Travel gives me the chance to meet people, listen to their stories, and understand how they see the world. From Europe and the United States to Russia and China, I am interested in everyday life; how people work, think, and adapt to change across urban and rural landscapes.
Seeing places firsthand helps me look beyond political narratives and form my own perspective. Cities and urban spaces, in particular, make Urban Geopolitics visible. They show how global dynamics shape daily life, social relations, and local realities.
For me, travel is about exchange and observation; learning from others, discovering the many beauties of our world, and recognizing what connects us across borders.
Urban Geopolitics, Lively Discussed: Potsdam’s Lived and Experienced Fault Lines
From the legendary terrace restaurant “Minsk” of the 1970s to today’s “Minsk Kunsthaus”. Once a place of numerous family celebrations, it later fell into decay and ruin. The “Minsk” became the subject of fierce debates over the preservation of GDR architecture and East German modernism, the “Ostmoderne”. It ultimately reopened as a space for contemporary art.
It is not just a few places, but a dense urban landscape that allows urban geopolitics to be experienced firsthand. Potsdam brings together the Prussian legacy of a former royal residence city; “Sanssouci Schloss” as a symbol of Enlightenment and power; the controversial reconstruction of the tower of the “Garnisonkirche” which now hosts a bridge-building exhibition fostering dialogue in mutual respect, reflection, and critical historical awareness; an exhibition that deeply impressed me.
And nearby, the former Rechenzentrum Potsdam. Once a VEB for Mechanical Data Processing and today a vibrant art and creative hub. It is located on the historic foundations and grounds of the former nave of the "Garnisonkirche", which was destroyed during the war and later deliberately demolished in June 1968.
On its façade, the listed mosaic cycle “Der Mensch bezwingt den Kosmos” still embodies witness to socialist visions of progress, technology, and humanity’s place in the universe.
Potsdam’s urban geopolitics shows that the facets of German history find their rightful place here; not erased, not harmonized, but actively lived and negotiated through lively and heated discussions.
These fault lines are not spaces of division, but spaces of dialogue, memory, and new beginnings. They point towards an open and peaceful way of navigating geopolitics within urban spaces and landscapes.
Urban Geopolitics: Berlin’s Symbols of Strategic Connectivity in a Multipolar World
One of my favorite places in Berlin is the ferry terminal in Kladow. The Havel flows calmly; a cheerful Berlin bear stands nearby; beer gardens are filled with quiet conversations. Everyday life unfolds almost rurally.
At first glance, places like this seem far removed from politics, conflict, and the global order. Yet they reveal Berlin’s hidden charm and remind us what geopolitics ultimately serves; peaceful everyday life, continuity, and social calm.
A short distance away, the International Congress Center tells another story. For 49 hours, the iconic “ICC spaceship” opened its doors. Futuristic red and blue light installations transformed the building into a journey through space and time. Once a symbol of international exchange, “the Brain” once again became a meeting point for visitors from around the world.
From Kladow’s quiet everyday symbols to the ICC, Berlin’s history of division gives the city a unique authority to act as a bridge. Berlin understands rupture and reconnection. It knows what it means to live with geopolitical fault lines and to overcome them.
It will take time. Yet the ICC is already re-emerging as a symbol of strategic connectivity, international dialogue, and cultural diplomacy, pointing toward a meaningful future in a multipolar world. Multipolarity does not erase the human dimension of geopolitics. It challenges cities like Berlin to protect calm, connection, and social cohesion amid global change.
Königsberg without Kant would be simply unthinkable. In 1864 the Kant monument was erected on Paradeplatz in Königsberg, the very square where my grandfather once had to line up for parade. After the turmoil of the war, the monument disappeared. A fundraising campaign was launched on the initiative of Marion Gräfin Dönhoff, and the Berlin sculptor Harald Haacke created a replica of the original statue. Since 1992 Kant has once again presided over Paradeplatz, opposite the Immanuel Kant University, formerly the Albertus University.
“Salut Montaigne” — Opposite the Sorbonne on Rue des Écoles sits Montaigne, perfectly at ease. According to tradition, touching his right foot during exam season brings good luck. And yes, it has worked wonderfully for me as well.
With little Grandfather Karl sitting on the Honey Bridge, the Königsberg Homlin family returned in 2018. Grandmother Martha reappeared in the Amber Museum like a gentle memory. Soon came “Witja” and “Ulja” and then Papa “Leo Homlin”. These tender household spirits live hidden among us and quietly bring good fortune to those who believe in them.
Homlins give shape to amber treasures and a few of them have already found a home with me. And in their own timeless way, more amber wonders are certain to find their place in my home.
