Roger Waters - Live at the Berlin Wall 1990

The following excerpt is taken from my journal while backpacking in Europe in the summer of 1990. Please keep in mind that I was an excitable 22 year old writer back then full of bright-eyed enthusiasm - and exclamation marks. :)

Thursday, July 19th, 1990

Right now I'm on a Versailles, France train bound for Berlin - we just left the Palace of Versailles. It was an immaculate wonder to behold - gardens that go beyond words. Our mission to Berlin requires a pit stop in Amsterdam. Wex, Rip (my travel buddies) and I bought sleeping bags and plan to camp out at the Berlin Wall for 2 days so we can a) score tickets or b) get a great spot if we can't get tickets. From what I keep hearing, this is going to be the largest concert ever produced - even bigger than Woodstock. And this is a historical day - the final piece of the Berlin Wall will come crashing down after the show. Expected attendance: 500,000!!!

Look at the sheer magnitude of that crowd in front of that gargantuan stage:


I've set myself on autodrive to get to this show since I found out about it 2 weeks ago - while laying on a raft in the Aegean Sea in Ios, Greece. How did I find out? A topless 21 year-old asked me if I was going to see Roger Waters perform the Wall at the Berlin Wall. WHAT??? The sheer enormity of that question dropped me clean off my raft - I was completely dumbstruck at what she just asked me. Ever since that moment, I've never been more determined to see one event in my life. This isn't only a concert - this is a day that will go down in history - the Fall of the Wall. This is by far the pinnacle event of my European summer - and it just so happens that it's the finale of the trip - nothing could possibly describe my thoughts at this point. On one hand, I've just been through the greatest 7 weeks of my life and on the other hand, I'm going to be at the greatest musical event in history - and to see Roger Waters perform The WALL in it's entirety!!!

When Rip, Wex & I arrived in Amsterdam, we got hooked up in a private home with absolutely the coolest chick. Her name is Camille and she is a 28 year old from NY that has been living in Holland for 7 years. She picked us up at the train station and we went out at 1am till about 4am and an all night party session till the sun came up! I'm telling you - Amsterdam is the coolest city - so laid back an full of hilarious "shady" characters!

The next day we had a gigantic breakfast that Camille fixed us and we partied all day in every coffeehouse we wandered into. Especially cool places: Easy Times Cafe - they played all reggae, tons of Black Uhuru. Staying with Camille was such a pleasure - she had an apartment right on the canal on the west side so we were able to see the sunset. Also, after 7 weeks on the road, I was yearning for the comforts and simple pleasures of home.

Later that evening it was time to catch our train for Berlin. The train station in Amsterdam was a mob scene! There was a 6 hour wait for information - so basically we are winging this part of the trip by just hopping on trains without a reservation. I'm on a guided mission from the big music man in the sky to get to Berlin for this show - nonstop baby, nonstop!

When we arrived in Berlin - we found some cool guys in the Central Berlin square who are staying with their Grandma so they asked us if we needed a place to sleep - what luck!!! Not even the most expensive hotels had rooms!! People were sleeping in the streets everywhere - just like Pamplona, Spain for the Running of the Bulls at the beginning of the trip. So many people flooded Berlin for the event, there was no hotel available to sleep - especially for wayward backpackers.




Friday July 20th, 1990
Well my quest is 1 step from realization! We HAVE TICKETS!!! We woke up at 7am and raced to the ticket office and we got front entrance seats!!! I'm telling you, I'm on autodrive, baby - I am sooo pumped!

[later that night] Right now, me and the boys are camped out in a soft grassy campground across from the stage in the Potzdamer Platz (the area where the show will be held). We are able to hear the soundcheck - "Comfortably Numb" - OMG - the stage is ENORMOUS! Just before camping out, we hammered off pieces of the Berlin Wall - both East & West Berlin sides. East Berlin is desolate and gray, while the West is lively and full of bright lights. Berlin is definitely a happening city after dark.


