If you are wondering about what this Mail Rail thing that I just mentioned might be, this article will be perfect for you.

For over 75 years, this dedicated 10-kilometer network of railway sat more than 20 meters below the surface, quietly shuttling millions of letters and parcels between sorting stations across London to keep the city connected.

But long before the Mail Rail arrived in London, postal pioneers explored alternative solutions to the problems that they had at the time. One of these peculiar Victorian innovations was the pneumatic tube. Back in 1863, the London Pneumatic Dispatch Company opened an experimental postal railway beneath Euston Station. This system was clever enough for the time and managed to propel 35 bags of mail more than 500 meters in less than a minute.

While this experiment might look like a success from our perspective now, there were high operating expenses, and it caught up with the company. By 1874, the line closed down permanently after just over a decade of service.

Overcoming Gridlock: The Birth of the Mail Rail

As London grew into a thriving global metropolis, its streets became a traffic nightmare. Horse-drawn carriages took over the roads together with early motor vehicles, and it caused massive gridlocks in some places. This resulted in severe postal delays. As a way to solve this, city planners began designing an automated underground electric railway dedicated entirely to the post. This last sentence sounded futuristic, but that was done in 1909!

Construction kicked off in 1914, but the timing was exceptionally unfortunate since the outbreak of the First World War halted the project. After things got back to normal, the necessary electrical operating equipment was put together, and the Mail Rail opened its doors on December 1927. Arriving just in time to help handle the chaotic Christmas rush!

How the Underground Postal System Worked

By now you might be wondering how the Mail Rail and the underground postal system worked. This innovative postal network stretched from Paddington in West London to Liverpool Street and the Eastern District office. It was designed as a marvel of efficiency and helped the post move between regional postal centers.

Riding the Mail Rail Today at the Postal Museum

As digital communication evolved and operational expenses climbed, the legendary postal service ceased operations in May 2003. And, for years, the silent postal tunnels under London were only seen by urban explorers. Luckily, with the launch of The British Postal Museum & Archive in 2004, things started changing. By 2017, there was an expansion, and the museum changed its name to The Postal Museum. There, they reopened a stretch of track in London’s Mail Rail.

As I mentioned before, the compact trains looked like something out of an amusement park, and if that sounded interesting to you, you will love to learn that you can ride those trains today. This was the reason I went to the Postal Museum in April 2026.

Even though the Postal Museum is quite fascinating, the main experience there is the subterranean ride in a modified passenger-friendly train that runs through the original tracks under the Mount Pleasant sorting office, once one of the largest postal sorting facilities in the world.

I’m not a small person, so sitting in the train carriages felt like I was back in my childhood. The carriages are small, a little less than one meter wide, and have a curved transparent plastic top that sits just above your head. Based on the fact that I was the only adult there without kids, this feels more like a kid’s adventure than anything else. But I can easily say that I loved every minute of it.

As you travel through the small tunnels past historic sandbags and stalactites, you are guided by the recorded commentary of Ray Middlesworth; he will share the story behind the Mail Rail. He worked as an engineer and spent over three decades working in the Mail Rail while it was still active. After that, he carefully maintained the tunnels after closure, and his voice brings the old platforms back to life!

The ride feels like a charming ghost train ride, and you will pass by a small train graveyard where old carriages rest in the dark tunnels. And there is even a brief but dramatic experience where you will see how the Second World War blackouts felt when the power failed deep under London. Based on my face in the pictures here, I loved every minute of this trip on the Mail Rail.

Exploring London’s Forgotten Subterranean Railway

The postal experience continues across two modern buildings packed with history. And I think you can browse the highlights in 45 minutes or spend a full afternoon diving into the exhibits.

The exhibits tells a fascinating story on the evolution of communication. The postal system was originally founded by King Henry VIII as a strictly private courier service for the monarchy. And I learned that every English town was required to keep three fresh horses ready at all times to sprint royal news across the kingdom. It wasn’t until the 17th century, under King Charles I, that the network opened to the public.

Since my main focus on the Postal Museum was the Rail Mail, I browsed through the highlights, but I could see myself exploring the exhibits with more patience. And I’m pretty sure I will do this soon since I want to ride the Mail Rail again.

When you leave the museum, it is impossible not to feel a wave of nostalgia for the beautiful, fading art of handwritten letters. And the unexpected futurism of an electric driverless train under the city. If you are looking for a unique London adventure, swap the standard tourist sights for the unforgettable rumble of the Mail Rail.

Inside The Postal Museum and the Mail Rail: London’s Best Hidden Subterranean Adventure

15-20 Phoenix Place
London—WC1X 0DA

www.postalmuseum.org

The post London’s Secret Subterranean World: The Ultimate Guide to the Mail Rail and The Postal Museum appeared first on FRAME TRAVEL ROAM CAPTURE.

We all know that the Berlin Wall fell on November 9, 1989. But, while the structural demolition took almost 5 years, it was on that November night that the passage between East and West Berlin was opened to all citizens.

I was still too young to know, but it seems like even the world’s best political observers were not aware of what would happen. Some of them even predicted that Germany would still be divided for a few more decades. I can imagine that, even on the afternoon of November 9, the border guards had no idea that Günter Schabowski would mistakenly declare on national television that travel liberalization was effective “immediately, without delay,” and that the Berlin Wall would be over.

A City Caught Between Two Worlds

Let me talk about this YouTube video I found over the weekend. It shows the summer of 1989 in Berlin, and it was shot with a consumer camcorder, which makes it even more nostalgic for me to watch.

The video begins in East Berlin, where you can see some East German Trabant cars on the road passing by places that no longer exist, like the Palace of the Republic. The footage takes us down the iconic Unter den Linden towards the Brandenburger Tor.

You can spot the old Prussian glory of times past in some buildings, but, overall, the atmosphere in the video is quiet and almost slow. A day in the life of the people who are surrounded by the Cold War geopolitics of the time. But they still have to run their errands, catch the bus, and go shopping.

The Reality of the Border

When the footage switches to the West Side, the focus of the video changes, and the concrete barrier becomes the main character. The Berlin Wall appears covered in layers of graffiti, some of them political, but most of them are just scribbles. The video even shows the wooden observation platforms that existed around Potsdamer Platz where people could peer over the desolate “death strip” on the other side. The same place that, in a couple of years, would be the location for Roger Water’s The Wall as a celebration of the fall of the Berlin Wall.

In the video, there is still menace in the East German border guards. Through the lens, we see East German soldiers standing in watchtowers, watching the tourists through binoculars. At one point, the camera even captures an East Berlin border patrol boat moving along the Spree River.

Remembering Those Who Dared to Cross

Perhaps the most heartbreaking moment of this random walk occurs right along the border fence near the Reichstag building and the northern bend of the Brandenburg Gate. This is the place where the camera pans across the white crosses, called Weiße Kreuze in German. This is a sobering memorial erected on the West Berlin side to honor those who lost their lives attempting to flee to freedom. And you can still spot it today.

Among the names on these markers is Chris Gueffroy, who was shot and killed in February 1989 while trying to cross the canal between Neukölln and Treptow. His name is left to history as the last person to be shot and killed by border guards while attempting an escape. Just a month later, in March 1989, Winfried Freudenberg would become the final person to die in a crossing attempt when a makeshift gas balloon he rigged up crashed in West Berlin.

Watching this footage decades later provides a surreal perspective on the Berlin Wall in 1989. Today, Berlin is a wholly different place that has evolved into one of the most vibrant, structurally unified, and popular capitals in Europe. The rapid urban evolution has completely transformed the old border zones into popular commercial hubs and parks. Especially in areas like Potsdamer Platz and the strip of Friedrichshain close to the river.

If Chris Gueffroy, Winfried Freudenberg, or even the anonymous traveler who shot this video were to stand in those same spots near the Bundestag today, they would hardly recognize the open, reunited city before them.

