Walk through the usually tranquil Tiergarten forest and out into the square and suddenly you're in the middle of it all. Floats, pumping out sound and laden with dancing bodies, push slowly through a solid mass of people.

The realisation that Love Parade happens in a city which just 11 years earlier was divided by concrete wall and Cold War makes the significance of this peaceful gathering globe-trotting party-goers all more impressive.

And Berlin is already an impressive city: while it's not picturesquely beautiful like Venice or Paris, it is raw and real and full of energy in a way few other cities can compete with.

Forward and modern, yet with a unique history that hits you in the face, Berlin's bustling centre is home to the old Kaiser Wilhelm church, whose tower was half blown-off in WWII and has been left that way ever since - a reminder of a war that seems incomprehensible when Love Parade weekend arrives, the music is booming and a massive dance-music subculture has descended for a good time.

Although it's pricey (the cheapest hostel bed costs at least £15), Berlin is sickeningly well-organised and you can get by on £25 a day if you're careful (and don't touch the booze, an almost impossible task in this city).

Cheap restaurants abound, or for a cheaper option eat your cheese-and-salami-on-rye Berlin style at stand up-only cafes. And while Berliners aren't famous for being the world's smiliest lot, most are helpful, kind and speak English well; as with anywhere, some politeness and the odd 'danke' goes a long way.

Berlin recovers from Love Parade much faster than its participants. Soon as the crowds disperse, and the last whistles ceremonially buried in the forest, the normal inhabitants come out from hiding. Having yielded its streets to the teeming techno masses for the 12th year, Berlin surreally returns to its efficient daily grind, as if nothing ever happened.

Annabel Hart writes for Lonely Planet's Scoop travel news.