Image highlights from the Wall Live in Berlin 1990


350,000 fans at that Potsdamer Platz - site of the concert performance of The Wall






Sunday, July 22nd, 1990 (post show)
THE WALL was more than anything I imagined!!! It was a production of such colossal size and magnitude that it was like watching a higher intelligence from another planet perform a spectacle no man has ever seen. It was definitely the most grandiose event ever stage in the history of mankind - and I felt so honored and so beyond lucky to be there. [Editor's note: as you can see, I was fumbling terribly for words to describe this - so go ahead - and laugh it's hilarious - read that 2nd sentence again - classic!]

After awaking at 8am from our sleeping bags, I felt like I was living off the land - I hadn't showered in days, I've been sleeping on the ground and I lost my deodorant! It was Woodstock in Berlin! Anyway it all added to the greatest feeling of "being there" for that incredible event! All of the money from the ticket sales went to the Memorial Fund for Disaster Relief - those who need aid and supplies from hurricanes, earthquakes, floods, etc. Roger Water's performance of The Wall was a cry for the tearing down of communication barriers around the world. Plus the WALL itself is an undeniable Masterpiece! I've never been so affected by one man's music - and I think all 350,000 people at this show feel the same way. You could see the passion and excitement in people's eyes during the show - the energy was so great! The word was that there were about 350,000 people at the show. Staggering!

All points in the my life course pointed to Berlin and July 21st for me. It was destiny that I attended this show. Everything fell into place - all the way from start of my quest - back in Ios, Greece. Plus it was a weekend in Berlin I could never forget. I was so driven to see this show, my travel buds called me Obi Wan Kanobi - I used the force to guide my two jedi knights to the Berlin Wall to see the show together.

I had the experience of a lifetime, the show was unbelievable - beyond words - but its time for me to go home now. The Wall was the ultimate climax to a trip that has been a climax almost every day.



Roger Waters performance of The Wall in Berlin in 1990 was held on vacant terrain between Potsdamer Platz and the Brandenburg Gate (a location which was part of the former "no-man's land" of the Berlin Wall), this concert was even bigger than the Pink Floyd era ones, as Waters built a 550-foot long and 82-foot high wall, which was broken down in the same show. The show had a sell-out crowd of over 250,000 people, and right before the performance started the gates were opened which enabled another 100,000 people to watch. For more info about this incredible event, see the Wikipedia entry here.

I decided to add an additional photograph to complete my journal entry on Berlin. This was taken by master HDR photography, Klaus Herrmann. I thought it was a fitting final photograph to close the chapter on the Berlin Wall and the divide between East and West Germany.

From Klaus, this is the story of this photo:
The Brandenburg Gate is one of the most famous and symbolic places in Berlin and probably in all of Europe. The Berlin wall was right in front of the gate, leaving it as a sign of imprisonment on the eastern side. He took this shot from Pariser Platz on the east side (former German Democratic Republic). When the Berlin wall was built, this place became the “death zone” where nobody could go. After the reunification in 1990, it became the center of the city again, this time being perceived as a symbol for peace and reunification.

HDR photograph by Klaus Herrmann

Barcelona, Salvidor Dali Theater, The Palace of Versailles

Monday, July 16, 1990

After the Running of the Bulls, I was on a mission to get to Berlin for the Roger Water's performance of the The Wall. However, Danny did not want to visit Germany and we split off. He was my main runnin' pardner going the distance with me for the longest stretch of the trip. I wish him well as he wraps up his European journey - what an experience we had! I was psyched to re-connect again with Alan and Marc for a small stretch north into Barcelona, Bordeaux and the Palace of Versailles! It's also at this point that I met two traveling buddies from the south at University of Georgia who were traveling to Amsterdam, Rip and Wex. They didn't know it yet, but they would be on a whirlwind tour straight to the front of the stage of Roger Waters.


