The author's rented Deutsche Bahn bike, used to cycle the 170-kilometre cycle path that runs the route of the former Berlin Wall. All photos by the author.
As I begin the route, I find orange posts, mounted with photos and biographies of the East German refugees who lost their lives trying to cross into West Berlin—smart-looking, clear-eyed young men, many of them the age of my own boyfriend. Reading about their daring sprints through sand-covered tracks, chased by dogs and shot at by guards, it's hard not to be reminded that refugees are so often our bravest. The borders may have changed, but the stories are easily compared to those in Calais, Lesbos, and Jordan today.I had set out—perhaps unwisely—at the eye-watering hour of 5 AM. (I wasn't sure how long it would actually take to cycle 170 kilometres on a pair of rented Deutsche Bahn bikes and didn't much fancy the last stretch home in the dark.)READ MORE: How Two Dutch Chefs Are Reinventing Berlin's Restaurant Scene
Much of the Berliner Mauerweg cycle path follows old German Democratic Republic border patrol roads.
A breakfast of pretzels and bananas.
Currywurst in Wannsee, the former British district of West Berlin.
The author with a bottle of Club Mate.
The Jacobs coffee factory in Neukolln on the outskirts of Berlin.
As I eat, I take in the Kreutzberg locals. A woman in a headscarf smokes a huge, tar-scented cigarette to my left, a young British couple scroll through their phones over an enormous plate of meat and salad, and a bottle-swilling group of denim-clad drug dealers gather on a low wall beside the park. German families stroll past with buggies and babies.And in the middle of it all I sit, legs aching, stomach swollen, thinking of woods and walls, boundaries and bravery, of Communists and currywurst.READ MORE: Eating Two Lunches at the Two Best Chicken Shops in Berlin
