Notes on… Eastern Germany

Ever since the Berlin Wall came down, I’ve been pottering around eastern Germany, where my father’s family came from, and fled from at the end of the second world war. I thought my interest would fade as my father’s fatherland was absorbed by the Bundesrepublik — but for me, this strange hinterland grows more intriguing with each passing year. Take the historic heartland of Hitler’s Reich, subject it to 45 years of communism and then 25 years of capitalism. What do you end up with? A mad mishmash of past and present, the last century laid bare. Naturally, the former GDR isn’t uniformly pretty (indeed, large swaths of it are spectacularly ugly) but for anyone interested in history, it’s a fascinating place.

Most foreign visitors head for Berlin, and many venture no further. They don’t know what they’re missing. Of course Berlin is a must-see, but like a lot of capitals it’s estranged from the country that surrounds it. While Berlin becomes more international, the surrounding state of Brandenburg remains stubbornly provincial. A local train from the city centre transports you deep into silent countryside, last remnant of the Prussian empire, wiped off the map in 1945. Down long avenues of linden trees are the redundant mansions where its Junker barons used to live. Some are now smart hotels, some are hollow ruins.

Saxony is the success story of eastern Germany. Historically, it was always wealthy. Only communism made it poor. Dresden’s baroque Altstadt hogs most of the tourist traffic. Much of it is actually an artful reconstruction (the RAF left few buildings standing) but no one seems to care. The truth of its past is too painful. Fantasy is always easier, especially here. The house where my father was born is on the green edge of Dresden, near the military airfield.