Abandoned Bierlin - Zur alten Brauerei - Böhmisches Brauhaus

It never ceases to amaze me... the vast amount of spectacular, dilapidated sites ubiquitous to Berlin. Motivated largely by boredom, having been recovering in bed all week on some pretty hefty antibiotics, I decided to commence exploration of such sites.

Now, it might be said that those of you who know me well, and have any sort of idea just exactly how clumsy I am, would surely advise me against the idea of exploring abandoned Berlin buildings and sites alone. But nonetheless, against my better judgement, I’ve decided to throw caution to the wind and do it anyway. Further to that, I best get cracking! There is simply too much to see and too little time. Berlin is an adventurer’s wet dream! (not that I’d label myself as an ‘adventurer’, okay?! I’m 30 years old for goodness’ sake! I’m more of the curious, moderate sort...)

Tucked away in a backstreet of busy Friedrichshain, a stones-throw away from a bustling Grundschule (Primary School), you will discover ‘Zur alten Brauerei’, which literally translates to ‘To the old brewery’. 
(The quick research I've done would indicate that, in spite of the sign, the brewery is actually called 'Böhmisches Brauhaus')

Zur alten Brauerei- To the old brewery

'Böhmisches Brauhaus' 

The brewery was built in the years 1868 and 1869

Like so many other of Berlin’s abandoned sites, how I’ve managed to pass this one almost daily without noticing it, I find an indictment to my observational skills.

I arrived out the front and immediately noticed the flimsy fence erected around the premises- an invitation to curious passersby. I swiftly ducked through a hole in the fence, and started exploring...FOR TWO MINUTES MAYBE (!!), after which point I realised that I had no idea how exactly to explore things! All of a sudden I’d exhausted all the possibilities I could think of for gaining entrance. Shit. Okay, so what now? I figured there must be a way to do it, people DO this kinda shit all the time! And by george, I was determined. So, I hoisted myself up onto a roof, covered my jeans in filth in the process, realised that was fruitless, jumped back down, and sat for a moment to reflect on my options. 

Notice the gaping hole in the fence? Yep, I'm pretttttty skilled at break and enter, clearly!

Just like MacGyver, all of a sudden, things became clear. There was another fence I needed to enter. Noticing that there were people watching me from a neighbouring apartment block, my mannerisms became stealth-like. I slipped my hood over my head and jumped, like a leopard, over the fence. Okay, I was in. Now I needed to climb the wall to gain entry into the building. Like a freakin’ mountain goat, I scale the brick facade as quick as lightning, and find myself at what appears to be the former main entrance side of the brewery, now, completely fenced off from access. Feeling much more concealed and safe, I relax and have a little wander around the premises.

Just like me, scaling the brick wall

I manage to find a narrow entry point into what appears to be the former production line room. It is pitch-black but after a moment my eyes readjust and I make out the silhouettes of incredible machinery. With burners and belts and... things I have no idea what they are, I carefully, step-by-step, make my way through the room. 

A way in! Hallelujah!

Vorsichtig! 

All of a sudden, I come close to slipping into a large gaping hole in the flooring, and I am reminded of my vulnerability. If I fall and break my neck, what happens? I die here, in this pile of rubble, and nobody knows where I am. OR, in true MacGyver style, I reach for a piece of rusty aluminium and cobble together a neck-brace, just strong enough to alleviate my spinal cord from the crushing force of my vertebrate. I stand up, and I walk outta there, with blood and sweat on my brow. A modern-day hero. The children who are finishing up their school day and flooding out onto the street see me approach and they run to me, screaming ‘Meine Helde! Meine Helde!’ Although in pain, I understand the importance of being a role-model, so I stoop down to the height of the children and shake their hands. They applaud me and I get back onto my bicycle and cycle to hospital. The children chase me, screaming with admiration and excitement.

Okay, but back to reality (boring, I know!), I sit back and imagine the room in full operation. The grains tumbling down the large conveyer belt into the mill for crushing. The sweet smells of crushed barley. The giant oven roasting grains until they’re a caramel colour, the burning husks sharp on the nose. OH mein Gott! It’s kinda like beer porn for me. An abrupt jolt back into the now, and I realise it’s just a giant pile of, most probably, defunct crap. It kind of breaks my heart a little bit.

Maschinenhaus(Lower left image taken from Wikipedia, but if you compare it to my image on the lower right, you can see it is the same corner of the room, albeit better lit)

Drunk on the idea of commandeering this place, I lose all inhibitions and find some ladders I decide to climb as high as I possibly can. I climb, and climb, and climb. I reach the top, and again imagine if I were to slip down the precarious ladder. It’s scary, yet kind of exciting. 

 

I take some snaps of the beautifully graffitied chimney.

Not content with the extent of my adventure, I decide to keep exploring. Eventually I manage to get into another large room, this one clearly destroyed by fire. Its gaping expanse makes me wonder what its former use was. Probably bottling or packaging. It’s huge, and filled with fibreglass insulation sheets. I cover my mouth and nose for fear of breathing in undesirables. Asbestos. Fibreglass. Who knows what the poor homeless people living in these ruins expose themselves to.

I stop to read some of the graffiti on the walls. It’s mostly written in English. I wonder if that’s because English is the International language of graffiti, or if it’s just English speaking scum buckets that have the propensity to break into private property and destroy it with their crap. Not that all of the graffiti here is crap- some I find myself quite enamoured with. 

The other thing I can’t stop wondering about... what exactly happens with this site now? How long will it remain in this dilapidated state before some fat-cat comes along and buys it up to create commercial apartment complexes? Could it ever resurrect as a brewery again? The idea of what its future holds is bittersweet for me.
 
Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine that I was born into a family of money...
Equipped with enough money, the possibilities for this site are endless... I think about buying it, and starting my own brewery. I think about its restoration, and it’s potential. It is so goddamned exciting!

What on earth was this pretty tiled bath exactly used for?