The Mauerpark Experience

Sunday, funday

During my stay in Berlin, there was one thing that bothered me. It wasn’t the crowded subways in the afternoon, the fact that I knew barely any German, or that my neighbors would play loud techno music as soon as the weekend started. Those were all part of the charm of the city. The thing that bothered me the most was that there was nothing to do on Sundays. Every store was closed, except for the odd spätkauf (kiosk) here and there. I couldn’t just walk around lazily eyeing the funky sweaters of second hand stores that I had noted during the week. I couldn’t either be amazed by the one of a kind 90s platform boots that hid in the back of these stores. And forget about digging through a bargain pile of old rejects that in my eyes where priceless. Little did I know about what was hiding right around the corner.

I complained about my dull Sundays to my friend, who then uttered the phrase that would cure my Sunday boredom:

“Haven’t you been to Mauerpark? ”

Mauerpark? What can it offer me?

Thinking I have nothing to lose, since nothing else of interest had come up for me that Sunday, I got on the U-bahn to Bernauerstrasse. As I exited the subway cart, I was overwhelmed by how many people were getting off with me. The platform filled up, and I had no choice but follow the stream up and out. I wasn’t sure before how to get to the park, but I found myself pretty comfortable just following the stream of people who were all heading in the same direction. As I walked in the 30 degree heat, trying to not get run over by any bikes, I saw on the other side the crowd of people walking in the other direction, carrying antique lamps, bags filled to the brim with textiles, while eating and drinking all kinds of things. I started getting my hopes up of this place. After all, Berlin had never let me down before.

At first glance

I got to the entrance, and was met by a big metal sign, stating the obvious; I had found Mauerpark. As I take my first step inside I smile at the liveliness of the place. There are booths everywhere, selling food, drinks, jewelry, second hand clothing, and everything else you could imagine. They all possess that Berlin feeling of being able to do whatever you like, just because you can. Just as I couldn’t see where the long line of booths ended, I couldn’t wait to start my hunt for treasures.

The atmosphere

As I walked further into the maze of booths, I got a familiar feeling in my stomach. It was the same feeling I would get at festivals. The things for sale are as quirky as the people there, and it was strangely relaxing. Everyone is taking it slow and enjoying themselves. As I let my mind wander, so did my feet. I had left the sales booth area and found myself on a vast green field. That familiar feeling in my stomach grew intensely. People were lounging together on the grass; eating, drinking, or enjoying music from the various street performers filling the park. The air was filled with music, laughter and the atmosphere of a lazy Sunday. I found a shady spot to hide from the heat for a while and looked around. I almost forgot where I was, thinking I had stumbled into some unadvertised festival area. To my left I heard people cheering on an impressive beatboxer, and to my right, someone was blowing giant soap bubbles. Right in front of me, a man with a saxophone walked up to a group of strangers, asking to join them. Being used to the Swedish social standards, I thought of what an awkward position he had put himself and the group of strangers into. But this being Berlin, he sat down with his new found friends, and started playing his saxophone with them. I sat and watched the situation with childish happiness. I had stopped believing in decency in people, and was baffled by the friendliness they showed each other. Realizing I had come to a good place, I leaned back to take in the atmosphere.

Unique treasures

After a while, I felt compelled to continue my treasure hunt. I walked back onto the dusty paths around the sales booths. Surrounded by colors, patterns and wonderful smelling food, I felt like a kid on Christmas. Being a creative soul, all this inspiration was flowing into my mind like a waterfall. There were beautiful fabrics, cool retro clothing, handmade jewelry and other odds and ends. Everything had its own story, and I made them up in my mind as I wandered around. Maybe the camera had been owned by someone sightseeing in another country. Maybe those shoes had belonged to a fabulous nightclub goer with a love for disco. A vintage typewriter with a matching briefcase was sitting in a corner; possibly a precious belonging of an aspiring writer. The items had all belonged to glorious people of Berlin, and for the moment, I felt like one of them.

The experience of Mauerpark is of course different for everyone. It can be a great hangout spot for friends wanting to sing karaoke, a place for foodies looking for a bite to eat from every corner of the world, a second hand heaven, or for me: all of those things. Mauerpark isn’t a place you visit; it is a place you experience. The treasure isn’t what you take from the park. It is Mauerpark itself in all its odd, wonderful glory.