Sachsenhausen

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Breakfast was at the hotel and wasn't half bad I must admit, with salmon, cheeses, spreads, bread and even bacon and eggs. As much as I would have enjoyed the traditional bacon and eggs, I really enjoyed the cheeses, meats and bread. I was acutely aware that we were not going to be in Europe for much longer and I was certainly going to miss good bread and cheese.

We met the Herbys at the train station and plotted a course for Sachsenhausen, a museum that began life as a concentration camp located in Oranienburg, some 35 kilometres north of Berlin. We had to change trains at one point and we ended up being delayed as all trains ground to a halt while we were on the platform. Armed police swarmed the station and spoke to a young bloke before cuffing him and hauling him away. To this day we have no idea what was going on. I utilised the extra time beneficially, ordering and enjoying a currywurst from the platform shop. Once off the train we tried to figure out the best way of getting to Sachsenhausen. It was only a few kilometres from the station and some tour groups elected to walk while others waited for the bus. It soon became apparent that the numbers didn't stack up so we elected to get a taxi. EUR10 for the six of us seemed like a good investment.

We bought the audio tour, another good investment, and began our walk around. The tour was incredibly detailed and included additional information options such as interviews with the prisoners and backgrounds of the commandants - we really needed the whole day there but ended up spending the better part of four hours.

We began on "Camp Street" where the "consignments" - their word, not mine - were brought in by foot or in vehicles from the trains. Most would not leave. The cast iron gate at the entrance to the triangular area where the camp itself had the words "Arbeit Macht Fre" - "Work Makes You Free" on it and was chilling.

We ventured into the two remaining barracks where the prisoners were housed in cramped and very basic conditions. Whilst not claiming to have any idea about how bad things were in the camp, the amassed tour groups demonstrated just how cramped the setting may have been. Most of the barracks had been burnt down or otherwise destroyed and the two we were in were recreated using surviving parts from the others. All that remained of the rest of the accommodation quarters were large rock beds in the yard that were designed to show where the footprints of other buildings were.

Without doubt the most uncomfortable locations in the camp were the execution trench, crematorium and gas chamber. These were the business parts of the camp. The execution trench was a basic rectangular hole in the ground, propped up by timber with a base of concrete and dirt. Here the "consignments" were lined up and shot, the timber sides not only helping keep the trench in shape but allowing the guards to catch and reuse their bullets. The crematorium and gas chamber just a few metres away were only ruins, covered by a modern rectangular structure to ensure that the weather can do no more to destroy the area.

We left a little quieter than we were when we went into the site and caught the train back to Berlin, alighting at the station just a few hundred metres from the Brandenburg Gate.

Lunch was at a rather touristy place near the station where I had another currywurst (big fan for the German food) and all except myself enjoyed one of the dozens of desserts on display. We were entertained part way through the meal when a mobile bar similar to the one we had seen in Ghent passed by holding up the traffic flow through this busy part of the city.

We passed by the Brandenburg Gate and made our way to the Reichstag. It was getting a little late in the day to be visiting anywhere else in the city and Emil and Klara were ready to go back to their hotel so Jo and I followed suit, having a small nap before meeting up with everyone once again at Irish Pub Im Europa Center for a drink.

At around 2100 a Swedish band called Waistcoat Riot took to the small stage at one end of the bar. The five-piece played covers of modern rock and pop songs with an irish/folk twist... quite a mix of music. They were great entertainment and were very happy to hear they had some countrymen in the crowd. Along with the odd classic Irish song like "Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ye", they also played "Killing In The Name Of" and, my favourite, Pulp's "Common People". Elin and the kids went home early but Nik, Jo and myself stayed until the final set ended at 0100 drinking beer and Ardbeg.

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