continue to update the score at the bottom of the page:


Köln vs. Dorf – Beer

Cologne has Körsch, which by law is only allowed to be brewed within 50 km of the city (oh, Germany and your rules!). It’s light, crisp, and yummy. If you drink enough of it you feel just swell.

Düsseldorf’s home brew is Altbier. If you walk through the old town in the Dorf, almost everyone is drinking a small tumbler of this stuff. It’s dark and delicious, yet hoppy and filling. It also makes you feel good if you imbibe enough.

Both are served in short glasses, which are replaced quickly by a surly, tray-bearing server – the surliness is mostly tradition, I've been assured, nothing personal. The quick, grumpy service means you’re never stuck with warm beer and you never run out.

They both get a point, because they’re both so debaucherously delicious.

Köln vs. Dorf – Churches

Cologne has a stunning gothic cathedral. It survived Allied carpet bombing in World War II because it was so immense that bomber pilots used it as a waypoint for bombing runs deeper into Germany. 

The Dorf has a cute church near the riverside. Its tower has a twisty roof, which is quirky, but comes up short against the Köln Dom.

Advantage: Cologne.

Köln vs. Dorf – Christmas Markets

Christmas is a big deal in Germany. For one thing, they call it Christmas, not the Holidays or the Festive Season. Then they gather around a bunch of stalls on a street to eat sausage and drink mulled wine.

Cologne’s is not only larger than the dorfy Dorf's market, but the Christmas market in its old town has incredible handmade crafts. Cologne gets the point.


Köln vs. the Dorf – The Two Towers

Every world-class city must have a tower. Toronto? Check. Berlin? Check. Calgary? Surprise! Check. Cologne? Nein! The Dorf is a part of this pantheon of cities with towers, with its Rheinturm. The Dorf wins this round.

 


Result:

Köln    3
Dorf    2