Frozen in Time: A Walk Along the Berlin Wall in 1989

youtu.be/QCy2DqPt9Gk?si=E4k18Vf7p_imb_k4

The post The Calm Before the Storm: Walking the Berlin Wall in 1989 Just Months Before it Fell appeared first on FRAME TRAVEL ROAM CAPTURE.

The Fondaco dei Tedeschi was first constructed in 1228 next to the Rialto Bridge. After a catastrophic fire destroyed the original structure in 1505, the Venetian state quickly rebuilt it by 1508. Before it caught fire in 1505, the building was made up of smaller buildings inside that German merchants could use for storage and to stay. That’s where the name comes from.

The building’s purpose hasn’t changed much over time, even though the Fondaco dei Tedeschi has been damaged and then fixed up. From its construction in the 13th century until Napoleon’s arrival in 1806, it was continuously occupied by German merchants.

In its glory days, the exterior walls were adorned with brilliant frescoes. By 1925, the Italian postal service took ownership of the building, operating Venice’s main post office there for decades. It wasn’t until 2008 that the building was sold to private developers, eventually reopening as the luxury DFS department store.

Inside the Fondaco dei Tedeschi, it already feels like an experience. The central hall has a massive glass roof that floods the interior with natural daylight. You can navigate through the hallways and admire the historical architecture and modern fashion at the same time. If you have the funds, I can imagine that it would be easy to spend hours going through the specialty shops, fashion brands, wines, and pasta that they have there.

Yet, as beautiful as the building can be, the true crown of the entire complex sits right on top of the building.

The Ultimate Panoramic View of Venice

Constructed during a massive renovation between 2013 and 2016 by Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas, the rooftop observation deck offered a relatively new way to look at Venice.

The experience of seeing the city from the top of the Fondaco dei Tedeschi is unique and, at the same time, feels almost exclusive. Even though the terrace is open to the public, the venue has a system for booking ahead of time that keeps things from becoming over crowded.

You can either scan a QR code on the top floor during low season or book a slot ahead of time through their official website. And since it’s strictly controlled, you don’t have to fight or queue with crowds of people to get the picture you want.

Once you step onto the wooden deck, Venice unfolds before you in every direction. It’s a dramatic, bird’s-eye perspective above the Grand Canal with the rooftops stretching towards the horizon. You can see the distant spires of St. Mark’s Basilica and the crowds on the Rialto Bridge below. Of course, there are helpful plaques installed along the railing that point out the landmarks you are looking at.

The only downside of the entire experience is that it only lasts 15 minutes. When your time comes, the next wave of visitors comes, and I was ushered back to the shopping part of the building. During the days that I spent there, I believe that some of my favorite pictures were taken during those 15 minutes!

A Bitter Update: Remembering the Best Panoramic View of Venice

Through the years that I have been writing here, I can see how travel landscapes change, but some losses hit harder than others. As of May 1, 2025, the Fondaco dei Tedeschi and its famous rooftop terrace have officially closed their doors to the public. The closure appears to be permanent, and I couldn’t find any information on what will happen to the place in the near future..

For those planning upcoming trips to Italy, this means the wonderful, free booking system is gone, and the wooden deck looking over the Grand Canal is completely inaccessible. Looking back at my photos from 2024, I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to stand on that roof but deeply saddened that future travelers won’t get to experience it.

Venice will always be beautiful, but the loss of this specific vantage point leaves a massive void for future travelers. I will miss this breathtaking panoramic view of Venice forever. If any news emerges about a reopening or a new concept for the building, I will keep you updated right here. Until then, we must say a final goodbye to one of the city’s greatest modern viewpoints. At least I got the pictures as proof of how great it all was.

Chasing the Perfect Panoramic View of Venice: The Legacy of the Fondaco dei Tedeschi Terrace

San Marco, 5541, 30124
Venezia, Italy

www.dfs.com/en/venice

The post Where to Find the Ultimate Panoramic View of Venice (and the One We Lost) appeared first on FRAME TRAVEL ROAM CAPTURE.

This one-of-a-kind public park covers 18 hectares and is built on a former rail yard. It gives visitors a fascinating look at what happens when people design something and then leave it up to nature.

For travelers, urban explorers, and photography enthusiasts, Natur-Park Südgelände provides an extraordinary space for discovery, relaxation, and accessible outdoor recreation.

And you will be able to see this below in the many pictures I took of the place in my visits since 2017. Since my office is close by, I’ve been going there once or twice a year for a while now. The park is always a great place to take pictures. This is why there are different lights and seasons in the pictures you’re going to see here.

Natur-Park Südgelände is where Berlin’s Industrial Past Meets Wild Urban Nature

The origins of the site date back to 1889, when the Tempelhof marshalling yard was built. It expanded steadily over the decades, and a dedicated locomotive depot, called Bahnbetriebswerk in German, was added in 1931. However, geopolitical shifts changed the site’s destiny. Mostly the changes in Germany after the end of the Second World War and the Berlin Wall.

Following the closure of the Anhalter Bahnhof in 1952, the western section of the yard was entirely abandoned since no trains would pass by the area anymore. This happened because the public transport in Berlin was split into two different managements. East Germany was in charge as Deutsche Reichsbahn, while the Allied Forces handled it as the Deutsche Bundesbahn. East German officers couldn’t or didn’t want to take care of the park because it was in West Germany, so they just left it there.

Nature began to aggressively take back the abandoned tracks and platforms after they were left alone for decades. While proposals emerged in the late 1970s to build a new freight station, enthusiastic community resistance successfully blocked the plans.

In 1995, Deutsche Bahn donated the land to the Berlin city government to compensate for environmental impacts elsewhere. Managed by the state-owned Grün Berlin group and funded with help from the Allianz Umweltstiftung, the site was officially opened as a public park in 1999 as a project of the Expo 2000.

The Ultimate Guide to Natur-Park Südgelände: Berlin’s Unique Green Space

Walking through Natur-Park Südgelände feels like stepping onto a post-apocalyptic movie set where the machinery of the industrial age has been frozen in time. And that is why I keep talking to people about visiting this special place.

The park is filled with artifacts from the steam locomotive era. You will encounter old water cranes, rusty light poles, switches, and two massive flying junctions, called Überwerfungsbauwerk in German, in the southwestern section.

Personally, the architectural highlights include the 1940 DRB Class 50 Steam Locomotive that sits permanently parked on the tracks, slowly being enveloped by trees. Close to it, you will be able to spot a water tower, a 50-meter-tall steel tower built in 1927 that rises high above the tree line. And, based on a conversation I had with one of the park caretakers, it nests some fantastic birds that I couldn’t spot from the ground.

You also have to visit the Locomotive Hall. This massive 4,000-square-meter historic hall is used today for experimental artists theater, dance, and performance events, including the renowned Berliner Festspiele. Next to it, you will find the Brückenmeisterei, the former bridge master’s office, which has been converted into a cozy café and exhibition space. A perfect stop in the middle of the park.

Exploring Natur-Park Südgelände: Trains, Art, and Biodiversity in Berlin

For almost 50 years, the region remained unaltered, allowing rare dry grasslands and a pristine urban forest to grow naturally. Something similar happened around the Berlin Wall, and I even wrote about the rabbits that used to be found on Chausseestraße between Mitte and Wedding. Many areas of the park are now formally designated as landscape and nature reserves.

The biodiversity here is staggering. Natur-Park Südgelände is home to over 300 species of ferns and flowering plants, 49 mushroom species, and 30 species of breeding birds. It is also an essential sanctuary for insects, hosting 57 spider species and 95 wild bee species—more than 60 of which are endangered.

To help visitors understand this fragile ecosystem, the park features an open-air exhibition titled “Bahnbrechende Natur.” Also, since the majority of the park’s trails are elevated, visitors don’t significantly alter the surrounding landscape.

It’s not just nature that the park celebrates; it’s also an outdoor art gallery. Steel artworks created by the Odius sculpture group are woven directly into the landscape as elevated footbridges, viewing platforms, and geometric treehouses.

