berlin's enchanted ballroom...full of whimsy, widows and two wildly determined women

There is a magical place in the heart of Berlin...where widows once danced, and bombs fell, and whimsy ruled. It still does. This is Clärchens Ballhaus.

A few weeks ago, on a work trip to Berlin, I took in an afternoon tour of one of my favourite places. Whenever I have the good fortune to spend a couple of days in this fascinating city, I always try to spend a Sunday afternoon at Clärchens Ballhaus, where for over a century couples of all shapes and sizes have been coming to ballroom dance.

Marion Kiesow giving her presentation in the Spiegelsaal (Hall of Mirrors)

Back in the day, 1913 to be exact, this dance hall opened up in the centre of Berlin. It was pre-war, WWI, and Berlin was well on its way to becoming a global capital of modernization, technology and culture. The streets were full of private cars puttering around. Innovation and excitement were fueling a desire to be taken seriously; a yearning to be the next London or Paris.

And, into this heady atmosphere waltzed the neighbourhood dance hall. On the heels of the Belle Epoque era of "chanson" and the provocative caberets of Paris, Berliners flocked to dance floors around the city to sashay the nights away.

Opened in September 1913, by Fritz and Clara Bühler, Bühlers Tanzhaus quickly became known as "Clärchens", an affectionate turn on the hostess's name. Everyone was welcome to dance here. The general public in the large mainfloor ballroom, to popular tunes of the day (think Irving Berlin and Enrico Caruso), and the upper echelon of society in the upstairs Spiegelsaal (Hall of Mirrors) secretively dancing the newest craze...the Argentine Tango.

The Tango had arrived in Paris in 1905, a seductive mixture of the Habanero and the Waltz, and many other South American influences. It was an extremely sexy way for the avant-garde to express themselves behind closed doors. In November 1913 Kaiser Wilhelm II had restricted his officers from dancing the tango implying that only children of prostitutes would engage in such activity.

After the war came to an end and the city began a tough recovery period, Clärchen realized that there were far too many widows, including herself, now searching for a brief respite from reality. She began to host widows balls, personally inviting women she knew to come and dance with each other, and encouraging the few men who were still in Berlin to join them. The dance floor was full again, lonely people had reasons to smile again... the evenings were a hit.

Heinrich Zille, a very well-known Berliner satirist and illustrator spent much time at Clärchens Ballhaus, after he himself became a widower in 1919. His tongue-in-cheek depictions of the popular culture at the time and his social commentary about the common folk, to which he regarded himself as belonging, made him nationally famous in the 1920's. A few of his prints hang on the walls on the lower level of Clärchens.

The ballhaus developed a reputation for being 'ein derbes Vergnügen' (bawdy amusement), and that "no one goes home alone", with the maitre'd often warning young women, "be careful, not everyone is Prince Charming."

In 1932, Clärchen married for the second time. She had decorated the interior to reflect a sort of Japanese oasis, with Cherry blossom wallpaper covering the lower ballroom walls, while upstairs in the Spiegelsaal much remained untouched.

WWII began and the ballhaus had to close. Many difficult years followed, and much of the city was destroyed. Bombs took out the entire front area of the house, but miraculously left both ballrooms basically intact. To this day the mirrors are the original ones, with only minor cracks visible from the bombings. Most of the damage they've experienced has come from the sun.

The original chandelier which fell during the bombing, now hangs as decoration

Clärchen was innovative, and the people loved her for it. The war officially ended in May 1945 and by July the dance hall's doors were open and the ballroom was full of dancing. Berliners cleared a path through the rubble where the front house had once stood, music was played and people danced.

But, there was also the dark side of Berlin. The East. The Russian side. During the war, the Russians took over Clärchens using it for war planning meetings. After the war, the Stasi spies were in Clärchens watching and recording what Berliners were saying and doing. Only on the dance floor were they really free. Berliners needed the music, and they needed to dance. And Clärchen did everything she could to keep things moving.  

When the Russians finally cleared out of Clärchens, she was left with all of the garbage they left behind. Horses had been living in parts of the house, materials and war remnants, along with rolls and rolls of maps were left upstairs in the Spiegelsaal. Times were extraordinarily tough for Clara, so she improvised and used all of the materials she could. She cut up the maps and had her staff use them as scrap paper to write out drink and food orders.

In 1948, Clärchen found out that her husband had a daughter from a previous relationship. She came to live with them and in 1967, after working alongside her 'new' parents, she officially took over the ballhaus.

Through the decades of the cold war and the seperation between East and West, not more obvious than the imposing Berlin Wall cutting through Berlin Mitte, Clärchens survived. Berliners kept dancing, couples fell in love and got married, and over the years Clärchens Ballhaus became known as the "Wartesaals des Glücks" (the waiting room of happiness). Couples who met and fell in love at Clärchens are still a thing.

Now, Clärchens has a large beer garden out front, the main ballroom for Sunday "tanz tees" (afternoon dancing), restaurant dining and dancing (of course), and special events, such as Oktoberfesting good times. There is also a closed-in Wintergarten (below) for private functions - a room which I immediately fell in love with.

If you find yourself in Berlin, I would highly recommend you check out Clärchens Ballhaus for an afternoon beer, an evening dance or just a tour through the magical Spiegelsaal. Walking across the creaking hardwood floors where widows, soldiers and Clärchen herself have walked before, seeing your reflection in the hundred-year-old mirror that could tell a host of stories if it could, or just watching couples gliding around the dance floor free in the music, is enchanting. I personally love being in this special place and that's why I always pop in for a visit. Maybe the next time I'll stay awhile... and dance.

