When I was still living in Berlin as a youngster the First of May always used to be a beautiful day. A cold night preceded a sunny day with blue sky all over the city. The trams were decorated with fresh green from the Birch trees and they carried the flag of Berlin with the little bear.
Of course, there used to be the rallies organised by the Unions for the rights and a better life for the workers. A couple of times I joined my mother and her colleagues from the post office and we marched through the still bombed out city. Nobody thought of torching the few cars that were parking on the side of the road. There might have been the odd three-wheeled Tempo who belonged to someone who had to earn a crust (this is an Australian expression about someone who earns a little bit of money to feed his family – crust of bread).
Later during the day, when the sun had risen to the zenith and warmed our naked arms – the sleeves were rolled up – we. my friends and I, took our bikes for a ride to the Havel lakes and went for a swim in the still icy water.
The 1st of May was always the start of the most beautiful month in Berlin. Spring was in full swing.