BIKE ADVENTURES
Gothic vs. Bauhaus: a 100-km bike journey from Bernau to Eberswalde
Bauhaus masterpieces, brick Gothic, and a tree with a penis
Saturday morning, 5 a.m. The alarm I had set, hoping I wouldn’t be too lazy, rang insanely. I woke up, ate a small snack with coffee, and left the house. The streets were deserted, and the anticipation of a relaxing sunny day hovered in the air.
First, I took a train to Buch, a station at Berlin’s northeast boundary. While comfortably sitting in an almost empty train, I used this hour or so to form a preliminary list of places to visit.
And the first place on my list was a century-old water tower in Buch. I learned about it three years ago while gathering material for my overview of old water towers in Berlin, but never got there.
Searching for a route to the tower, I stumbled upon a group of Dutch-style houses — the former III Municipal Mental Asylum (1900–1907). It included more than 40 buildings for about 1800 patients and was an exemplary hospital design of its time.
I passed the asylum area only to enter another turn-of-the-century medical institution, the so-called “Old People’s Home” (1905–1909). Nowadays, we’d call it a hospice. It was designed as an idyllic small town for 1500 residents and included the water tower I searched for.
The tower stuck from behind the hedge. Its top resembled half-timbered houses, while the rest was pretty plain.
Maybe I’ll return to Buch someday to explore its old hospitals and gardens more thoroughly, but many other exciting sites awaited me ahead.
I was on my way to Bernau, a medieval town adjacent to Berlin, and rode through the village of Pankethal. The air was filled with the bees’ hum and the sour-sweet scent of flowers.
Pankethal looked like a typical German village with nothing remarkable apart from a heavily remodeled Gothic church and several vintage houses along the central street.
On the boundary of Pankethal and Bernau, I noticed an empty stall with the acid-yellow and pink signboards “Fresh strawberry” and “Asparagus from Beelitz” (Beelitz is a town south of Berlin famous for being a regional “asparagus capital” — I may write about it next time).
So, I approached Bernau from the south, wondering what that enormous blue cylinder was. I googled it and discovered it was a 19th-century gas plant with a 21-meter-high gas tank (1931). The tank stood abandoned for a long time until the 1990s renovation. Today, it’s one of Bernau’s landmarks.
Bernau is famous for its medieval heritage, including walls and towers. But before I show you all this beauty, let’s look at this exquisite door with the depiction of a heron, a snake-like handle, and a lizard-shaped boot scraper. Cuteness overload!
And now something really ancient. The oldest residential building in the town — Kantorhaus — with the year 1583 inscribed on its facade. This Renaissance house was surrounded by modern residential blocks, which made it look even more impressive.
I examined the Kantorhaus from all sides and turned to the street that ran along the wall around the historical center. I’ve probably never seen such a close neighborhood of modern all-rectangular architecture and Gothic fortifications.
The first defensive tower I encountered was the 29-meter-high Gunpowder Tower, built around 1380, together with other fortifications. It was nicely lit by the gentle morning sun.
On the opposite side of the city center, there were the other two well-preserved towers — the Stone Gate and Hunger Tower. It’s usually busy here but not early in the morning. I was lucky to see this area almost empty (not counting a couple of parked cars).
Of course, such a medieval city must have a no less ancient temple. St. Mary’s Church of Bernau was built around 1240 as a Romanesque basilica and then remodeled several times in the following centuries in the Gothic style. The original fieldstone tower was demolished in 1839 and replaced with the current brick tower.
Below is a photo I had taken a week earlier because the front facade was hidden in the shadow during my bicycle journey.
And here is a morning photo of the church from behind. The sun lit its red brickwork, and it looked like a hot stove.
I needed to refuel before continuing my journey. While chewing a chicken-pineapple toast at a cafe nearby, I learned the church had a 5-centuries-old Gothic altarpiece; unfortunately, it would open only at 2 p.m., and I couldn’t wait that long.
Before leaving Bernau, I wanted to check out a Modernist masterpiece of the Bauhaus architecture school — something completely different from the medieval heritage we’ve just seen. But it was located in the middle of a forest on the town’s outskirts.
I was riding to that Modernist place, but suddenly another brick tower emerged in the distance. Wait a minute, why was it so far from other fortifications? But when I came closer, it turned out to be a not-so-old water tower (1909–1910) inspired by the town’s Gothic spirit.
Like historical architecture? Then follow my Instagram with architecture photos every day — from 🏰 Gothic to 🏢 Modernism.
In 15 minutes, I reached the ADGB Trade Union School (1928–1930) by Swiss architect Hannes Meyer. Yeah, this yellow-brick campus might not impress a modern sightseer accustomed to minimalist, barely decorated architecture, but it was a contemporary and innovative design back then.
Try this: find old photographs of cars and fashion of the 1930s, and you’ll understand how sci-fi such houses must’ve looked in the times of their construction. No surprise, the Bauhaus buildings of Bernau, Dessau, and Weimar are a UNESCO World Heritage site.
This complex embodies the Bauhaus philosophy, i.e., focusing on the function of the building and meeting its users’ needs. The Bauhaus movement taught architects to analyze the client’s requirements as well as the site topography. For example, one can use natural slopes and orient a building in a way classrooms will be naturally sunlit.
In this school, trade union administrators and leaders studied labor law, industrial hygiene, management, and economics. The complex included accommodation and catering for both teachers and students.