Near the café, you will find the Giardino Segreto. This manicured, artificial garden features steel cubes, sharp-edged lawn beds, and contemporary sculptures that create a stunning visual contrast against the wild, untamed wilderness surrounding it.

Furthermore, a former retaining wall along the Tälchenweg path acts as a legal canvas for Berlin’s graffiti artists from 15:00, Monday through Saturday.

Plan Your Visit: Paths and Accessibility

Natur-Park Südgelände is highly inclusive, featuring barrier-free circular trails with accompanying audio information and sign-language videos. Starting in 2020, the outdoor exhibition has had tactile reliefs, Braille, and large print, which makes the whole experience effortless for blind and visually impaired visitors to enjoy.

There are two ways to explore Natur-Park Südgelände, and you need to learn about this before you end up getting on the wrong path like I did on my first visit to the park.

If you are short on time and want to focus more on the train aspect, you should take the Small Circular Path that is around 1 km long. This trail focuses primarily on the railway relics, including the steam locomotive and water tower.

If you feel like walking a little more because you want to see the local nature, you should take the Large Circular Path that is a bit less than 3 km long. This will take you deeper into the nature reserve, guiding you along a 600-meter elevated steel walkway through sunny clearings and a shaded robinia forest.

Essential Travel Tips:

• Opening Hours: The park opens daily at 9:00. Closing times vary by season (16:00 in winter; up to 21:00 from May to August).
• Some simple rules: To protect the delicate local wildlife, animals (including dogs) and bicycles are strictly prohibited inside the park. There are places to lock your bike easily at the entry.
• Amenities: Stop by Café Paresüd at the old bridge master’s office for a coffee. It is open on weekends and public holidays from April to October (11:00 to 18:00).
• How to get there: The main entrance is directly at the Priesterweg S-Bahn station (Lines S2, S25, and S26). And don’t forget to check the area since they have some unusual scars from the Battle of Berlin.

Natur-Park Südgelände: Discovering Berlin’s Abandoned Railway Turned Nature Reserve

Prellerweg 47-49
12157 Berlin

www.natur-park-suedgelaende.de/en

The post Exploring Natur-Park Südgelände: Berlin’s Unique Blend of Rail, Art, and Wilderness appeared first on FRAME TRAVEL ROAM CAPTURE.

Over the past few years, I have experimented with countless bags, mounts, and gadgets while training on daily rides. Also, short trips from Berlin to Dessau, Frankfurt Oder, and Cottbus, figuring out exactly what works when you’re far away from home.

Buying the right essential bikepacking gear will entirely change your experience on the bike, no matter how experienced you are with long-distance cycling or how nervous you are about your first overnighter. Some of the gear I tested over the years ended up being complete failures. While others became reliable travel partners for me on long-distance trips to places like Copenhagen and Oslo.

For smart bikepacking and a comfortable ride, this complete guide to my must-have bikepacking gear for 2026 shows you the ten most important things I never leave home without.

The Essential Bikepacking Gear That Saved My Trip from Berlin to Oslo

Route Werks Big Handlebar Bag

I previously preached about the Original Handlebar Bag, but after upgrading to the larger version late in 2025, I use it on every single ride. The easy on/off mounting system is incredibly slick, like it was on the older model.

If you travel with a proper camera like my vintage Canon F-1, the padded insert offers great protection against road vibrations. The real star, however, is the customizable, durable lid. It acts as the ultimate dashboard for my cockpit, keeping my navigation and tech protected yet completely accessible.

Restrap Bikepacking Bags

When I bought my Cinelli Zydeco gravel bike, I knew I needed luggage that could match its capability. Restrap is a UK-based company known for making handmade, rugged, and stylish bags that handle the elements beautifully.

I run their frame bag to house my heavy water bladder and repair tools, keeping the center of gravity low. For quick-access items like energy bars and sunscreen, their top tube bag is perfect. I also picked up their pedal straps and have been incredibly impressed by how secure they feel.

Thule Tour Rack & Ortlieb Dry-Pack

After backpacking to Copenhagen in 2024, I realized I absolutely hated the annoying side-to-side sway of traditional, large saddlebags on rough gravel roads. To fix this, I swapped to the Thule Tour Rack. It is easily one of the best upgrades I have ever made for long-distance bike rides.

To go with the rack, I picked up the Ortlieb Dry-Pack after plenty of research. This waterproof dry bag is brilliant for securing gear firmly to the rack. During the relentless rainy days on my way to Oslo, it kept my clothes bone-dry. The integrated daisy chains are a massive bonus, keeping the bag far more stable under a heavy load than I ever anticipated.

Topeak Versacage

Because my Cinelli Zydeco lacks native eyelets on the front fork for cargo cages, I had to get creative. After searching everywhere and nearly giving up, I found the Topeak Versacage.

This adaptable strap-on system allowed me to securely lash extra dry bags directly to my fork blades, significantly increasing my carrying capacity. It even became a great conversation starter with other cyclists I met along the trail since most of them had never seen this accessory before.

Wahoo ELEMNT BOLT

Forget relying on your smartphone and Google Maps for multi-day routes; poor battery life and dropped signals will quickly leave you stranded. My less-than-stellar experiences with phone navigation led me straight to the Wahoo ELEMNT BOLT.

The clean user interface, seamless Strava syncing, and robust waterproof build make it a winner. Plus, the live tracking feature gave my loved ones peace of mind back home while I was riding solo.

5.11 Chest Pack

Instead of wearing a sweaty backpack or a restrictive fanny pack, I opted for the 5.11 Chest Pack on my last tour. It was an excellent decision. The harness system distributes weight evenly across your torso, making it incredibly comfortable for 8+ hour days in the saddle.

It keeps my phone, wallet, and passport right at my fingertips.

Lomography LC-A+ Analog Camera

I love the rich look and tactile feel of film photography, so my Lomography LC-A+ always makes the cut. This compact, reliable analog camera is a favorite among film enthusiasts for its vibrant, high-contrast images and classic vignettes.

It is small enough to slip into my chest pack or handlebar bag without a second thought. And keep an eye out for my upcoming post featuring the actual film pictures from the trip from Copenhagen to Oslo!

Tribit StormBox Bluetooth Speaker

Sharing the lid of my Route Werks bag is this compact powerhouse of a speaker. The Tribit StormBox delivers impressive sound quality and boasts an 8+ hour battery life to get through long, lonely gravel climbs.

It kept me exceptional company on the road, blasting a specially curated trip playlist that you can check out over on my Spotify.

Rapha Explore Glasses

The massive lenses shield your eyes from debris, low-hanging branches, and bugs, while the hydrophobic coating prevents rain droplets from pooling and stops them from fogging up when you sweat. They are well worth the investment.

A massive thank you to Camila for gifting me these! The Rapha Explore Glasses are a massive upgrade over cheaper cycling sunglasses.

Specialized MIPS Helmet & Anker Power Bank

Safety and power are non-negotiable. Having previously survived a bike collision in Berlin, I never ride without my bright yellow Specialized helmet. The integrated MIPS (Multi-directional Impact Protection System) technology offers superior brain protection during angled impacts, and the high-visibility color ensures drivers see me from a distance.

To keep all this tech running, I carry an Anker 20,000 mAh power bank. It effortlessly recharges my phone, camera, and bike computer multiple times over, ensuring I never lose navigation or communication capabilities in remote areas.

The right essential bikepacking gear turns a potentially challenging ride into a smooth, memorable adventure. Whenever you make your final packing list, make sure it fits your bike’s layout and the conditions of the route. And happy riding!

Ultimate Packing List: Essential Bikepacking Gear for Your Next Gravel Adventure

The post 10 Pieces of Essential Bikepacking Gear I Won’t Ride Without in 2026 appeared first on FRAME TRAVEL ROAM CAPTURE.

Long before the first brick was laid for the steel mill, the area around Eisenhüttenstadt belonged to Slavic tribes. They were called Sorbs, Obotrites, and Veleti, and they ruled Brandenburg and Mecklenburg-Vorpommern. Things started to change when the Ostsiedlung happened in the Middle Ages and German-speaking settlers, merchants, and knights went deep into these territories. This is how cities like Breslau and Danzig were founded. Both cities are now part of Poland and were renamed Wrocław and Gdańsk. 

