The best way to approach the centre of Berlin is by Metro. As the newly-emerging metropolis rises up before you, with its tall forest of cranes, its deep-dug foundations, and its newly-completed palaces of glass and metal, you could be forgive for doing a double take: welcome to the third millennium.
The architects who were given the task of redesigning the city after the fall of the Berlin Wall had a tough decision to make. Should they rebuild the Berlin that had once been, with its classicist houses, Central-European squares, alleyways, enormous radial avenues and Imperial pomp (all of which still of course survives in some parts of the city), or should they launch themselves on the biggest urban architectural project in the world, and use the yawning, empty spaces let behind by the upheavals of history to build the most unified, most harmonious and most modern city centre of all time? They chose the latter, but they were not given absolute carte blanche. The mood and the atmosphere of old Berlin dies hard. Even after decades of living as a divided city, the old memories still refuse to die. Berlin, the cultural capital of the last century, the temple of bohemia in the twenties, the great melting pot of all the peoples and languages and cultures of Central and Eastern Europe - these are things which cannot simply be rubbed off the screen. Imperial Berlin also gave the world a number of grand creations, things which have since passed into the symbolic iconography of Europe. One of these "must-sees" is Frederick I's Brandenburg Gate. In those days Berlin was surrounded by forest, and Frederick created a driveway for his wife, leading through the trees to the Charlottenburg Palace. This road is known all over the world as Unter den Linden, and it is possibly the best-known radial avenue - it is certainly the most historic - in all Europe. At the point where Unter den Linden crossed the city boundary, Frederick ordered a gate to be erected.
Building work on it began in 1789, and it was modeled on the gate to the Acropolis in Athens. Karl Gotthard Langhans, the great predecessor of today's architects of the new Berlin, dreamed up a grandiose and imposing structure, topped by the figure of the goddess Victory. Ever since the end of the 18th century, Victory has been keeping her eye on the comings and goings through her gate. Today she is less likely to see bewigged Emperors than trainer-clad tourists munching Bratwurst, who teem through the gate in summer time, on their way to the Tiergarten park (the remainder of the former woodland), where they can stretch out in the grass and stare up at the sky. String at the sky over Berlin does not quite give you the scene of freedom you might expect: it is crowded with cranes. To find out what exactly they are building at such a furious rate, your best bet is the red Info Box on the Posdamer Platz. So far it has had over six million visitors. Computer-generated images give you a virtual-eye view of what the Berlin of the future is going to look like - and if you peep out over the roof terrace, you will see that the shimmering glass Sony palace is already complete, and that next to it a needle-sharp skyscraper spikes the heavens. Its designer, Hans Kollhoff, claims that there is no reason why a towering edifice of granite should not have a kind of friendly appeal. To increase the friendly effect, he has put warm-coloured wooden windows into the façade, and has articulated every elevation of the huge building with fine lines. Opposite this, not long ago, Daimler City was thrown open. It was designed by an Italian architect, Ranzo Piano, who has managed to bring the planners, concepts to perfect fruition: a grandiose building which has a light airy feel to it, and whose inner courtyards and squares attract the people of Berlin like a magnet.
Restaurants, shops, cinemas, a hotel and casino - the whole construction is like a mini city within a city, bringing back the old spirit of Berlin, but in totally modern dress. Berlin has tree universities, three opera houses and theatres too numerous to count - which means that once again it is challenging the great cultural capitals of Europe for supremacy. The appeal is heightened still further by the fact that Berlin is consciously turning itself into the media capital of the continent. Anyone who wants publicity should pay Berlin a visit. While the new city, clad in steel and granite, clanks into life, there is more than just a blast from the past remaining of the old-world city that one was. As the sun goes down, the bars and restaurants on the Kurfürsterdamm begin to hum with activity. This is the legendary main street of old West Berlin, and though some people would sniffly tell you that it does not swing anything like it used to do in the seventies and eighties, it still has a few surprises up its sleeve for those eager to discover the secrets of the night-time city. It is undeniable, though, that this district is now being forced to compete. The boho life has all gone east, to Oranierburgerstrasse. Here the bars, galleries and café bookshops are thronged with artists, writers, architects, promising new talents and hoary old lost cause. Plenty who started dabbling with the arts here at the right time have now earned something approaching cultural guru status in the centre of the united city. One such man is Klaus Biesenach, founder of the Berlin Biennale, one of the most prestigious fine art exhibitions, and proof that Berlin is a living metropolis capable of creating and sustaining art.
Another thing the Berlin night is famous for is its techno. Every summer the city puts on Lover Parade, Europe's biggest techno music festival. In the small streets and cellar clubs, the sound is so deafening, it feels as if the festival is never going to end. Surely we could find a kind of music that is better attuned to the first metropolis of the new millennium?
Újvári Miklós