The Beauty of Berlin and the U-Bahn

“I’m a big believer that you should visit somewhere simply because you haven’t. But Berlin is the kind of place you should return to again and again.”

The Berlin U-Bahn does nothing to dispel any stereotypes of German efficiency. It’s simply fantastic. No matter where you are in the city, those iconic bright yellow carriages will take you somewhere worth going. As a photographer, the whole system feels like a gift—an endlessly rich subject to explore and shoot, particularly on 35mm film.

The network itself oozes with history and surprising variety. The stations have their own personalities, from the aqua blue tiles of Alexanderplatz to the tiled curves and pill-shaped lanterns of Märkisches Museum. Mohrenstraße, with its red marble rumoured to have come from Hitler’s Chancellery, feels eerie and significant in equal measure. The cathedralesque grandeur of Heidelberger Platz actually took my breath away. I couldn’t believe a space that dramatic was part of a public transport system.

You’re not always underground either. On the U1 and U2 lines, the train emerges from the tunnels and glides above the city on elegant viaducts. You get fresh air and a new perspective all in one go. It’s a beautiful reminder of the city’s layered architecture—from classical to post-modernist—and the U-Bahn reflects that mix better than any guidebook.

Shooting the U-Bahn on 35mm was a dream. Some stations, with their strange light and shadows, were practically made for film. Cinestill 800T, in particular, was perfect—there’s something about the way it picks up even the dimmest glow.

Even with my frankly dodgy sense of direction and a mobile data plan that gives up the ghost when I need it most, I never got properly lost. The U-Bahn is just that intuitive. I’m not a great traveller—I’m uncomfortable if it’s warmer than 19 degrees or colder than 15, and my feet complain if I so much as wander into the kitchen. But the U-Bahn makes Berlin easy. Whether it’s a football fan shop tucked down a side street or one of the best pizza places I’ve ever eaten at, I always knew I could get there by train, without much fuss.

Every Berliner seems to have a view on which neighbourhood is about to become the next big thing. Lately, the answer’s been consistent: Wedding, Kreuzberg and Neukölln have had their day, apparently, and while they’re still great, Wedding is where it’s at. It’s well-connected and full of venues, pubs, and cultural events that feel properly Berlin. It’s not yet been eaten up by ‘progress’—by which I mean rising rents and a flood of developers. It’s still rough around the edges, still real.

If you’re visiting, a few basics: get the Berlin Welcome Card. It is very good value and will save you a lot of hassle. Also, German ticket checkers do not mess about, so don’t risk it. Second: don’t stick to the centre. Head north to Wedding, east to Pankow, west to the Olympiastadion. In the summer, go south to the lakes. Third: visit Museum Island. It’s beautiful, fascinating, and full of stolen artefacts that will make you question who history really belongs to. Wander, look up, and take it in.

I’m a big believer that you should visit somewhere simply because you haven’t. But Berlin is the kind of place you should return to again and again. The city changes so quickly that each time you come back, you’re greeted with a different version of it. Districts rise and fall in popularity. Places you once felt were gritty and unknown suddenly have tourists lining up for ice cream. It morphs. And that’s what makes Berlin what it is.

But the U-Bahn stays. Through the city’s countless phases, from Prussian grandeur to Cold War division to techno revolution, it’s been there, ferrying people quietly from A to B. It’s the thread that ties the city together, one yellow train at a time.

And it’s a handsome beast.