Anne‑Sylvaine Chassany advises anyone moving to Berlin from London, Paris or any major cosmopolitan city to avoid the Kurfürstendamm on Sundays. The boulevard is usually closed, casting a melancholy mood even in high summer, as the department store Ka De We appears forlorn with its giant “SALE” signs rendered meaningless by Germany’s constitutionally protected day of rest, or Sonntagsruhe.

If you work full‑time and have children, shop early on Saturday. By mid‑afternoon most shops wind down; my local Bio Company stays open until 9 pm, the nearest bike repair shop is open only 10 am‑12 pm, Thörner closes at 4 pm, and I dash into my dry cleaner’s at 2 pm, often getting an exasperated glance at the wall clock.

Germany’s strict Sonntagsruhe is defended by unions and churches; in 2024 Verdi, one of the largest trade unions, blocked a supermarket chain from opening self‑service shops on Sundays. Chancellor Friedrich Merz, a Catholic, now proposes longer hours for restaurants and travel‑hub supermarkets, while retail lobbies push for more radical changes. The debate echoes the French Macron Law of 2016, which allowed Sunday trading in 30 tourist zones, but the impact was modest.

A 2025 study found only modest gains in retail employment and hours in targeted zones, and most extra spending merely displaced purchases made on other days. Yet the atmosphere improves when a bustling high street beats the Sunday blues; few places are more depressing than a silent boulevard, though the bells of Berlin’s churches still call the faithful. I would gladly support Germany’s stagnant economy by strolling Manufactum on a Sunday, if my Saturday sprint allows it.