Outside lies a breathtaking Russian winter landscape at the former summer residence of the tsars in Pushkin, about 25 kilometers from St. Petersburg. Inside, the reconstructed Amber Room shines once again in its old splendor and magnificence. Originally located in the Berliner Stadtschloss, from Frederick William I presented as a gift to Tzar Peter the Great, the amber room was installed the Catherine Palace in Pushkin.
In 1941, the Amber Room was dismantled by the Wehrmacht and taken to the Königsberger Schloss.
From 1944 onward its trail vanished, and numerous mysteries surround its fate: Was it burned in Königsberger Schloss, sunk with the refugee ship Gustloff, or packed into crates and stored in several hidden locations across Germany? The final assumptions seem to the most plausible, as a small amber chest belonging to the Amber Room was discovered in an attic in 1997. Today, it can be admired in the reconstructed Amber Room.
Geopolitics and the Art of Keeping Out Evil Spirits
In China, the unseen world is richly populated. Benevolent spirits move quietly alongside hungry ghosts and spirits without a fixed abode, lingering at the margins of existence; invisible, yet never without consequence.
Tradition offers ways to deal with them. Evil spirits, it is said, can move only in straight lines. That is why bridges and pathways are built in zigzags, confusing those unable to bend or adapt. Where no such bridge exists, a low threshold will do. Evil spirits have no knees; they cannot bow. They turn away.
Geopolitics is haunted by similar presences.
They, too, move in straight lines; rigid narratives, fixed alliances, absolute truths. They appear at summits and negotiations, convinced that power alone guarantees peace. They also lack knees; no patience for compromise, no inclination toward understanding.
In a multipolar world, peace cannot be achieved by marching straight ahead. It requires detours, dialogue, and the willingness to bend. The principles of the UN Charter point precisely in this direction; toward restraint, mutual recognition, and genuine understanding.
May gentle spirits protect us.
Tempelhof - a Myth
Abandoned, and yet unmistakably alive. Endless corridors; a former "chow hall" of the USAF; towering ceilings; marble. Past and present overlap here. Planned futures, abandoned dreams, and new realities coexist within the same walls.
The legendary departure hall, 120 meters long, feels suspended in time. It seems as though a passenger has only just retrieved a suitcase from the baggage carousel; as if the last guests have merely stepped out of the restaurant, laughing, leaving behind the murmur of voices and the clink of glasses.
Tempelhof whispers constantly. One only has to listen carefully. And before long, one finds oneself immersed in the layered, unsettled, and deeply moving history of this place.
What was once conceived as a grand ballroom never came to be. Instead, the space was repurposed as a sports field for the US Airforce, the “Berlin Braves.” Tempelhof was a kind of US city for the American soldiers stationed in Berlin, complete with shopping facilities, a hairdresser, and a kindergarten. A self-contained American world within the formerly divided city.
And then my imagination takes over. In the long corridors, my mind drifts. Suddenly, the image of the twins from "The Shining" appears, standing still, whispering: “Come and play with us.”
Tempelhof and the Quiet Continuity of a Myth
After reunification, confusion prevailed. Tempelhof reflected the end of an era.
From 1949 to 1990, the Berlin Air Route Traffic Center of the three Western Allies, the United States, Great Britain, and France, secured the 3 air corridors between West Berlin and West Germany.
These corridors functioned as the lifeline to West Berlin, as an airborne bridge, ensuring access, supply, and uninterrupted communication with West Germany. Today, the Air Route Traffic Center is empty, as are the former apartments of US soldiers. No one knows where all went.
Structures remained; the narrative shifted, but the myth endured.
"Petrine und Pauline werden diese zwo benannt"
Even Petrine and Pauline seem at a loss. They, too, cannot say where everything disappeared to.
Below Tempelhof Airport, the underground shelters reveal another layer of history, a human story. During air raids, civilians sought protection here. On the walls, a highly talented and perceptive artist left drawings inspired by Wilhelm Busch. They offered moments of encouragement and mental distance from fear and uncertainty.
Even in its simplest manifestations, culture is a stabilizing element. It offers comfort in times of fear; It counterbalanced the harsh realities of war.
One of the most beautiful views of the radio tower on the Wannsee Island can be enjoyed from Schiffbauergasse in Potsdam. Especially at dawn, the tower glows in a sea of colors ranging from purple to yellow and orange. When it first went into operation in 1964, the radio tower served to set up microwave links to West Germany across the former territory of the GDR. Today, it secures our mobile communications and houses transmitting stations, for both analog and digital radio broadcasting.
So, let us stay tuned to the signals reaching us from around the world.