Dusseldorf, Germany - Better than you think.

 

 â€œDĂŒsseldorf? Why go there?” asked certain people when I told them of our plans for New Year’s Eve. “Surely there are better places to go than DĂŒsseldorf?”

   And that was the problem. DĂŒsseldorf seemed to have a bit of an image problem. I blame Auf Wiedersehen Pet, the hit 1980’s TV program. On screen DĂŒsseldorf was portrayed as a bleak industrial city, certainly not a top destination for a European city-break. So I decided to find out more.

   On the city’s official website, DĂŒsseldorf was described as having ‘
one of the world’s most elegant shopping metropolises’, and even better, I read, it’s Old Town had ‘more than 260 restaurants an inns
known as the longest bar in the world.

’

   I was sold immediately and it didn’t take long to convince Jodie either. And as an added bonus, Jodie invited her parents to come along too. The four of us would experience our first German New Year’s Eve together.

 

   DĂŒsseldorf is one of Germany’s richest cities, the country’s advertising and fashion capital (Claudia Schiffer was discovered in a Dusseldorf) but not only that, it’s the top telecommunications hub. Furthermore, helping to pave the streets with even more gold are the Japanese. Since the 1960’s, Japan and Germany have been forging strong links with one another.

Many Japanese banks and corporations have based their headquarters in the city, accounting for the largest Japanese population of any European city. And the Hotel Nikko, our place of stay, was in the centre of this Japanese District.

 

   DĂŒsseldorf was first mentioned in 1135, but it wasn’t until 1288 that it was granted city rights. The eighteenth century saw some impressive growth but bad news was just around the corner in the form of the Napoleonic wars. Suddenly the city was in decline. But fortune was smiling down on the residents of DĂŒsseldorf. The Industrial Revolution eventually kick-started the local economy, and saw the city’s population increase to 100,000 by 1882 and double again only a decade later. Then came the First and Second World Wars. The almost continuous bombing during the latter reduced the city to near rubble. DĂŒsseldorf ended up in a massive nosedive of depression. Incredibly, regeneration kicked in as soon as the war ended. The frenetic pace of development made DĂŒsseldorf the city it is today.

   The Hotel Nikko was located just a short walk away from the Königsallee, the main shopping district.

Expensive shops filled both sides of a long tree-planted boulevard, bisected by a picturesque canal.

   “Look,” I said, pointing into the water. “A fish!” And it was a big one too. We headed down to the water’s edge to see it more closely. The cleanliness of the water surprised us. It was possible to see right to the bottom. In the UK, a fish would’ve had to contend with plastic bottles, crisp packets and lots more besides.

 

   Completed in 1804, the boulevard was originally named Kastanienallee or Chestnut Avenue, but then something unfortunate occurred. One day in 1848, just as King Friedrich Wilhelm IV was traversing the thoroughfare, someone decided to lob a dollop of horse manure at him.

Understandably there was a bit of a commotion about this, and so, as a gesture of goodwill, the boulevard was renamed Königsallee, or King’s Avenue, and everyone seemed happy. We crossed the bridge, heading for the Altstadt or Old Town.

   Our first stop was the main square, Burgplatz, located adjacent to the River Rhine. Dominating one side of the square was the Schlossturm Tower, the only remaining section of a great castle that burned down in 1872. Nowadays, it hosts a museum dedicated to a thousand years of maritime history.

 

   Just behind the tower was the St Lambert’s Church, famous for its twisted spire.

Built in 1395, a fire destroyed the original spire in 1815 so a rebuild was ordered. But soon after completion the wood began to warp creating the famous twist.

   Towards the corner of Burgplatz was the RadchlĂ€ger or Cartwheel Fountain. Dating from 1954, it depicts two boys engaged in a spot of cart-wheeling. At the time, this was a popular pastime for the young of DĂŒsseldorf. A good way of earning money from passing tourists.

   Just along from it was a quite grisly-looking monument, containing, amongst other things, knights riding upon skeletal horses. Later we found out it was a memorial portraying the Battle of Worringen, one of the biggest battles fought in Europe during the Middle Ages.

   We decided to take a stroll along the Rhine Promenade.

Up until 1995, the people of DĂŒsseldorf would’ve found it hard to reach the River Rhine. The problem was the main road running along the river used by over 50,000 vehicles a day acted as an effective barrier between the centre of town and the river. Eventually, in an amazing engineering feat, and at a cost of 570 million Deutschmarks, the road was placed in a tunnel, with the ground above covered up. And this was where they built the promenade.

  

In the distance we couldn’t miss the majestic Rheinturn, or Rhine Tower. Built in 1982, this 240m high structure is used primarily as a telecommunication tower. But as a special feature, it boasts a revolving restaurant near the top. It also holds a place in the record books. Incorporated into its vertical length are a series of portholes, which at certain intervals flash combinations of red or yellow.

What we were looking at was the world’s biggest digital clock.

   Arriving at the base of the tower, we were not surprised to find it closed. But it would be open later than night. “Bloody Hell!” cried Roy, reading a notice placed on the entrance. “It says here that a six-course meal will cost a hundred quid per person tonight!”

   Just further along from the tower was the rather odd looking skyscraper called the Stadttor, or DĂŒsseldorf Gate. The seat of the Federal Government, the glass-covered building was finished in 1997 and looked rather mundane. It even looked unfinished, with construction work seemingly going on inside. But we were wrong: it was complete, and furthermore, to those in the know, the Stadttor was a marvel of modern architecture, even winning prizes for its pioneering designs and features.

