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Wednesday, August 7th - Berlin to Dresden, 8412 km
Andres makes me breakfast again. I would like to take him out but this morning I have decided to catch the early train to Dresden which leaves at 10:00, which means I need to be at the station no later than 9:30, leaving me not enough time to take him out for a restaurant meal. I have no choice but to leave when Andres leaves for work or earlier, since I have lost his only spare key. And taking the later train would mean waiting for hours in the train station with my loaded bike.
Andres is affectionate this morning, which I appreciate greatly. I won't miss the train this morning, and even if I did I would wait for the afternoon train, so I know I won't be coming back. That doesn't mean that I have no need to feel anxious though. I haven't been able to reach Heiko Erdmann by phone and there are probably no youth hostels in Dresden, being an East German city. One never knows what services are available on the east side, but usually not many. He takes joy in making me another lunch to eat on the train.
He wishes me well as I leave his apartment for good, and I promise to write once every couple months or so. The ride to the Lichtenberg Station is so familiar now I no longer need to check a map. The morning is already warm and soon to be hot. I hope there is air conditioning on the train.
The train is on time and I am in my seat, ticket in hand. My bike is secured in the baggage car. Dresden here I come. Some of my anxiety subsides. If Heiko is not available when I ring his place I can always ride on towards the Czech border, my next destination. I checked at the Canadian embassy in Oslo ten days ago and they told me there are no visa requirements for Czechoslovakia. I am no longer retracing my steps, and no longer heading north.
At the train station in Dresden I get no answer when I call Heiko's home. The tourist information office is next to the train station. I pick up a city map to see how best to cycle out of the city, but I have Heiko's address and I see that it is not far away. It is worth a try. Heiko answers his door after the second time I ring. He's a big man wearing only a small bathing suit on this hot afternoon. He guesses who I am immediately and welcomes me with enthusiasm. I start by apologizing for missing my train yesterday, but he isn't concerned. The only thing that seems to matter to him is that I am here now. Once my bike and bags are stowed away in the guest room he ushers me into the living room.
He jerks his large frame around his dining room table to set up for an afternoon tea. His awkward movements are largely do to his left foot, which toes inward and does not seem to be fully functional. His arms are bent at the elbows as he moves, as though he cannot seem to relax them. In spite of this, he still moves efficiently and the tea is soon ready. He invites me to the table and asks about my trip. Finally I am relaxed as I am used to this part.
His face reminds me of my brother's, with its small nose and large jaw. He cocks his head from side to side, his lips slightly parted, as he struggles to understand my unfamiliar English accent. He understands more than he can express. He puts on a John Denver recording, and later jazz guitar music in the background. He tells me that he has lived here six years, having come from another town in East Germany.
Heiko is a social worker, for the government and through his church. I think a lot of his work is unpaid as he talks a lot about the hardship all around him in his apartment block and how he tries to support his neighbours. In spite of his disability, he is not a self-conscious man. He is kind by nature; more concerned about others than himself.
It is really sweltering outside. We decide to rest out the heat indoors, at least until the sun is lower. Heiko lives simply without air conditioning, but the sticky shade is better than the burning sun. In the early evening, before dinner, we set out for a walk around the city centre. While the look of the residential buildings is rather depressing, grotty and discoloured, but the central platz is airy and delightful.
Dresden was the historic capital of Saxony until the unification of Germany in 1970, but it is the great bombing of the city near the close of World War II that I knew most about. The city had no crucial military importance but it manufactured china that rivaled Limoges in France and Coventry in England. For that reason alone the Allies were determined to destroy the city. Lacking the technology of the atom bomb, they dropped 3900 tons of bombs in a ring around the city that created a fierce firestorm. The updraft from the flames sucked in thousands of defenseless civilians to their death. 95% of the 15-square mile city core was destroyed and as many as 500,000 people died, a much higher number than Hiroshima and Nagasaki combined. The aftermath of the bombing is described in "Slaughterhouse Five", a Kurt Vonnegut novel that was reading material when I was a student in high school. There is a larger baroque opera house, the Semperopera, which has been totally reconstructed by the Communists. It looks like it was spared the bombing, but it had been leveled. It was rebuilt entirely from the found rubble after the fire. Heiko says I cannot go inside because only the shell has been reconstructed. The East German government ran out of money, given that they had so many other devastated cities to rebuild.
There is also an incredible mural of the procession of Saxon leaders through history, called the Furstenzug, 102 m long and 9.5 m high. It is nearby the main square that has been reconstructed. It is one of the most incredible murals I have ever seen, at least for its shear size. Heiko says the central platz (square) of Dresden was known as one of the finest in Europe. I am not sure how that is measured but it is a fine looking square, not the vacuous expanses like I’ve seen in many large cities. I recall the Grand Place in Arras, France, that looks like a vast empty parking lot with a fringe of Flemish buildings around it.While we are walking we run into Heiko’s roommate, Ralph, and two friends of Ralph’s
who are visiting Dresden, Christopher from the US and Soren from Denmark. They are all in their late 20s. Ralph works with computers. The other two are just traveling like me. Ralph is handsome, but not as handsome as Soren, the Dane, who is a tall blond. They walk with us for a while, and then I go grocery shopping for dinner with Heiko. While we are walking home, Heiko continues with his roll as tour guide and historian, but now he tells me about the present-day Dresden. He tells me about the desperate situation with the unemployment rate being so terribly high, higher than the official figures show. The safe markets of Russia and the Eastern Block are gone and the reconstruction firms and businesses from West Germany bring their own, more-competitive workers. No one is hiring anyone from East Germany. Everyone he knows here is depressed. Last week Heiko had to talk a neighbour in his apartment block out of killing himself. He was holding a gun to his head and his wife sought Heiko out frantically. I am at a loss for words when he tells me this. After a pause, I tell him that he is a man worth admiring.
Heiko cooks for myself, his roommate and his two visitors does with them. He’s a handsome fellow, in his late 20s. Actually, they are all handsome, but especially Soren, who is a tall blond. The three of them have just returned from Prague three days ago. They enjoyed themselves a lot and can’t find enough nice things to say about the city. I ask their advice about what to see and do there, as I will be leaving for Czechoslovakia tomorrow morning.
With the change of cities, the heat and the walking I make it an early night. I stay in and read and then to go to bed about 10 pm. Heiko has already gone to bed and the other three have gone out somewhere.
PHOTO 1: Heiko Erdmann
PHOTO 2: the Semperopera, rebuilt by the Communists
PHOTO 3: the mural of Saxon princes, the Furstenzug
PHOTO 4: Ralph, Christopher and Soren
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