Inevitably the expansion that defined this region for hundreds of years sowed the seeds of its destruction. The World Wars broke the map and rebuilt it in entirely different ways. After 1945, the German borders were moved to the west, and between 12 and 14 million Germans were expelled from lands that their families occupied for generations as the Oder-Neisse line became the new frontier of a Soviet-influenced Eastern Europe.

Eisenhüttenstadt is a City Born of Displacement

Now that I mentioned the historical background to Eisenhüttenstadt, it’s easier to understand how this city was born out of displacement and ideological division. It wasn’t an organic growth from a medieval village; Eisenhüttenstadt was a city for a new postwar reality and built from scratch as East Germany’s socialist utopia. When you explore the city, you can trace these invisible fault lines and find a place that feels like a physical manifestation of a five-year plan.

Established in 1949, the German Democratic Republic (GDR) needed to prove it could survive independently of the industrial West. By the 1950s, construction for the Eisenhüttenkombinat Ost (Ironworks Combine East) had started. The East German leadership understood that steel wasn’t enough to build a nation and that the new socialist man that they pictured needed a new socialist home as well. 

This is where architect Kurt Walter Leucht comes into play when he is commissioned to design an entire new city. In 1952, he was appointed Director of the Institute for Urban Development and Settlement, and his responsibilities also included Stalinallee in Berlin, now Karl Marx Allee. Eisenhüttenstadt was originally named Stalinstadt, and its urban design was based on the “16 Principles of Urban Planning.”

This wasn’t a simple residential project; it was a way to showcase the socialist future, intended to prove that an ideal society, free of its fascist past, could be engineered from the ground up. 

Beyond the Steel Mill: A Deep Dive into the Eisenhüttenstadt Murals and Planned Perfection

When I arrived in Eisenhüttenstadt, it felt like a trip into the past since the area around the station felt untouched for many years. But when you enter the city center along Lindenallee, you can truly feel like this city is more like a time capsule than anything else. If it weren’t so empty of people, it would feel like a socialist version of the city in the movie The Truman Show.

When you start walking around town and exploring its architecture, you can see that there is a strict order to the urban fabric of Eisenhüttenstadt. It goes from city to residential district to residential complex and, finally, house blocks. This city wasn’t just meant to house people; it was also meant to teach them.

When it comes to the architecture style of the buildings, I can say that I was expecting something more modern-looking. Maybe in the Bauhaus style, but I was wrong. The East German planners and designers rejected the “international style” of the time and considered Bauhaus to be dangerously capitalist. Instead, they decided to style the city in socialist classicism.

It is the nexus of 1950s American suburban planning and East German planning, both of which were idealized communities designed to support a specific lifestyle. The Socialist Classicism style is easily recognizable by the pastel-colored housing blocks with massive inner green spaces and beautiful arched passageways that are perfect for pictures. It almost gives the entire town a Mediterranean feel when you stroll around.

However, this socialist dream didn’t last long. Since the reunification of Germany after the fall of the Berlin Wall, the population of Eisenhüttenstadt has decreased by more than half. In 2024, the population of the city was less than 25,000 people. The steel mill that can be seen from almost everywhere in town still operates but employs a small fraction of the workforce of the past.

The Modern Political Climate

I visited Eisenhüttenstadt twice in 2024, and walking around town is a bit eerie. The urban scale of the city feels uncomfortably grand for the number of people living there. By inviting people and easing some regulations, the current administration attempted to find solutions, but I’m not sure if this will address their issue.

The transition from a state-controlled economy to capitalism hasn’t been seamless, and you can easily see the issues in the politics of the area. I saw so many AFD-supporting posters and graffiti on both visits that it made me feel uncomfortable to be in town. Especially as a South American immigrant with a long beard carrying too many cameras.

On my first visit, my friend and I were even stopped by an older German man that loved that we were in town taking pictures of the murals. He mentioned some of his favorite artworks and pointed us towards one of the murals we were looking for. So, you can keep that in mind as well.

Despite these political overtones, Eisenhüttenstadt remains an intriguing destination for art and history lovers. Unlike other locations I have visited in the past, it is not a site of visceral urban decay. It’s a preserved monument to a future that never reached its full potential.

Top 3 Eisenhüttenstadt Murals You Must See

Now that I mentioned the history of Eisenhüttenstadt, I can focus on the reason I went there in the first place. They are the reason the murals in Eisenhüttenstadt are so fascinating, so I wanted to start by sharing the location’s history.

Even though the Eisenhüttenstadt murals are a bright feature of the city today, its roots go back to a time when borders changed and people came from Slavic countries. They were part of the final layer of this ideological construction. When you pass by a mosaic of a cosmonaut or a happy family on the side of a building, you are not enjoying pure art. They were placed there to help mend the wounds caused by the border changes, wars, and uprootings I discussed earlier in this piece.

Eisenhüttenstadt is home to more than 120 statues and murals, and they are easy to spot all around town. They are the reason I went there twice in the same year. These things show us into the political heart of the German Democratic Republic. For someone from Brazil, seeing this political heart of the GDR is a surreal experience.

Here are the three most essential stops for your tour of Eisenhüttenstadt Murals. 

1. “Joint Work of the Socialist Countries” by Walter Womacka (1962)

This mural can be found on the facade of the former “Magnet” department store on Lindenallee. This 16-by-10-meter mosaic is one of the most famous works of art in the city.

Walter Womacka was one of the GDR’s most renowned artists, and this work perfectly captures the spirit of international cooperation. I took pictures of his work before on the Staatsratsgebäude in Berlin.

2. “Makrokosmos & Mikrokosmos” by Otto Schützmeister (1969)

This is a double-sided mosaic wall that celebrates the scientific and technological optimism of the late 1960s. It represents the “Space Age” of the Eastern Bloc.

On one side, there is the Makrokosmos with two cosmonauts venturing into the vast expanse of space, reflecting the Soviet pride in the Space Race. On the other side, three scientists stand before symbols of atomic energy, illustrating the “promise” of nuclear power for a modern society. It’s gorgeous!

3. The Family Murals by Eduard Gerhardt Clauß (1959)

This one can be found in the Wohnkomplexe I area. And they offer a more intimate look at the socialist ideal. While the other works focus on industry and science, these focus on the “nuclear family” within the state.

It felt to me close in style to Löffelfamilie, which I spotted in Leipzig a few years ago. They both reflect a mid-century socialist optimism that doesn’t exist anymore on such a large scale.

Besides these three murals, there are several interesting places to visit in town. Including the Documentation Center for Everyday Culture of the GDR. This museum is a must-visit museum located in a former childcare center, decorated with leaded glass windows featuring children’s motifs.

Also, if you go to Eisenhüttenstadt during the week, you might be able to walk through the town hall, which has many beautiful mosaics.

Eisenhüttenstadt is still the best place to see and take pictures of the physical remains of an East German socialist utopia. Whether you see it as a time capsule of East Germany or a lesson in how to plan a city.

If you need more places to explore in Eisenhüttenstadt, this is an excellent resource.

The Open-Air Museum of the GDR: A Guide to Eisenhüttenstadt Murals and Stalinist Style

www.eisenhuettenstadt.de

The post A Guide to the Eisenhüttenstadt Murals and Socialist Architecture  appeared first on FRAME TRAVEL ROAM CAPTURE.

You may be skeptical like me or believe in aliens, but there is one thing we can all agree on: this strange landmark gives us a look into the mind of one of Sweden’s strangest businessmen. It’s a fascinating story that connects local history with folklore.

But, before I share this with you, I have to tell you how I ended up in this weird little memorial next to Ängelholm.

As I was organizing the phases and stops of my bike trip from Copenhagen to Oslo in the summer of 2025, I looked into whether there would be any noteworthy sites along the way. For this first day riding my bike, I spotted some interesting things next to the beach, but nothing felt like it was worth a change in route. Until I discovered the Ängelholm UFO Memorial.