HDR photo by Paul C Reus

Marc, Al, Rip, Wex and I arrived in Barcelona, got off the train and were dumbstruck at the size of the train station. It was a massive city within a city. Too bad Spain couldn't get their act together and give us basic information from one place - instead they sent us all over station and we ended up there for 2 hours simply trying to get train information for connecting trains north. After checking into our hotel, we went for dinner along La Rambla, the grand central walkway with beautiful tall lighted trees, sidewalk cafes and lots of beautiful people strolling by. It reminded me of a smaller but equally enjoyable Champs de Elyses in Paris. Las Rambla eventually led us to the Magic Fountains which were stunning in their grandeur! Even though we were in Barcelona, we had been craving Americn food so badly by this time in the trip and we had never been so excited to eat McDonalds.


Now, however is the time to tell you about the most intense part of the entire trip - The Dalí Theatre and Museum. OMG, I was blown away. There is no way I could completely describe what I was feeling as I walked though the theater museum. What Dali created with this old-world museum was beyond the imagination. If I had one day on earth left to live, I would fly to Figueras, Spain and spend that day inside the Dali Museum. He created everything - sculpture, needlepoint, paintings, collages, lithographs, sketches, architecture, furniture, multi-media and whatever else he could turn into art. Dali maintained a close relationship with Sigmund Freud and many of his works were expressions of his sub-conscious and all his works are fantasy dreamscape images. In one room Dali painted his own fantastic version of Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel ceiling. The museum was a 17th century Spanish theater that Dali transferred into his own magnificent 4 story castle of art. The incredible detail of his paintings could not possibly be recreated in prints - when you look up close, you are able to see minutia of detail and layers of paint so subtle and small that go completely unseen in prints or in a book.

Remember how I said Van Gough was the greatest painter ever - well that was before I had been blown to smithereens seeing Dali's works live in person... in this marvelous theater. There was a painting that Dali made which sort of mocked Van Gough's sharp brush stroke style - and he did it with such ease that it was almost a joke. There was nothing he couldn't or didn't do - he was the most prolific artist and the ultimate artist in every sense of the word. I've never been so moved by art in my entire life. I spent so much time at each painting because there was so much to be read from just one viewing - so much depth and mystery. We spent close to 5 hours inside the Theater Museum and could have stayed even longer. If there was only one recommendation I would give to another human being for their bucket list - it would be to visit this museum.


View from inside the Dali Theater

photo by Cem Usakligil


We said goodbye to Marc and Alan and now I've broken off from all my original boys and now traveling with Rip and Wex. Alan was my inspiration for this entire trip and was the one who really designed the blueprint for the entire trip. Wish he and Mark (and Danny) would have made the journey to see Roger Waters.

Tuesday, July 17, 1990

Even though I love traveling and everywhere I go is something new, I'm beginning to get home sick for America. I'm dying for ketchup (crazy that they don't have ketchup packets here), I really want ice with my coke (ice is a foreign luxury here), and a sandwhich with substance (shrimp po-boy anyone?), my mom's home cooking, and all-you-can-eat restaurants.

However, when we arrived in Bordeaux for the Palace of Versailles, the thoughts of McDonalds quickly disappeared in favor of the finest wines in the world. We toured the magnificent Palace and were absolutely awestruck with it's over-the-top detail, magnificent halls, and of course, the most stunning gardens the world has ever seen. It was hard to put into words the beauty of this place. It's also impossible to fathom the staggering wealth. It was the former home of King Louie the XIV, the wealthiest king who ever lived. His palace was so vast and impeccably adorned, I thought I had visited heaven on earth.
photo by John Rogers

I've never seen anything so incredible. He had thousands of servants, whose only position in life was to take care of a section of one of the multitude of gardens. The colors were brilliant and the landscaping and rchitecture exceeded anything ever before seen. The King had balls and operas and symphonies play in many areas of the gardens. All along the pathways were adorned by mini-ponds, fountains and marble sculptures.


The palace was built in a Forrest so the entire feeling of the palace is lush and verdant - as far as the eye can see.

