During my only visit to the divided Berlin, in 1988, I had experienced the city in all its terrifying absurdity. I vividly recall the so-called ghost stations of the subway:
Some Western subway lines passed through Eastern territory, resulting in a surreal commute. Imagine getting on the uptown 6 train at Union Square, but instead of stopping at 23rd, 28th and 33rd Streets, the train just slows down, and you are peeking out at dimly lit platforms patrolled by heavily armed soldiers from an enemy army. Then you get off at Grand Central to buy the paper and a bagel as if nothing had happened.