I think I rode for 90 km or so when my GPS tracker told me that the UFO memorial was close by. I stepped into the forest and tried to spot it. After a few wrong paths and turns, I saw a clearing in the woods, and there it was: a concrete model of a flying saucer in the middle of nowhere. I was in the right place.

Gösta Carlsson and The Legend of the Pollen King

Now, let me try to tell you what I learned about the person behind the Ängelholm UFO Memorial. Gösta Carlsson (1918–2003) is remembered today as a successful businessman and founder of the herbal medicine brand Cernelle. But his journey to becoming the “Pollen King” is an origin story that we don’t hear much everyday.

It was May 1946 when Gösta Carlsson was walking home through the Kronoskogen forest when he spotted a glowing object near a clearing in the woods. This object was shaped like a disc and was resting on a keel with retractable legs, surrounded by a crew of beings dressed in tight-fitting flight suits. He couldn’t get close to them since they had a device to keep Gösta Carlsson at a distance.

After the encounter came to an end, the crew of the flying saucer managed to keep in touch with Gösta Carlsson. He maintained the story that, throughout the following years, he experienced recurring dreams where the crew communicated ideas to him. How did this work? I have no idea, but he attributed his later success in life to these moments.

Gosta Carlsson thought that the dreams and ideas that these visitors in the middle of the Kronoskogen forest gave him led to his work with bee pollen extract and even the funding of a local ice hockey team, the Rögle BK. And who am I to question this?

Exploring the Ängelholm UFO Memorial

Back in 1972, a few decades after the initial UFO sighting, Gösta Carlsson erected a monument to commemorate the event that was so important to him. The site was designed based on his sketches, and it’s quite an odd stop in the middle of the Swedish woods.

In the middle of it all, you will spot a flying saucer model built to a one-eighth scale in concrete. There is a fin on its rear and a periscope-like device on the top, and it sits on top of a concrete pedestal. Around it, on the forest floor, you will see the spots where Gösta Carlsson said that the landing gear was.

There are also historical plaques mounted on pillars at the edge of the monument, telling the story of how Gösta Carlsson witnessed the event, and that is it.

The Truth About the UFO Memorial

At first, when I read about the Ängelholm UFO Memorial, I thought that Gösta Carlsson had seen some lights in the sky and thought they were aliens or something. Which could be easy to justify since there was a lot of military activity in the area after the Second World War. But the encounter that he had in the woods feels more meaningful than that.

Nevertheless, even though the Ängelholm UFO Memorial is a historical heritage site in Sweden, there was never much evidence to support Gösta Carlsson’s claims.

Researchers, journalists, and even UFO experts have visited and investigated the area over the years. They never found any evidence of an alien craft, and the artifacts that Gösta Carlsson could have spotted in the woods were mundane.

Explore the Kronoskogen forest at your leisure if you happen to be in southern Sweden. You probably won’t meet any aliens, but you will find a cute piece of Swedish history that will always remind you of how deeply one man’s imagination can change the landscape.

The Ängelholm UFO Memorial: Everything You Need to Know Before You Go

262 53 Ängelholm, Sweden

The post Sweden’s Out-of-This-World Attraction: A Guide to the Ängelholm UFO Memorial appeared first on FRAME TRAVEL ROAM CAPTURE.

At the end of the summer of 2025, I took my bike to Copenhagen one more time. I had to head back there so I could finish a bike trip that I started the year before. Now it was time for the second part of the ride, from Copenhagen to Oslo by bike.

In so many ways, this felt like a different bike ride. I wasn’t as fearful of the road as before. I knew what my body could handle on long rides, and I was comfortable enough with myself, my bike, and my surroundings to try something slightly longer. And that is what I did.

But, before I talk about the bike ride, my experience, and everything else, I believe I have to go back a few years into the past. And share a bit of where this idea came from. Why I had to start cycling from Copenhagen and how I set my mind to arrive in Oslo by bike from Berlin.

Let me tell you how I started cycling from Berlin to Oslo.

Day 00: Copenhagen

I left Berlin on a Friday evening using Flixbus since they offered the most affordable way to arrive in Copenhagen with my gear, bags, and my bike. I arrived in Sudkreuz with everything, and a delay of almost an hour made me more nervous than I was expecting. But that was just a small hiccup.

The bus had to stop around Rostock so the police could check documents and passports inside, but there were no issues. A little later, I saw the sun rise on the ferry that crosses from Germany to Denmark, and it felt like a good starting point for the trip.

My first day on the road was relaxed. I knew I didn’t want to rush things, and that is why I decided to take a day off in Copenhagen. In the morning, I cycled all the way to the north of the city, around the area where I visited Copenhill before. On the way there, I passed by several cool-looking buildings that I know I will have to get back to see again. But the highlight was how empty the area is and the pictures I took there while killing time before my check-in.

My only night in town was spent at the Generator Copenhagen, and I chose it because of how central it is. Next to it, I had some fantastic cheeseburgers at the Gasoline Grill. I passed by this place on the first stage of the bike trip, but I saved it for the second visit. And I can easily say that, despite the long queue, the burgers and fries were fantastic. I’m definitely going back there.

The rest of the day was focused on seeing a friend who moved from Berlin to Copenhagen, and we caught up with some beers!

Day 01: from Copenhagen to Helsingør and from Helsingborg to Ängelholm

My first day cycling from Copenhagen to Oslo started early, and it was a long one. I had to organize my bags in the hostel, and it wasn’t as easy as I had in mind. Probably because it was the first time I was doing that, but… It would get easier.

I cycled all the way to the Copenhagen Town Hall since that is where I stopped my bike ride before. I took my pictures in front of it to mark the start of my adventure and onwards to Helsingør.

Getting out of Copenhagen felt surreal in so many ways. The route followed the sea on the right side, and it had gorgeous views. On the other side, the houses felt like mansions for fancy Danish people. It was great to start the first day cycling on a straight line with such a beautiful view.

I stopped in Helsingør so I could take the ferry to Helsingborg and start the Swedish side of this trip. The ferry was short, but I can easily say that I felt overwhelmed with emotion. I believe I had a small cry thinking about how far I had gone and what was ahead of me.

The coast between Helsingborg and Ängelholm was almost perfect for cycling. I stopped a few times to take pictures of some defensive structures on the coast that were put in place during the Second World War. In a few places, the wind was a bit more than I wanted, but it didn’t bother me much.

One of the highlights of the first day of cycling was the stop I made at the Ängelholm UFO memorial. This monument in the middle of the forest celebrates the moment when Swedish entrepreneur Gösta Carlsson encountered a UFO back in 1946. He considered that encounter to be the reason he was successful in his life and decided to erect the monument in 1972 with flying saucer and spaceship impressions on the floor. It was a weird place to stop, but I love stumbling upon places like this.

After 103 km on the road, split into two sections, I crossed Ängelholm and arrived at the Strandbyn—Destination Råbocka, where I would spend the night. When I booked this place, I knew that the Råbocka beach would be close by, and that is where I went to relax after so many kilometers. I just locked my bike and went to the water with my bike bibs and my sunglasses. What a fantastic way to end the day.

Day 02: Angelholm to Halmstadt

This was my first day fully cycling in Sweden, and I loved every minute of it. Most of the bike ride was going through seaside villages, nature reserves, and beaches. All of those in the famous Kattegattleden, which is Sweden’s first national cycle path. This made the entire route such an experience, and I would come back to Sweden again just to ride this cycle path.

Even the hills that I crossed around Båstad took a hold on me due to the beautiful surroundings. I think the only “bad” part of the day was the detour I took around Laholm to see the remains of an old castle and a historical power plant. Besides that, the day was remarkable, and the highlight was the last kilometers before my stay at the Stugcentralen Lägenhetshotell & Stugor.

