Sanssouci Park: Not A Welcoming Place

On my first excursion into the city of Potsdam, I decided to visit Sanssouci. The simplicity of this intention revealed the depth of my ignorance. I knew the name ‘Sans Souci’ (French for ‘carefree’, or as the Australians would say, ‘no worries mate’) as the title of the summer palace of Frederick the Great. I had a vague idea that the palace was in a large park and that the park contained other buildings and structures. But, I reasoned, how complicated could it be? No doubt I would arrive at the palace and then tourist friendly signposts would point me in the direction of anything else I was inclined to see.

I consulted the excellent online trip planner for public transportation in Berlin and Potsdam and grabbed a bus. It dropped me at the stop called Sanssouci. Which looked like it was in the middle of pretty much nowhere.

The only thing I saw that remotely resembled an entrance to some sort of public building was a long ramp/stairway up a steep grade. They were no signs indicating where the ramp led. I climbed up it anyway and came to a pillared terrace.

I found I was looking out over a park (through which roadways now go) towards a fountain, and way beyond that, some ruins.

I remembered reading that one of the many structures within the enormous Sanssouci Park is the ‘Roman Baths’; picturesque ‘Roman’ ruins which had actually been constructed in the late 19th century. This was the fashion of the time. Canada’s own William Lyon McKenzie King did it at his country estate in Quebec.

I had received my first nudge about architecture that is not what it appears to be.

I figured I must be at the rear of Sanssouci palace. The flat concrete terrace backed onto a low yellow building.

I saw a sign pointing me to “Tickets”. So I headed over there.

I got distracted along the way by various views. There was a big windmill with a sign reading “Historic Windmill”.

I later discovered that the claim to historicity was, to put it kindly, shaky. However, that day I was happily ignorant of the facts, so I just admired it and wondered that the Kings of Prussia hadn’t torn it down as a blot on their carefully manufactured landscape.

According to legend, Frederick the Great had tried. However, the independently minded miller of that day had challenged his right to do so, saying that the matter would have to be referred to the courts. Frederick bowed to the law. One could therefore argue that the claim to be historical does not refer to the wood and nails of the building, but to this admission by an autocratic monarch that he was not above the law.

I wandered around the corner to look at the front of Sanssouci Palace.

On the one hand, the long low design does suggest an informality lacking in most palaces. On the other hand, the ornate decoration doesn’t exactly suggest that visitors are welcome to take their shoes off and put their feet up on the couch.

Still, royalty’s ways are not the ways of us common folk. Allowances must be made.

The terraced vineyard gardens have been compared to Versailles.

I have to say the comparison is a little ridiculous. Where are the magnificent fountains, for example?

To the extent there are any fountains at Sanssouci, they are concrete basins with a big spout in the centre.

Admittedly, the gardens are unlikely to be at their best in winter. But those regimented rows of frames awaiting vines are each separated by an enclosure of exactly the same size – with iron bars. What’s that about?

If I were planning gardens for a palace in a country that experiences winter, I would try to plant some sort of vegetation that would be attractive when the flowers are dead and vines are dormant. I have seen gardens like that in England.

I found the effect to be regimented and unwelcoming.

Much like the ticket office.

There, I was told that you can only enter Sanssouci with a group tour. The next tour was in fifteen minutes, but it was in German. I’d have to wait more than an hour for an English tour. I responded with a hearty ‘nein, danke’.

Let it be noted that the website for Sanssouci palace says only that “When purchasing online tickets … a fixed admission time for Sanssouci Palace will be booked as well.” It doesn’t say you have to go with a guided tour.

So no glimpse of the interior of Sanssouci for me. Ironic really. “No worries” indeed.

I departed the way I had come, passing other parts of the palace as I went. I think, although I am by no means sure, that this is the Picture Gallery.

Because – no signs.

I also got a nice view of the Court of Honour, from below.

I got a closer look at the fountain and the allee leading to the Roman ruins, which I had seen from the courtyard above.

I passed all kinds of bits and pieces of Sanssouci Park as I walked back towards what is labelled on maps as the “Historic Centre” of Potsdam.

This sort of ceremonial gateway to what looks like the ruins of an outdoor theatre is inscribed with the name of Frederick William IV, which would date it to about a hundred years after Frederick the Great, in the mid-1800s.

There was also what looked like an Egyptian obelisk at one of the subsidiary entrances to the park.

It was under some kind of construction wrapping, but I could make out Egyptian hieroglyphics.

“Is this authentic?” I asked myself.

Well, as I eventually found with all of ‘historic’ Potsdam, it depends on your definition of ‘authentic’.

It is not an authentic Egyptian obelisk. The hieroglyphics are nonsense. But it is the original monument put on that site by order of Frederick the Great in 1747. So in that respect it is more genuine than the “Historic Windmill”.

I saw what I took to be the Freidenskirche in the distance.

I visited it on another day. The exterior had some interesting touches, like an Italian style campanile.

A lovely beamed ceiling was on display in one of the covered walkways surrounding the church.

Unfortunately, I found it even more inaccessible than Sanssouci.

At least there was an office at Sanssouci with an actual human being to tell you that you weren’t getting in.

There were no officials in evidence at the Friedenskirche. As usual, there were no signs, even in German.

What perplexed me even more than those things was that there was no obvious entry to the interior. The only reason I managed to see anything inside was because I saw two men unlocking a door and I boldly followed them, half expecting to find myself in a private office.

Instead, it seemed I had accidentally stumbled into what I took to be the actual church. It was quite lovely, with a wood beamed roof.

The men were at the front, talking and pointing. I snapped off a few photos and when they turned to leave a few moments after they had entered, I hurried out ahead of them.

I had read that the Friedenskirche contains the tombs of many of Prussia’s (and then Germany’s) rulers. There is a British connection. One of the Empresses buried there is Victoria, the eldest and best loved child of Queen Victoria. She was the mother of Kaiser Wilhelm II, he of World War I infamy.

If so, they were secreted away somewhere hidden from public view. I walked all around the building and to the end of the garden behind the church and saw nothing resembling a crpty or mausoleum..

Turning a corner, I found myself back at the bottom of the vineyard garden of the Sanssouci Palace.

I decided that since I was there, I would do the long walk through the park to the Neues Palais. It’s about 2 kms up and back. I detoured to get a glimpse of the Chinese Pavilion.

It was closed for the winter. Probably just as well. Maybe I would have needed a group tour there too.

The Neues Palais had an impressive exterior.

But I found its site to be barren and unwelcoming.

There was a big sign telling me it was open every day except Tuesday. I was there on a Thursday. Finally my luck has changed, I thought.

I followed the arrow, turned the corner and walked up the ramp, I was met with a padlocked barricade.

Perhaps there was an entrance behind the massive structure but I couldn’t be bothered making the trek to find out. Fool me once, shame on you and all that.

What did I take away from viewing the (exteriors of) the Sanssouci palace, the Neues Palace and their grounds/gardens? That the German artistic sensibility is very different from that of the Italians, the French or the British.

I did enjoy this barbarian hugging an electric lamp post though.