Running of the Bulls in Spain

Wed July 11, 1990

Danny and I took a slight detour from Barcelona. We had to stop in Nice in order to switch trains, and we decided to catch a night train out of Nice to connect directly to Pamplona, Spain for the Running of the Bulls! So while in Nice, we used the afternoon to catch up on a few things. I needed to go to Council travel to change my flight ticket from NY to Miami so I could hang with Greg for a few days. Then we saw the Modern Art museum that we missed the first time in Nice. We finally hit the beach at 3pm and stayed till the sun went down. I must say, stopping in Nice was a wise decision. I forgot how beautiful the South of France really is. It's just like Beverly Hills on the beach! If I could I would travel along every inch of coastline on every continent - I truly love the ocean! It was a wonderful beach afternoon layover before our night train to Pamplona.

Friday July 13th, 1990

Well right now I am recovering from the craziest festival this side of Mardi Gras. Before I begin to go off on what happened during the last 24 ours, I have to tell you about how backwards and old-world Spain is. I could not get to a U.S. phone operator from any payphone and the operators at Hotls shut down at 9pm - never mind any of them that try to help - so all communication with the US is cut-off! I tried so hard all day long to get through to my mom for her birthday and I'm really upset that I could not speak to her. This place is absolute mayhem!

There are people everywhere passed out stone cold in and on the streets - everywhere! The festival of San Fermín in the city of Pamplona (Navarre, Spain), is a deeply rooted celebration held annually in July. It has become probably the most internationally renowned fiesta in Spain. Over 1,000,000 people come to watch this festival - and there is so much overflow from available hotel rooms that people literally sleep in the streets. We woke up at 6:30am from a park where we slept last night. We found a tiny patch of grass near a tree and huddled together to sleep. I used my sneakers as a pillow. My friend was not so lucky and his sneakers were stolen during the night.



Every Spaniard wore the same exact thing - all white with a red scarf. Everybody was completely drunk - even the 12 year olds! I saw the funniest thing ever - two 14 yr olds lying face down on the pavement and all of a sudden, one gets up, staggering of course, and vomits all over his buddies back. Poor guy. Millions of people flood the streets - just like Mardi Gras and they sing and dance traditional Spanis songs and chant in drunken revelry. There is something to be said about a town where you can watch an 80 yr old woman dance in a festive trance at 4am! It's hard to believe the festival of San Fermin lasts 24 hours a day all week long! Nobody sleeps, and if they do, it's because they drank till they dropped. We wandered into one of the many squares and then a parade marched right into us. Most of them beat drums and and the intensity and volume could shatter windows - and this was at 3am! Nobody could possibly sleep - who wants to? Every has their own private bottle of Spanish wine, it's celebratory madness!



The purpose of this event was in origin to transport the bulls from the off-site corrals where they had spent the night, to the bullring where they would be killed in the evening. Youngsters would jump among them to show off their bravado. Spanish lore says the true origin began in North-eastern Spain during the early 14th century. While transporting cattle in order to sell at the market, men would attempt to speed the process by hurrying their cattle using tactics of fear and excitement. After years of this practice, the transportation and hurrying began to turn into a competition, as young adults would attempt to race in front of the bulls and make it safely to their pens without being overtaken. When the popularity of this practice increased and was noticed more and more by the expanding population of Spanish cities, a tradition was created and stands to this day.


photo by AP



Well, now I must tell you about the scorching hell it was to get here. We planned to take a 24 hour train from Venice, bu tthe train systems in Spain are so unreliable, inefficient and slow that it took us 2 days of slow, stop & go, swelteringly hot, smelly, rickety, uncomfortable, sauna trains. Luckily we met some Tulane friends and downed a few bottles of Spanish wine half-way to Pamplona. Now when I think of Spanish towns, I imagine them lost in time and trapped in the 17th century. They have almost no modern technology or conveniences and boy was it hot here. But when the we finally got to Pamplona we were thrilled beyond belief. Our entire trip was planned around the "Running of the Bulls." All the travel across Europe was designed so that we could run with the bulls around this date - and wow, was it worth it!