I cycled through a nature reserve called Gullbrana och Tönnersa, and it was the first section where I had to pedal in gravel, which made everything more exciting. I even passed by the Påarps Gravfålt, a 2000-year-old gravesite that can be easily missed if you don’t know what the rocks between the road and the sea mean.

The Stugcentralen Lägenhetshotell & Stugor is next to the beach, and, of course, I cooled down from the bike ride in the sea. It was colder than the day before, but it was precisely what I needed.

Every time that I talk to Swedish people about food, they mention an unusual type of pizza. And they vouch for it like it’s the best type of pizza ever. So, my lunch in Halmstadt was a kebab pizza at the Costello Pizzeria. Surprisingly, this was fantastic, and I loved every bite of it.

I will have to eat more next time I’m in Sweden and see if it was just me being hungry from the bike ride or if it’s really that tasty.

Day 03: Halmstadt to Varberg

During this trip, the first thing I did in the morning was to check the weather forecast for the day. I had already seen that this section between Halmstadt and Varberg could have some rain, and it was clear that it would be the case since it drizzled on me while I was setting up my bags on the bike.

The gray skies made leaving Halmstad a bit boring. Especially because the first few kilometers were inland, but everything got better when the scenery changed with the sea to my left.

Halfway towards Varberg, my energy levels dropped a bit more than expected, and I decided to stop in a small village after Falkenberg for an ice cream and a short cycling break. I ended up getting an energy drink as well, and it helped me out perfectly.

While I was planning my routes, I always looked for something interesting to pass by and stop at. In Varberg, I had only one thing in my mind: I needed to see the Danuta Danielsson statue. The woman is known as “The Woman with the Handbag” because of a picture that Hans Runesson took of her hitting a Neo-Nazi with her purse in Växjö, Sweden, on April 13, 1985. And I was so happy to stop by the statue made by Susanna Arwin and see that there is a tree close by where people leave handbags.

I spent the night at Anna’s Bed & Kitchen, and it was an excellent place to relax after more than 100 kilometers on my bike. This hotel is in an old farm outside Varberg, and there was another cyclist there.

We talked about his ride from London to Gothenburg, and it was cool to share the experience on the road with someone else.

Day 04: Varberg to Gothenburg

The weather seemed great when I went out to set up my bags and my bike. And it is unclear to me why, but that day I woke up excited about cycling. Since there was no breakfast offered at Anna’s Bed & Kitchen, I went to a COOP supermarket that was on my way. There I figure out that my CamelBak had a small puncture. I fixed it on the spot with some tape I had, and that was it.

Leaving Varberg was great on the Kattegattleden. I was getting some speed and getting ahead of my schedule, and I even stopped at the Utsiktstornet Kärven and went up the tower for some panoramic pictures.

But everything turned sour around kilometer 35 or so. I was passing by Väröbacka, and I felt like something moved weirdly under my feet. My right pedal broke down. I tried to fix it using some zip ties that I had with me, but it didn’t work. I tried some paracord rope that I had, but it only lasted for a few meters.

Furthermore, I went to a supermarket to check if they had anything that could help me out cycling, but no. I looked at Google Maps, and there were two bike shops close to me. One of them was 20 km back in the direction where I came from, and the other was 35 km ahead, in the direction of Gothenburg. It was a terrible decision to make, but I cycled 35 km with a steel bar under my foot.

I believe I was cycling fueled by anger, and I didn’t stop many times for pictures or to eat anything during those 35 km ahead. When I got to the TeamSportia in Kungsbacka, I was relieved that it was over. I told the gentleman at the shop about my problem, and he was happy to help. We talked a bit about bike trips like this, and I was ready to continue my bike ride with a Shimano pedal under my feet. It was grueling, painful, and a reminder that Copenhagen to Oslo by bike requires mental fortitude as much as leg strength.

On my way to Gothenburg, I was stopped by a couple cycling. I believe their names were Jordan and Julien, and they asked me where I was heading. I mentioned Oslo, and they asked if I needed Norwegian coins. They were coming back from there and forgot to buy anything with it before, and now they were looking for someone to give it away to. I took the coins, and it felt like a sign from the universe that things would get better!

A little before I arrived in Gothenburg, I stopped to see the Mölndals Kvarnby. These waterfalls have a big historical importance to the area since they were used in the Middle Ages to power mills. In the late 1800s, they developed into one of Sweden’s most important industrial areas with paper production and oil storage.

Arriving in Gothenburg was a moment filled with many feelings. Especially after everything that happened during the day. But also because that was the first time I visited the city since 2013. Gothenburg was the first city I visited in Sweden, and it will always have a place in my heart because of it. Getting there by bike made things even better.

To celebrate the city, everything that happened during the day, and to mark the halfway point between Copenhagen and Oslo, I decided to go have some beers and burgers at the 2112 restaurant, and what a fantastic experience it was. There was some heavy music in the air, the bar was full of great beers, and the burgers were tasty!

I slept like a baby at the Scandic No. 25, and I was ready for another day on the road.

Day 05: Gothenburg to Uddevalla

Breakfast at the Scandic No. 25 was everything I needed to start the day going north. Especially because the forecast told me that it might rain during the day. Rain wasn’t something I was excited for since I knew already that between Gothenburg and Uddevalla I would have the biggest elevation gain of the trip so far.

Also, Gothenburg marked the end of my love affair with Kattegattleden, and I knew that I would have to spend some time cycling on the road. Not a big fan of that, but life goes on.

At least the scenery was interesting. I cycled past the Bohus Fästning, a ruined fortress built in 1308 that was quite a sight for me. Around Kareby, I passed by two fighter jets in the parking lot of a car dealership. No idea why they are there. I also could see from the road the massive size of the Tjörnbron, a cable-stayed bridge over Askeröfjorden.

When I arrived in Uddevalla, I was surprised to see that my bike would have to go around a rocky hill, going towards the Strandpromenaden in a wooden pathway over the water. That was the end of my 95 km bike ride, and I was happy to lie down for a moment at the Hotell Viking before I went around to explore the city.

Day 06: Uddevalla to Strömstad

As I mentioned before, I wake up and check the weather to see if there will be rain. Without any surprise, I learned that it would rain somewhere between Uddevalla and Strömstad, and I could already see it in the gray clouds outside my room at the Hotell Viking.

I took my bike to the road, and after less than 15 km of cycling, the drizzle turned into rain. Personally, I don’t really care about rain falling on me when I’m cycling. What really bothers me in the wet ground is that water is going to get to me when I pass by, and the water coming from below is what I don’t enjoy.

There were many hills on my way to Strömstad, and I believe I found a way to enjoy them somehow. Maybe it was the surrounding scenery that was filled with forests that helped out. I don’t know. But they distracted me when I passed by the massive antennas around Tanum Teleport, or else I would have gotten closer to them for some pictures.

At least I managed to find my focus on time to stop and go take pictures of the fantastic Rock Carvings in Tanum. This group of petroglyphs is so wonderful that UNESCO named it a World Heritage Site in 1994. Within the World Heritage Area, approximately 600 panels contain thousands of images known as the Tanum petroglyphs. The ones you can see here are from the area near the Vitlycke Museum, and they made my entire day cycling in the rain so much better.

After another day cycling around 95 km, I arrived in Strömstad, which I believe is the smallest town I stayed in during this bike ride from Copenhagen to Oslo. After I hung my bags and clothes to dry at the Crusellska Vandrarhemmet, I went out to the city since I needed some Swedish food to help my mood.

Based on what I saw on Google Maps, I decided to go to the Helnys kiosk och gatukök AB and try their meatballs. I talked to the people there, and they shared that their burgers are famous around the area, and I decided to get them too. I was starving, and this was one of the best meals of the entire trip.

Before heading back to Crusellska Vandrarhemmet, I stopped at one of the many alcohol shops they have in town. Since Strömstad is one of the last cities before Norway, many people go there to buy “cheaper” alcohol and bring it back home. The size of their shop was a clear sign of this!

