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VIRTUAL REALITY

30 years on, Berlin Wall comes back to life with virtual reality

Even 30 years after the fall of the Wall, time travel is not yet possible. But a German startup using virtual reality technology is offering history buffs what it calls the next best thing.

30 years on, Berlin Wall comes back to life with virtual reality
Jonas Rothe, founder of TimeRide, showing off his virtual reality devise near Berlin's CheckPoint Charlie. Photo: DPA

A packed bus approaches Checkpoint Charlie, the Cold War's most famous border crossing, as grim-faced East German guards whisper among themselves about whether to hold you for questioning.

After a few heart-stopping minutes, you and your fellow passengers are free to pass into the smog, soot and shadowy intrigue of 1980s East Berlin.

“Our idea was that if we can't take you back in time yet, let's try to create the perfect illusion of it,” TimeRide founder Jonas Rothe, 33, told AFP.

“This isn't a museum and we don't want to be. We want to let you lose yourself in the feeling of being a participant in history.”

TimeRide Berlin opened in late August ahead of celebrations of the 30th anniversary of the triumphant fall of the Wall on November 9, 1989 in a peaceful people's revolution.

It taps into a growing desire for “authentic”, interactive and immersive historical tourism, Rothe said, especially in a cityscape that has undergone a dramatic transformation in those three decades.

The Palast der Republik, Berlin's TV Tower and the Berlin Cathedral from behind the Wall, as scene through virtual reality. Photo: DPA

Where's the Wall?

Many tourists are disappointed to find few traces left of the loathed barrier that divided Berlin for nearly 28 years, which was rapidly torn down in the rush toward reunification in 1990 and its aftermath.

Rothe, who was born in the eastern city of Dresden but just a toddler when the Wall came crashing down, said he wanted to give his customers a vivid sense of a lost world.

TimeRide guests get a quick introduction into how vanquished Germany was divided into sectors after World War II, and how the communist authorities in 1961 sealed the border overnight to stop a mass exodus to the west.

In the next room, three protagonists — a rebellious tile layer, a disillusioned true believer, and a West Berlin punk who spent a lot of time in the east's underground scene — introduce themselves via a video screen.

Visitors choose one of the trio to “lead” them on the tour, then board a mockup bus and slip on a pair of VR goggles.

The “ride” takes in the tense border crossing, the elegant Gendarmenmarkt square with its two cathedrals still bearing heavy damage from World War II, and new pre-fab high rises on Leipziger Strasse that were then the height of residential luxury.

Stasi agents keep not-so-subtle tabs on citizens from unmarked cars, while consumers queue up for scarce fresh produce and communist propaganda spouts from megaphones.

Rothe said he aimed to create a fully immersive experience.

“Of course smell has the strongest connection to memory but it's not easy to recreate without giving people a headache,” he quipped, thinking in particular of the unmistakable stench of exhaust from East German Trabant cars.

The bus ride reaches its finale at the Palace of the Republic, a pleasure palace as well as home of the rubber-stamp parliament which was demolished in 2008, and features actual footage of the joyous fall of the Berlin Wall.

“Those images never fail to move people — it was a decisive turning point in the history of Germany, Europe and the whole world.”   

Founder Jonas Rothe explains TimeRide and shows how it works.

'Old spy movies'

Business has been brisk in the weeks ahead of the anniversary.

Colin MacLean, 47, a Scottish IT professional, said he had come to learn more about East Germany because his wife grew up under communism, and he's a fan of Cold War thrillers.

“I like that kind of melancholic feeling that you get from old spy movies and stuff — big squares with just two people walking over them, that kind of thing,” he said.

Robert Meyer, a 55-year-old west German, often used to visit family living on the other side of the Wall.

“The way they showed the border crossing was so real,” said Meyer, who works in aviation safety.

“You'd have these guards and you were powerless before them — they could just treat you like they wanted.”

His wife Iris Rodriguez, 47, a restaurant owner originally from the Dominican Republic, said the “happy ending” had touched her.

“It was like everyone was in prison and in the end they came free,” she said. “Thank God all that's over.”

'Really be careful'

For all the frisson of border crossings and Stasi surveillance when seen with historical distance, the real-life suffering of dissidents under communist rule should not be taken lightly, Rothe said.

“What we don't show are the escapes, and in particular the deaths at the Wall.”

An estimated 327 people perished trying to cross the border between East. and West Germany to freedom, according to a government-commissioned study whose findings, however, remain disputed.

Rothe said that given the massive potential interest he could imagine offering a Nazi-era tour, but that the historical taboos would make it riskier.

“You'd have to really be careful about what you'd show and how respectfully you'd do it,” he said.