photo by AP


When we woke up from the park after another crazy night of celebration, we walked to the main street where the bulls ran and then into the Arena for a real Matador Bull fight! The main run was only 1/4 of a mile down a very narrow street closed off to outside "jumpers". The length of the run is 826 metres (903 yards). It goes through four streets of the old part of the city (Santo Domingo, Town Hall Square, Mercaderes and Estafeta) and a section called Telefónica before entering into the bullring. Spaniards run in front of the bulls while they charge from behind, bucking Spaniards clear into the air. They do this show off their bravado. It's completely insane. Some would get trampled, some would get gored. The narrow street funnels into the main Bullfighting stadium

photo by AP



photo by AP


The whole ceremony is very brief, which is not what I expected, but the tradition is fasinating. But the actual Running of the Bulls ceremony was dwarfed by what I witnessed later that afternoon. I witnessed the sickest sport in the world - "The BULLFIGHT"!!! It was a grand ceremony, and the last day of the festival and the President of Spain and the Spanish Aristocracy was watching from the royal box. All the matadors were decked out in their finest costumes.


photo by Rafa Rivas, Getty Images

A bull is then released into the arena. The sheer size of the bull is shocking to see. The horns were long and sharp. The actual game is so cruel and depressing and moved me considerably. I could not believe what I was witnessing. The matadors taunt the bull, while knights on horseback (wearing a steel protective shield), stab a massive jousting dagger straight down into the shoulder blades of the bull. This initial plunge into the bull tears the muscle and slows the bull down enough so the grand matador can taunt it. His taunting is the is the focus of the show/exhibition. Finally when the matador has completely humiliated the bull and it's strength is completely exhausted, the matador raises the killing sword and drives the sword directly into the animals brain. Then two more matadors come running out to make sure the bull is dead by driving two additional daggers though his brain. The bull then kicks straight out and becomes completely stiff. About 2 gallons of blood begins to shoot out of the bulls mouth. Three great horses come to drag the bull out the arena while the matador receives roses and wild applause from the crowd. There are 6 bullfights in all, and all die the same humiliating and torturous death. It's so shocking, however while inside the coliseum, you are taken over by the grand sense of the awe of the sport.

photo by AP Photo/Victor R. Caivano



Here is a photo I captured during the part of the ceremony when they drag the dead bull away and clean the blood.




To see an excllent photographic play by play of the Festival Di San Fermin, see this amazing Boston Globe review.

Glorious Venice

Tuesday July 10, 1990

Venice is Awesome!!! It is so beautiful, so romantic, so charming, so everything. It was nothing like I imagined. As soon as you walk out of the train station - you hit water. The entire city is built on canals and waterways. There is not one car in the entire city. Water taxis take you where you want to go. Romantic Gondolas lazily stroll across the water with lovers and newlyweds.

HDR photo by Dominic Kamp

On the train towards Venice, Danny and I met a gorgeous girl. She was from, where else? LA, and was traveling alone (with like 4 bags of luggage)! She was back-packing the hard way, I have no idea how she got from place to place, but she later told me she's been flying all over Europe, charging hotels and basically paying for high-end service along the way (nice way to travel!) Anyway we hooked up and decided to tour Venice together. It was nice to have a female to share the romantic experiences here in Venice. We went to a Dali museum here, drank more wine at dinner, strolled through the Piazza San Marco... very nice.

HDR photo by Trey Ratcliff, Stuck In Customs

The next day we walked around the city and took more water taxis, the more romantic way to get around town. We went to the 100th anniversary of Man Ray, a modern artists who created many different styles of art, sculpture, painting and photography. Then we went to Walker Adams, an amazing black and white photographer who had great shots of Selma, Alabama, New Orleans, Coney Island Mississippi - all capturing great realism of the 1930's.


Photo by MorBCN

The architecture in Venice, especially the Basilica di San Marco was fantastic. Classic Renaissance mixed with Byzantine formed the most beautiful buildings - and again, everything is on the water, so amazing. Venice really exceeded my expectations - wow - what a surprise. It felt like a moment in time that had a dream-like quality to it. But now, it's off to Spain for the Running of the Bulls!