Day 07: Strömstad to Moss

This was the day that I was finally going to cross the border to Norway, and I had been dreaming about this day since I started planning this silly little bike trip in 2018. Besides that epic moment, the day started with the glamour of every other day. While I had a sandwich in my hotel bedroom, I checked the weather, and it pointed towards rain, but it was colder than I expected.

When I left Strömstad, my hands even felt a bit cold, but this didn’t last long since I had to cycle to some special places before crossing the border.

The first place I passed by was the Grönehög, a burial mound that was built in the 6th century near the shoreline when the sea around the area was higher. Next to it, I stopped at the Stenskeppet, also known as the Blomsholm Stone Ship.

The stone ship in the burial ground is Blomsholm’s most famous ancient monument, and I had to stop my bike there for some pictures. Measuring 41 meters long and 9 meters wide, it is the third largest stone ship in Sweden. The stones amidships rise about one meter high, while those at the bow and stern reach more than four meters. When the 49 stones that make up the ship were raised around 2,000 years ago, the shoreline was much closer, and waves could crash against the ship.

Many hills and more than 600 km after I started to cycle in Copenhagen, I spotted the bridge that connects Sweden to Norway. And I believe I never felt euphoric like that before. From the bridge, you can see the water below you, and there were ships passing, and I had to stop for a moment and be happy that I managed to cycle all the way there.

The first kilometers cycling in Norway were not the best since I had to spend a lot of time on a narrow road that was busy with cars on both sides. It didn’t feel dangerous, but it was stressing me out. I was relieved when I arrived in Fredrikstad and had to stop cycling for a while to cross the Glomma River by ferry.

According to Strava, this was my personal record in elevation gain, and my legs felt that when I arrived at the hotel I booked in Moss. There I got a message from my girlfriend and my friends from Canal Alemanizando that they were already in Oslo waiting for me to arrive. This trip was almost coming to an end.

Day 08: Moss to Oslo

It was challenging to find a position to sleep in during the night; I was too excited and anxious to be able to rest. When it started getting bright outside my window, I decided it was time to get ready and packed the bike for my last day cycling to Oslo.

When I left Moss, the city was still covered in mist, and it was so humid that the spiderwebs next to the bike lane were covered in morning dew. The closer I got to Oslo, the busier the bike lane got. There were so many people biking on that early Sunday morning, and it felt great to see that. These people were having a great Sunday morning cycling, and so was I.

With each kilometer, I got more excited. When I spotted the Oslo Town Hall, it almost didn’t feel real. When I saw Camila, Rodrigo, and Elissa waving their arms at me, it hit me that I was about to end my bike ride. They had some of those black and white flags that you see in car races, and I was so happy to share that moment with them.

My girlfriend gave me a medal like she did when I arrived back in Berlin after the first stage of this trip. But, this time, she gave in Oslo. I had to stop for a moment to collect myself, and that was it. More than a thousand kilometers later, I finally arrived in Oslo. My dream trip was coming to an end, and I was still speechless.

Since I didn’t need to cycle anymore, it was time to drop my bike and my bags at the Citybox Oslo, take a shower, and go out to explore Oslo since this was my first time in the city.

As a big fan of black metal, the first place I visited in Oslo was the building where, on the night of 10 August 1993, Varg Vikernes stabbed Euronymous to death. If you are familiar with the Norwegian Black Metal scene from the early 1990s, you know what this means.

Close to it, you can find the St. Hallvards Kirke, which was built of brick and concrete exposed both to the interior and exterior. It has a fantastic design that feels brutalist in many ways and won several architectural awards after it was completed in 1966. One of the highlights for me is how the roof of the church room hangs down and gives the lowest height where it is traditionally highest.

From there, we walked towards the Ekeberg Park to see the statues and artwork there. But, before we arrived, we stumbled upon the Dildonissen that reminded me a lot of the Rotterdam Santa Claus that I visited before. It’s difficult to just write a few sentences about what I saw at the Ekeberg Park. I will need a full article about it in the future. The highlights for me were the Nordic Pixel Forest, the Dilemma statue, and the Venus de Milo aux tiroirs by Salvador Dalí.

After a long walk around the Ekeberg Park, we took our cameras to the city center since I wanted to see the Oslo Opera House while it was still sunny outside. The opera house was one of the first things I remember seeing in Oslo, and it was fantastic to be able to walk around and take pictures of this fantastic-looking place.

After several kilometers cycling to Oslo and many more walking around town, we had reindeer kebab for dinner and called it a night after having some beers at Crow Bar, which felt like the perfect way to end my bike ride from Copenhagen to Oslo. I couldn’t be happier about all this.

Day 09: Oslo

Since I didn’t need to cycle anymore, I left the bike at the hotel and went to have breakfast with Camila, Rodrigo, and Elissa at the W.B. Samson–Egertorget bakery. There we had one of the best grilled sandwiches I ever had and planned how to get to the Norsk Folkemuseum.

A short bus ride later, and there we were, walking around the Norsk Folkemuseum and seeing the historical architecture that shows how much Norway has changed through the years. But the highlight there, at least for me, was the Gol stavkirke. Also known as the Gol Stave Church, this is a stave church originally from Gol that dates from 1157 to 1216. Most of the main construction remained intact and in original form, and inside, you can still see original murals and medieval artifacts. It was magical to be able to see this.

As a way to continue with my black metal interest in Oslo, we headed to where Helvete used to be. If you have no idea what Helvete is, besides meaning hell in Norwegian, this is a record shop that was first opened in June 1991 by the late and now-infamous Mayhem’s guitarist Euronymous.

Since I visited the building where he was murdered, I had to visit his old shop since it feels like an unofficial black metal museum. I even tried to buy a Mayhem shirt there, but they didn’t have it in my size, so I got a Neseblod Records shirt, and I’m more than happy about it.

At the end of the day, Rodrigo and Elissa headed to the airport to fly back to Berlin, and Camila and I decided to go for a ferry ride around the islands of the inner Oslo Fjord. We took the B1 line from Aker Brygge, and it was fantastic to see the sky getting dark over Oslo from the water.

Day 10: Oslo to Berlin

One of the things that I was worrying about a lot was how to get my bike safely back home. I never had to deal with taking my bike on a plane before, and I was curious to see how it would work. I followed the rules and guidelines that Norwegian Airlines had on their website, got myself a bike bag, and packed everything so we could leave the hotel to explore Oslo one last time.

We headed towards the gorgeous houses around Damstredet and visited Munch’s and Ibsen’s graves at the Our Savior’s Cemetery. From there we walked towards the Akerselva river for some pictures, and we ended up at the Mathallen Oslo for an early lunch.

As a way to celebrate this massive bike ride, we went to Helt Vilt and decided to have something special. This is how we ended up with a dish called Arctic Journey that is made of grilled steaks of moose, reindeer, and minke whale. I thought that everything sounded so surreal that I needed to try it out. Of course, it was exceptional, and I will always remember this meal.

Before heading back to the hotel to pick up my bike and go to the airport, there was one last place that I wanted to visit. After walking for a few blocks, we arrived in a square that looked like many other places we passed by in Oslo.

But this square is different since this is where the 2011 Norway attacks happened, led by far-right extremist Anders Behring Breivik. A car bomb exploded at Regjeringskvartalet, where today there is a museum there called 22. Juli-Senteret, but we didn’t have to visit it.

The last thing I needed to do in Oslo was to get my bike in a bag and carry it to the airport. Even though it felt like a massive thing, it was easy to carry it, and I didn’t have any problems with dispatching it and picking it up again back in Berlin. Maybe I need to do this more often.

The End of My 10-Day Odyssey from Copenhagen to Oslo by Bike

As I mentioned before, in the article I wrote about the Berlin to Copenhagen bike ride, this entire trip felt to me like more than just a physical trip. It almost felt like a pilgrimage of self-discovery where I managed to find time to celebrate the simple pleasures of life. I started as a cyclist that wasn’t fully comfortable on the road and ended as a bikepacker who could handle a broken pedal in a foreign country and a downpour in the Swedish woods.

