Berlin, September 1962

Berlin, City of Espionage; split by a wall, divided into four only approached from the west by road, rail, and air corridor. Still carrying traces of the Berlin of Isherwood’s thirties days so very cosmopolitan still with its big Capital City ways. A certain grand style and a sort of debauched air contrasts of the strip clubs with the Eternal Flame burning there, not to be extinguished until that someday when the wall would be breached and the Country be one again. The delights there on offer so very tempting and nice but, like so many offerings each to be had for a price. And those days with maybe a sort of panic in the air, a questioning of how long the Powers would be there. That growing spat over Cuba affecting the Cold War with a very real threat it couldn’t be cold anymore. And Berlin the fabled city, a city somewhat of the night, metaphorically girded its loins prepared for any coming fight. City of splendour and history, with its seven hundred year past, confident whatever the result it would be there at the last. And the pleasures of the city whatever any coming strife helped ease our tensions and added spice to my young life.