Judging by the blue-and-yellow flags and announcements on the facade, I assumed this place hosted Ukrainian refugees who escaped the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine. Russian Federation (and its previous incarnations — the Soviet Union and Tsardom of Muscovy) has been trying to erase Ukraine for centuries. I hope invaders will soon be defeated once and for all and will pay in full for all their war crimes.
I rode toward Eberswalde through the forest; it was not the straightest path, but I enjoyed the serene nature around. I took the “Walking” route to avoid highways with roaring trucks and honking cars. After an hour of pedaling, I noticed a church spire on the horizon. It was Biesenthal, a lovely agrarian town halfway to Eberswalde.
According to the tourist map at the crossroad, Biesenthal had several sites, including the church I spotted from afar. So, I came closer and saw a weird mix of Gothic (fieldstone tower base) and Baroque (decorated windows) architecture; the original 13th-century building was destroyed in the 1756 fire and then extensively rebuilt.
I also spotted Biesenthal’s gorgeous half-timbered town hall, which I would photograph in softer evening lighting on my way home, and a turn-of-the-century lookout tower on a hill.
The tower stood in the place of a medieval castle Bizdal (hence the modern town name), which was erected on two neighboring hills connected by a bridge. Sadly, the castle was dismantled long ago, and you can only find the remains of its foundation. By the way, the Biesenthal area was initially settled by Slavs, and Germans tried to drive them away several times until they finally succeeded in the 10th century.
Meanwhile, I had already left the town and was moving down the forest road. This part of the journey was nothing interesting — and in less than an hour, I finally reached Eberswalde!
A bunch of quick facts:
- The town of Everswolde (“forest of the boars”) was founded by the Margrave of Brandenburg in 1254 as a hub of regional trade routes.
- In 1499, a fire devastated Eberswalde, but after rebuilding, it became the region’s first industrial town specializing in metallurgy.
- Germany’s largest prehistoric assembly of 81 gold objects was found near Eberswalde in 1913. It was a Bronze Age hoard of bowls, neck rings, bracelets, and wire arm spirals — weighing over 2.5 kilograms! However, the Soviets looted this treasure at the end of the Second World War and exhibited it in Moscow. (I hope that someday the Soviet regime of evil will be rightly condemned in the same way as the Nazis).
St. Mary Magdalene’s Church (1285–1333) in Eberswalde is one of the most striking High Gothic temples in the region of Brandenburg. Apart from a well-reserved exterior, it has 16th-century wall paintings and a fantastic Renaissance altar (1606).
Besides, Eberswalde has several ancient half-timbered houses (which you won’t find in the center of war-devastated Berlin). I’d like to show two of them to you; interestingly, both are pharmacies.
- “Lion Pharmacy” was built as a residential house for the town mayor in 1703. Since 1794 it has housed an apothecary.
- “Eagle Pharmacy” is the oldest house in Eberswalde. It had been used as a pharmacy from 1623 until recently when, after extensive restoration, it was converted into a local lore museum and tourist office.
At this moment, I realized how hungry I was. One of the information boards on the main square told a story of a local specialty — spritzkuchen — a crispy donut with cream on top. The Eberswalde spritzkuchen was created by Berlin pastry chef Gustav Louis Zietemann in 1832, and people often bought them at a railway station before boarding a train.
I ordered a spritzkuchen at a cafe in the town center and was going to grab a flat white, but the cashier asked me what it was, and I explained that I basically wanted coffee with milk… Yeah, my hipster, big-city vocabulary didn’t work here.
I thought I could return home, but then I caught another interesting place on the map — the Chorin Abbey — a striking example of Brick Gothic architecture. It was just six kilometers north of Eberswalde. In addition, the sun was nearing the horizon, and I could take a picture of the abbey during the “golden hour”!
It took me 30 minutes to get there.
Chorin Abbey was built in 1258 and had a huge influence far beyond the Margraviate of Brandenburg, including the areas settled by Slavs. It belongs to a network of German-Polish medieval monasteries located along the modern-day border between the two countries.
Chorin Monastery fell into decay in the 16–19th centuries but was later restored under the supervision of Karl Friedrich Schinkel (the renowned architect who designed many buildings in Berlin’s center).
I looked around and marveled at the blooming nature near the abbey, but I could stay longer since I wanted to be at home by midnight.
It was time to finish my journey. I chose a slightly different path, not to ride through the area I had already seen.
This time I skipped the center of Eberswalde and visited perhaps the strangest local landmark — a beech tree with a penis. It is even marked on Google Maps! Of course, I wrote a five-star review.
Remember I mentioned the ancient town hall of Biesenthal? So, on my way back, I finally took a nice picture in gentle light, not an overexposed photo against the sun.
It was almost a full moon, and the sky turned purple. I didn’t see many people in the afternoon, but then they completely disappeared from the streets. Only lone cars passed me from time to time.
It got chilly but not cold, so I didn’t risk freezing, unlike my winter bike adventures. Besides, I took a lot of carb snacks remembering the lessons of my ride to Jüterbog last month when I got soaked to the skin under the rain and had to spend the night at a gas station cafe.
According to Strava, such journeys burn 3500–4000 calories, so naturally, I didn’t even notice how I munched all the snacks.
I moved much faster than in the morning because there was not much to gaze at. Besides, I was listening to classic rock and heavy metal (my Bluetooth speaker was tightly strapped to the bike frame).
I arrived in Bernau when it was dark and took the train to Berlin. To stay awake on the train, I watched the “Pink Panther” cartoon and replayed the impressions of that day in my mind.
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