 

   “Look at those pretty buildings,” said Jodie, pointing towards the Media Harbour. This area of DĂŒsseldorf has gone though massive regeneration. Gone were the warehouses and silos of the former harbour and in their place stood buildings designed by world-renowned architects. Jodie was pointing to a set of buildings designed by the Canadian-born architect, Frank Gehry. With their modern-looking wavy design, they certainly captured the imagination. The silver one caught my interest most. With sunlight glinting of its rolling metal surfaces, it looked like something out of a science-fiction film.

   The other side of the harbour was no slouch when it came to architectural gems either.

For instance the Colorium, with its protruding red roof and coloured glass exterior, and the Roggendorf-Haus, with its crazy plastic figures scaling the exterior, made the harbour one of the highlights of DĂŒsseldorf for us.

 

   After a quick cup of coffee, we were off again down the Rhine Promenade. A few side streets later, we came to a unique statue on Dusseldorf. The MariensĂ€ule, or Statue of Our Lady, is oddly, the city’s only surviving religious monument. Constructed in 1854, it stands proud in a pretty part of town.

   A few minutes later, we were back in the shopping district, the Königsallee, walking past an open-air ice-rink, complete with jazz band. Up ahead was the mighty Kaufhof Department Store. Built in 1909 it was a good example of the Art Nouveau style still prevalent in the city.

   But we were heading for an even more interesting building. But to be honest, the Wilhelm-Marx House didn’t look particularly inspiring when we finally reached it. Its red-brick exterior and rather plain design belittled its importance. At the time of its construction (1922-1924) it was Germany’s tallest skyscraper. At a measly thirteen floors though, it is now easily eclipsed by the more recent editions to the DĂŒsseldorf skyline.

 

   Back once more in the Altstadt, we wandered down a small street to find the memorial to Schneider Wibbel. According to folklore, Mr Wibbel had been a dressmaker who, rather foolishly, took it upon himself to insult the great Napoleon Bonaparte. Not surprisingly, retribution was sought, and poor Wibbel was sentenced to life imprisonment.

But the dressmaker was a clever chap, and so instead of tootling off to jail himself, he sent his apprentice, who eventually perished in his cell. This left Wibbel to carry on his new life unhindered

   His monument was a clock perched up high on a wall. And beneath the clock were some shutters, which if the time was right, would open to reveal a mechanical figure playing a glockenspiel. But we arrived at precisely the wrong time, and so we were forced to move on.

 

   The Rathaus or Town Hall is a striking feature of Marktplatz. A smaller square than the nearby Burgplatz, scores of people were wandering around, either browsing the shops or sitting in the bars and cafes dotted around. Originally built in the 16th century, the Rathaus was critically damaged by bombing during World War II. Thankfully in the late 1950’s a rebuild was commissioned, allowing the Town Hall to regain much of its former glory.

    The square also contained DĂŒsseldorf’s oldest statue. Dating from 1711 it depicts Count Jan Wellem on horseback. Wellem was responsible for some major enlargement of the city during the late seventeenth and early eighteenth century. With the major sights of Dusseldorf done, we headed back to the hotel to get ready for the evening’s festivities. 

   One of the things that had attracted me to DĂŒsseldorf for New Year’s Eve was it had been described as being a bit more laid back than the UK. Standing shoulder to shoulder in a packed bar, with DJ’s pumping terrible music was not my idea of fun anymore. New Year’s Eve in Dusseldorf was meant to be a friendly affair, often with whole families venturing out to see the New Year in.

This simply wouldn’t happen back in the UK. Going out on New Year’s Eve in an average British city would mean dealing with yobs and vomit.

 

   By early evening we were back in the Altstadt, and though the town was alive and kicking, it certainly wasn’t overkill. Bars were not packed to capacity, merely pleasantly full. No gangs of young adults were wandering around shouting and generally causing a nuisance. It was better than all that. But we did have one problem. Jodie was feeling very ill. Her flu had been getting worse for a few days now, and by 10pm it was clear she wouldn’t be able to last the night. Reluctantly, I finished my last drop of Alt beer and we headed back to the hotel.

   â€œWhy don’t you two nip out for a quick drink?” suggested Barbara, Jodie’s mum.

We were all milling about in one room staring out of the window as various fireworks started to flash in the night sky. Roy and I were looking out of the window expectantly. “Just make sure you’re back here before twelve.”

   Next to me, Jodie nodded. Since returning to the hotel, she’d not looked good. So in an act of chivalry, Roy and I decided it would be best if we left mother and daughter alone for a while. With heavy-hearts and full wallets, we left the room in search of a nearby bar.

   We were in luck; a brightly-lit inn just over the road from the hotel looked particularly inviting. Within minutes of entering, two things quickly struck me though. The first was the amount of men in the place. And secondly, the pink straw that came with my drink was an indicator of something slightly amiss. “Roy,” I said. “I reckon this is a gay bar.”

   Jodie’s father had a quick scan around and shook his head.

“Nah. There’s a couple of women over there. And there’s one too.”

   I shrugged. It didn’t matter to me either way. The place seemed nice, and more importantly, the beer was half the nine Euro price tag the hotel had been charging us. Just then Roy tapped me on the shoulder. “I think you were right. Look.” I turned around in time to see two young men at the end of the bar getting very friendly. And there weren’t the only ones.

   I smiled, stirring my pint with my pink stirrer. “Everyone probably thinks I’m your toy boy! Ooh you bitch!”

   Neither of us cared though. In fact, we got another drink before heading back to the hotel. We arrived back with the girls just in time. As cascades of fireworks bloomed in the sky outside our window, we watched a clock chiming on the German TV station we had tuned into.

And then 2007 arrived and even Jodie looked relatively chipper.

   The next afternoon, flying back to the UK, I considered our city break. Even though Jodie had been under the weather, I’d still really enjoyed DĂŒsseldorf. As a destination, it certainly had a lot to offer.  Far more than we could’ve imagined.