Even when it was raining and I had to climb hills, it still felt like a fantastic experience. The challenges only made me more determined to cycle and increased my appreciation for everything around me.

And I’m sure that this trip has sparked a fire, a love for bikepacking that will last forever. I will never forget the open road and bike lanes, the flexibility to go at my own speed, and the sense of accomplishment I get from finishing each kilometer.

I’m already planning and looking forward to the next one! This was the beginning of my backpacking journey, and I can’t wait to see where the road leads me next!

Copenhagen to Oslo by Bike for Beginners: The conclusion to my dream bike trip

The post The Ultimate Cycling Guide: From Copenhagen to Oslo by Bike appeared first on FRAME TRAVEL ROAM CAPTURE.

It was designed by Axel Schultes and Charlotte Frank, who also worked on the Berlin Chancellery. What they created feels less like a building and more like a sensory experience. While I was there, this was one of the many things that came to mind.

I went to the Krematorium Baumschulenweg in November 2025, during Totensonntag, which is the annual date of Berlin’s Crematorium Day. This is a special day in the city when people can visit the Berlin crematoria, see how cremation works, and explore a bit of these places.

But my experience with the Krematorium Baumschulenweg started many years ago when I passed by bike through the area. A building made of concrete caught my eye, and I remember stopping next to the gates and wondering, What is this?. When I got home, I did a little research and found out that this place has been used in many movies and series like Aeon Flux, John Wick, Cloud Atlas, and the sci-fi series Foundation. That made me want to visit it even more.

It took a few years, but, on Berlin Crematorium Day in 2025, I managed to go in with my Mamiya RZ67 and take as many pictures as I could.

Beyond the Veil: The Art and Function of Krematorium Baumschulenweg

From outside, the Krematorium Baumschulenweg is a massive, seamless block of exposed concrete that feels more like one of the many brutalist buildings in Berlin than a crematorium. It measures 50 by 70 meters, and it sits partially submerged in the landscape, with ten meters anchored in the ground and the other ten meters rising towards the sky. While the facades remain minimalistic, the front of the building opens up through vast glass surfaces and atriums that feel to me like an invitation for a dialogue between the interior and the surrounding cemetery.

The heart of the crematorium is what is known as the “Condolence Hall,” which is a large area defined by 29 towering concrete columns. But these columns are not there just for structural support. They end in circular skylights that allow the sun to pour into the space like a cosmological event in an ancient burial space. The architects envision this hall as a covered square where groups of mourners can congregate at the same time while still being protected in their personal sorrow. By positioning the columns to create “distancing rooms,” the individual journey can remain private and personal even in public areas.

Besides that, there are three ceremonial halls: two smaller ones for around 50 people and a grand hall for 250. They are all designed as what feels to me like boxes of split stone. Slat-steered glass casings cover the windows, which look out onto the grassy cemetery. This feels intentional in the best way possible since I can picture how the focus from a service would shift towards the light outside. This seems to me to be a subtle change from the building’s heavy concrete interior to the sky and clouds outside.

Based on what I read, Axel Schultes and Charlotte Frank noted that architecture cannot make people “happy” about death, but it can provide a place of rest and silence. And it seems to me like they achieved this precisely in the Krematorium Baumschulenweg. This massive structure celebrates the space differently, using the brutalist weight of the concrete to honor the weight of the human experience.

A Rare Look Behind the Scenes

The Krematorium Baumschulenweg’s architecture attracts design enthusiasts all year long, but the building is only fully accessible to the public on the Day of the Crematorium. This is one of the opportunities that the public has to see behind the curtain on the technical and emotional realities of cremation.

During my visit on Totensonntag, the atmosphere there was of respectful curiosity rather than gloom. There were small exhibitions on the history of burial rites, a harp concert, and some panel discussions and presentations. They also had a technical tour, but it was already sold out when I got there. Next time I’ll arrive earlier just to see this rare opportunity to view the process and the machinery required in the cremation process.

It can be complicated to find a way to visit this place, but you should keep an eye out for the next Crematorium Day. Krematorium Baumschulenweg is one of Berlin’s most influential, albeit unconventional, landmarks, whether you are an architecture enthusiast like myself or a traveler seeking a moment of contemplation.

The Brutalist Architecture of Silence: A Visit to Berlin’s Krematorium Baumschulenweg

Südostallee 55, 12437 Berlin

The post Inside the Krematorium Baumschulenweg: Concrete, Light, and Shadows appeared first on FRAME TRAVEL ROAM CAPTURE.

I first visited this place when I went for a bike ride to Steglitz. I decided to look for a shortcut next to Sudkreuz, and I passed by the Grazer Damm housing estate. There I noticed something interesting about one of the buildings as I passed by. And I remember taking a picture of it so I could save the location and try to learn more about it later.

Back in the summer of 2022, I headed back there to document the small stone reliefs that appear above the entrance of the buildings. This is the main reason why you will mostly see them here and not many pictures of the buildings themselves. You will soon understand why.

Grazer Damm: Berlin’s Largest Nazi-Era Housing Project Explained

Built during the Second World War, between 1938 and 1940, the settlement at Grazer Damm is made of around two thousand homes, making it the largest completed housing estate from the Nazi era. As you walk along the 1.3-kilometer stretch of buildings, it’s easy to see how big this place is. They almost feel like a fortress.

Designed by a team of architects that included Hugo Virchow and Richard Pardon, they were led by Albert Speer since the goal here was to build something that would survive in a future war. The plan was to make a part of the future Welthauptstadt Germania into an air-raid-proof city, and this idea guided how the buildings were set up.

When you walk around the area, you will notice that the blocks have open areas on certain sides, and it seems like that wasn’t in place to help the residents with a view. This was done to allow the air pressure from bomb blasts to escape and prevent what caused courtyards to turn into firestorms during aerial attacks.

Hidden Symbols and Modern Struggles

But, as I said before, I wasn’t there to explore the Nazi-era architectural aesthetic of the buildings on Grazer Damm. I was there to capture the stone reliefs that are visible above the entrance doors of the buildings. Some of them show fairy tales like the animals from the Town Musicians of Bremen. These reliefs were put in place to help residents find their way.

However, some of them still serve as a reminder of Nazism’s ideological hold on daily life. There are still ceramics that show images of the Hitler Youth and the League of German Girls, the girls’ branch of the Nazi Party youth movement known in German as Bund Deutscher Mädel. Which is insane for me to see it on a building in the middle of Berlin.

Grazer Damm was a drastic shift in Living Standards

For those interested in social history, Grazer Damm is a fascinating location in addition to the historical artifacts from the Nazi era. I say this because these represent a big departure from the progressive New Objectivity that was led by the Bauhaus in the 1920s.

While the Weimar Republic gained international praise for trying to bring the lower levels of society to a higher standard, the Nazi era thought that these ideas were cultural Bolshevism. Instead of improving housing, they implemented what was called Volkswohnung, and it meant that apartments were designed to be the cheapest rentals possible. This meant that they didn’t have hot water or central heating, they rarely had balconies, and they followed a strict cost limit per unit.

And, surprisingly, even with all these horrible standards, they still stand today. But the Grazer Damm buildings have been facing a new kind of transformation in the last decades. It all started in 2004 when a state-owned property management company was sold to a private investment fund. This was the first step towards gentrification.

Later, extensive modernizations included the very balconies and heating systems that were denied to the original tenants. Now, they are driving up rents and causing tension for the long-term residents who have called these historic blocks home for decades.

How to Visit the Grazer Damm housing estate

The estate begins near the Schöneberg motorway junction (Bundesautobahn 100) and runs south toward the Insulaner hill. The area is pretty residential, so there won’t be much for you to explore around besides the Natur Park Südgelände. But if you want to go for a walk after exploring the area, the “abandoned” Schlangenbader Strasse tunnel and the Bierpinsel aren’t that far. 

The Dark Side of Berlin Design: Exploring the Grazer Damm Estate

Grazer Damm – Schöneberg
12157 Berlin

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