A couple times this vacation, I've felt like we've stumbled into a scene from the Jacques Tati masterpiece, "Playtime."
The first time was in Kassel, when H and I went up a short alley to check out a cafe we spied at the end. Midway, a crew of young people seemed to be working at cross purposes to prepare a cavernous space for some sort of popup caberet or disco to be held later that day. As we retraced our steps to the mouth of the alley, a young man determined that a fifteen foot ladder should be removed, and he swung the ladder like a gate, serendipitously admitting a middle aged couple bearing a pizza box, and letting us out the other side. As we met the sidewalk on the perpendicular street, bicyclists and a pram whizzed by in opposite directions. The movements could hardly have been better choreographed.
The second was midday today in Berlin, when we transitioned from the charming, Greenwich-village like Savignyplatz to the post-war, master-planned scale of Ernst-Reuter-Platz. Here it was not the pedestrian ballet that recalled Tati, but instead a comedy of autos, trucks and buses parading in a roundabout, set within an arrangement of post-war rectangular office towers. The three pictures in this post are of Ernst-Reuter-Platz.