By WILLIAM COOK

Back from the brink: Dresden is recovering its beauty 75 years after its near destruction


A romantic weekend in Dresden? For most Britons, it must sound like a contradiction in terms. The mere mention of the place usually prompts some awkward questions or an uncomfortable silence: 'Dresden? isn't that the place we bombed to bits in 1945? Surely there's nothing left? Why would anyone want to go there?'

Until I first went to Dresden, 15 years ago, that was my attitude. I knew that before the war it was one of Europe's most beautiful cities. I knew it was flattened by Allied bombers and ended up behind the Iron Curtain. I'd always wondered what had become of it, but might never have got around to going there if it hadn't been for my father. I knew he was born in Germany, but until 1994 i had no idea he'd been born in Dresden during the war and had survived the bombing as a child.

In 1995 i went to Dresden to try to find my father's birthplace. Remarkably, the house where he was born was still there, but what was even more remarkable was how much else there was to see. My father's hometown was bruised and battered, but against all odds it was still beautiful. You could see why the Germans called it the Florence of the Elbe.

For me, there are three things that make Dresden an unforgettable destination. The first is the abundance of Baroque architecture - still incredibly substantial, despite what was lost during-the war. The second is the tranquil setting - built on the leafy banks of the river Elbe, surrounded by rolling hills and lush green meadows, it's a world away from the frenetic bustle of Berlin.

The third (and probably the best) is the sense of adventure. There are lots of sightseers in the heart of town, but outside the centre you feel like a traveller, not a tourist. And now Lufthansa has started direct flights from Heathrow, it's only a few hours away.

The first time i came here, Dresden's regeneration was just beginning. The main landmarks had been spruced up, but there were lots of empty spaces in between. Now these gaps are being filled as the city's old buildings are reconstructed. It's still a bit rough around the edges, and the rebuilding is far from finished, but Dresden's architects have followed the old street plan to the letter.

It feels magical to see the old city rising up before your eyes. the most spectacular reconstruction is the Frauenkirche, Dresden's Protestant cathedral. For 200 years it was the city's centrepiece, Germany's answer to St Paul's. When I first came it was a heap of rubble. Now it's been rebuilt, like a gigantic jigsaw puzzle. It sends a shiver down your spine to hear its bells ring out across the cobbled square.

The Frauenkirche is just one example of Dresden's revival, yet architecture is only half the story. Since my first visit, something more important has happened. Back then, Dresden was grand but empty, like a mausoleum. Today these streets are full of life.



As it was: Dresden, as captured by the brush of Canaletto in 1765


Arriving at Dresden's central station, there's little hint of what lies in store. Like the historic city centre, this part of town was badly bombed in 1945. Unlike the city centre, it was rebuilt in true socialist style. Pragerstrasse, once Dresden's smartest shopping street, became a high-rise wilderness.

It's like wandering through a council estate, and at first you may wonder what on earth you're doing here. Yet within a few minutes the spires of the old town appear on the horizon. This is the skyline Canaletto painted, and for the first time in a lifetime you can see it with your own eyes.

I crossed the Altmarkt, the ancient marketplace, transformed by the East Germans into a vast parade ground. When I first came here it was a windswept square, flanked by Stalinist apartment blocks. Today it's full of shops and restaurants. Apart from the Palace of Culture, a modernist eyesore adorned with murals of triumphant workers, it's as if the Soviets had never been here.

In 1995, these murals seemed spooky. Now they just seem quaint. Beyond this Cold War relic is Dresden's 17th Century Old Town, destroyed by the RAF and resurrected since the Berlin Wall came down.

Ironically, Dresden owes its beauty to an earlier disaster. The medieval city burnt down in 1685, and was rebuilt by Dresden's most notorious monarch, Augustus the Strong, Elector of Saxony. Augustus was an enlightened despot - a tyrant with good taste. He built an amazing array of mansions, now all immaculately restored, and assembled one of Europe's greatest collections of Renaissance art, now housed in his prettiest palace, the Zwinger.

Even if you're not an art buff, the Zwinger is a marvel. The building is enchanting and the contents are sublime. There are some wonderful paintings in here, including Raphael's serene Sistine Madonna, whose grumpy angels have become Dresden's unofficial mascots. However, the main attraction is Canaletto's cityscapes, depicting this city as it once was, and has become again. Meanwhile, the Albertinum, Dresden's newly renovated modern art museum, houses a fantastic array of German art, from Caspar David Friedrich to Gerhard Richter.

Yet there's more to Dresden's revival than art galleries. Across the river, in the New Town, you'll find the Bohemian enclave of Louisenstrasse, with its boutiques and bars and record shops. It's scruffy and chaotic, an invigorating contrast to the Old Town.

Built in the 18th Century, Dresden's New Town is actually a bit of a misnomer. Fewer bombs fell here, so it actually feels older than the Old Town. It's a lot more lively, too. Its boulevards are lined with pavement cafes and dotted with antique shops, where you can buy an Iron Cross, a million-mark banknote or a Communist-Party medal - the history of modern Germany in one shop window.

The New Town is also the best place to stay. Last time, I stayed at the Bulow Residenz, an elegant townhouse built in 1730. This time, I stayed in the Bulow Palais, its new sister hotel, built last year in the same style on an old car park. I could hardly tell them apart.


Arts and crafts: A Dresden worker finishes a delicate Meissen porcelain figurine


Wherever you are in Dresden, you're not far from countryside. You can walk along the Elbe, past farms and vineyards, out into open fields. There's a lovely riverside palace, Schloss Pillnitz, which you can reach by paddle-steamer from the city centre, and the knights-in-armour castle, Moritzburg, is just a short ride away on a wheezy old steam train.

If you're feeling more adventurous, the medieval town of Meissen is only half-an-hour away by train. Also located on the Elbe, it survived the Second World War virtually unscathed. You can tour the factory that makes the famous porcelain and buy an exquisite (if expensive) souvenir in the showroom, or hunt for second-hand pieces in the old curiosity shops. Here there's less tourist traffic and the past feels very close.

I finished my weekend in Dresden back on the banks of the Elbe, watching the paddle-steamers chug past beneath the dome of the rebuilt Frauenkirche.

When my grandmother left here, with my infant father, on the last westbound train before the Red Army arrived, this city was in ruins. I wish she was still alive to see how her son's birthplace has been reborn.


Travel Facts

Lufthansa (0871 945 9747, www.lufthansa.com) flies to Dresden from Heathrow from £89 return.

The Bulow Palais (00 49 351 80030; www.buelow-residenzen.de) offers rooms from £150 a night. Doubles at the Bulow Residenz start at £96.

For more information, contact the German National Tourist Office (www.germany-tourism.co.uk) or Dresden Tourism (www.dresden.de).


source : dailymail