If you go:

Website for reservations and Marion Kiesow's tour info:  https://claerchensball.haus/en/

freiburg...christmas spirit in the black forest

In Germany's Black Forest, so-called because of its dense, dark pines, you can spend hours or days hiking amongst gnomes and wood fairies, howling wolves and vampires. Surely, none of these things actually exist here, but I don't find it difficult for a minute to imagine they do.

The Black Forest is bordered to the west by the mighty Rhine in Germany's south-west, can wave branches to France and Switzerland, and is a beloved tourist destination for hiking, spa-ing, and cuckoo-clocking. Here is where tradition lives...and is loved.

The Black Forest inpires moments of wandering along pine-scented hiking trails, enjoying cozy, firelit evenings with steaming cups of anything, and relishing sumptuous food with names like Spätzle, Knöpfle, Gugelhupf and of course, Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte (Black Forest Cake).

Käse Spätzle (cheese noodles)

But, the Black Forest can also really do Christmas. In its largest city, Freiburg, the advent spirit of twinkle lights and mulled wine, the manger and St. Nick, children singing and adults shopping is a well-lived tradition.

Freiburg is a very old city, and even without the Christmas flair, is a beloved tourist destination for people wanting to explore the Black Forest. Founded in 1120 as a free market town, it is humming with wine connoisseurs and university students, architecture fans and witch-hunters. Well, to be honest, the witch-hunters have long gone, but the fact that there were witches here to be hunted is kind of exciting. Not for the witches who were hunted of course...I digress.

Historical Merchant's Hall

Beginning in the 1200's, and continuing on for centuries, Freiburg was a bustling town of free trade and merchant deals, as buyers and sellers made this the financial hub of the region due to its strategic position between the Mediterranean and North Seas, and its connection to the Rhine and Danube Rivers.

Freiburg Münster - a medieval cathedral

In the heart of the city, is the Freiburg Münster, an imposing medieval gothic cathedral which took over 300 years to build. Can you imagine what a thankless job it was building this, knowing even your grandchildren's children won't be seeing the finished product?

But, it does have one of the most spectacular entrances that I have ever seen. The colours and detail on every figure is awe-inspiring, not to mention the huge double wooden doors which are about two-stories high. In this case, taking their time really paid off for the (many) architects.

The Freiburg Minster has the only German gothic church tower completed in the Middle Ages and still standing today, surviving countless numbers of wars and weather. Impressively, the Minster began as a Romanesque cathedral, but ended up as Gothic.

Another interesting, and whimsical feature of Freiburg's old town is its system of Bächle. These narrow streams flow throughout the pedestrian area, and also date back to the Middle Ages when they were used to feed livestock and put out fires. They have always had fresh water running through them, and I was very happy to hear that they were never used for sewage!

Much of Freiburg's impressive buildings were somehow spared during the WWII bombing raids, including the two commanding city gates, the Schabentor and the older Martinstor. There are wooden beams in the Martinstor that date back to 1202!

Martinstor - one Freiburg's original gates

And it serves as surely one of McDonald's most impressive locations. Sigh.

But, now back to Christmas. I was visiting my dear friend, who moved to Freiburg a year ago, and had heard (from pretty much every German I know) how pretty Freiburg is and how wonderfully dreamy its Christmas market is. Germans are no liars.

I suggest, for anyone wanting to photograph a Christmas market, to go at dusk or just before dusk. That is when the lights are on, but it's not too dark to get the details in the photographs. And, because you should actually enjoy the market, leave the tripod at home.

One wonderful constant at every German Christmas market is glorious Glüwein (hot mulled wine). I love it. Red, white, rosé...it's all perfection.

And on this early December evening, our not-too-few mugs of steaming, sweet, but tart wine helped us to forget that it was pretty darn cold outside.

At many traditional German Christmas markets you will still find locally, handcrafted decorations and ornaments. Sometimes you do have to look hard , and possibly even ask if the items are made in China or Germany, but in Freiburg it was quick and easy to find the real things.

These gorgeous, tiny pewter tree ornaments were so lovely and authentic, made just around the corner, that I had to buy one.

There is also an assortment of great things to eat, including sausages from the region in all kinds of delicious flavours. These make a great treat to bring back home.

But, what we were really excited about was the Christmas market version of Raclette which isn't found at too many German Christmas markets, at least not at any I have been to.

Raclette is actually a Swiss meal (Freiburg is just 70 kms from the Swiss border), and revolves around Racelette cheese. The wheel of this alpine cheese is melted and then scraped onto potatoes and onions, often including various meats and pickles. It is yummy. Bergkäse (alpine cheese) is something you just need to try...it's so full of flavour that you don't really need much more than that.

Pretty much no European Christmas market is complete without a Striezel stand. This cone-shaped sweet bread coated in sugar and cinnamon, or almonds and cocoa, has a different name in practically every country, but the idea is the same. It's delish.

As the evening grew darker the warm glow of the lights blanketed the cobblestoned streets of the old town and the atmosphere was festive and joyful. Okay, maybe it was the glüwein warming the thousands of revellers, but hey, we were all out together enjoying the fact that it's Christmastime...a time to be together, to give of each other and be thankful for the most important gifts.

Some people have a harder time than others being joyful in a crowd, but I'm sure the Santa hat helps.

And so that no one loses sight of the real reason most of us are celebrating Christmas, the German markets pretty much always have a large nativity scene set up. This one in Freiburg was almost life-size and so pretty, but I had to really fight the urge to jump in and cover up baby Jesus. A real baby would've been screaming his brains out on that cold night. Maybe Jesus wouldn't have.

So, in these pre-Christmas weeks, I want to wish you wonderful moments with cherished friends and family. I will spend these days trying to visit more markets, one of my favourite things to do at this time of year, while appreciating the many blessings that I am surrounded by. Cheers, my friends!