“You'd have to shine a light on all sides so that there would be no issue of glorifying anything, or showing anything that was unbearable.”

Anna Kaminsky, head of the publicly funded Foundation for the Study of Communist Dictatorship in East Germany, said that although young Germans were not always very well-informed about the Cold War, they tell pollsters they are very interested.

“It's essential to use new technology to teach the next generation about that period, and to give them a sense of what it felt like to live behind the Wall,” she told AFP. 

By Deborah Cole

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BERLIN WALL

‘Wall of Shame’: How the Berlin Wall went up 60 years ago

In the early hours of Sunday, August 13th, 1961, communist East Germany's authorities began building the Berlin Wall, cutting the city in two and plugging the last remaining gap in the Iron Curtain.

'Wall of Shame': How the Berlin Wall went up 60 years ago
A cyclist passes the Berlin Wall memorial on Bernauer Straße in Berlin. The wall was erected 60 years ago on August 13th, 1961. Photo: picture alliance/dpa | Jörg Carstensen

Rumours that the border between East and West Berlin was about to be closed had been swirling for 48 hours.

On Friday, the parliament or People’s Chamber of communist German Democratic Republic (GDR) had given the green light to take any measures necessary to halt the exodus of its population westwards.

READ ALSO: What it was like voting as an American in Germany right before the Berlin Wall fell

Over the preceding 12 years, more than three million citizens had fled the strict regime, opting for the freedom and prosperity offered by West Germany.

News flashes

At 4:01 am on that Sunday, a top-priority AFP flash dated Berlin hit the wire: “The army and Volkspolizei are massing at the edge of the Eastern and Western sectors of Berlin to block passage.”

In a second flash, the story was firmed up. “Berlin’s metropolitan trains have for the past two hours not been going from one sector to the other.”

Then one flash after another fell:
   
– 4:28 am:  “The GDR’s Council of Ministers has decided to put in place at its borders, even at those with the western sector of Berlin, the checks usual at borders of a sovereign state.”

– 4:36 am: “An order from the East German interior ministry forbids the country’s inhabitants to go to East Berlin if they do not work there.”

– 4:50 am: “Inhabitants of East Berlin are forbidden to work in West Berlin, according to a decision by the East Berlin city authorities.”

Barbed wire and guns

In the very early morning, AFP’s correspondent at the scene described the situation on the ground.

“Barbed wire fences and defensive spikes have been put in place overnight to hermetically seal the border between East Berlin and West Berlin.

READ ALSO: What happened during Germany’s ‘catastrophic winter’ of 78/79?

“The road is practically cut off for refugees.

“Most of the crossing points between the two sides of the city have been cut off since sunrise and are heavily guarded by the police patrolling with machine guns on their shoulders.

“Only 13 border crossings remain open between the two Berlins, controlled by numerous reinforced units of armed police.


A sign on the wall next to Brandenburg Gate reads: “The wall is coming down – not in 30, 50 or 100 years.” This photo was taken a year before the wall fell. Photo: picture alliance/dpa | Wolfgang Kumm

Dramatic escape

“Germans from East Berlin can no longer go to the West without a special pass, the controls are excessively strict.

“As the net falls over the communist part of the city, a young Berliner from the East manages against all odds to ram with his car the barbed wire separating the two sectors of the city.

“Seeing the young man arriving at high speed in a Volkswagen, the police were too taken off guard to be able to stop the car, which carried the barbed wire placed across the street right to the French sector,” AFP wrote.

‘Death strip”

Little by little, the kilometres of barbed wire will give way to a 43-kilometre-long (27-mile-long) concrete wall cutting the city in two from north to south.

Another outer wall, 112 kilometres (70 miles) long, cuts off the enclave of West Berlin and its two million inhabitants from the GDR.

Constantly upgraded over its 28 years of existence, more than 100 kilometres (60 miles) of the wall is made up of slabs of reinforced concrete, 3.60 metres (12 feet) high, crowned with a cylinder without a grip making it almost impossible to climb.

The remainder is made of metal wire.

Along the eastern side of what is widely called the “wall of shame” stands a “no man’s land”, 300 metres (990 feet) deep in places.


Border soldiers from the DDR look over the wall in May 28th, 1988. Photo: picture alliance/dpa | Wolfgang Kumm

At the foot of the wall a “death strip” made up of carefully raked ground to make it possible to spot footprints, is equipped with installations that set off automatic gunfire and mines.

However hermetic this formidable “anti-fascist protection rampart”, as it was officially known, would be, it would not prevent the escape of nearly 5,000 people until it fell on November 9th, 1989. Around 100 fugitives lost their lives trying to cross over.

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