Real flamingos? Yes, she answers, real flamingos. She informs me that my lodge will be ready at 16:00 and is located straight ahead just before the flamingos. At the desk, I am welcomed by staff member Nancy, who is kept cool by the ceiling-mounted fans. Sweaty but happy that I changed into my flip-flops on the train, I join the queue at reception: a fake bamboo construction with elephant chairs and a corrugated metal roof. When Exberliner asked for figures on their carbon emission, the park was evasive and refused to give any out. BrandenburgвЂ™s Green Party have long criticised the parkвЂ™s high energy consumption, not least because of the public money it has received. 29.7 degrees Celsius with 51.9 percent humidity, to be precise. Thankfully a signpost reminds me that the distance to Berlin is in fact only 61km, and to Bali 9443km. Passing through the park doors is like entering a teleportation machine that instantly transports you to a sultry summer resort far, far away. As the shuttle bus approaches Tropical-Islands-Allee 1, there seems to be ample space for expansion. Tanjong sold Tropical Islands in January for в‚¬226 million to Spanish theme park company Parques Reunidos Group, who planВ to massively expand the parkвЂ™s accommodation with 100 new holiday lodges outside the hangar. The justification? With 500 employees, Tropical Islands is BrandenburgвЂ™s largest tourist-sector employer. The park wonвЂ™t release its financial figures, despite having received state subsidies to the tune of в‚¬18 million. There have long been speculations about the parkвЂ™s profitability as it has consistently fallen short of its annual visitor targets of 2.5 to 3 million guests, at the moment attracting 1.1 million tropical tourists a year. The site was then sold in 2003 to the Malaysian company Tanjong, who converted it into the tropical waterpark we know today.Д«ut it hasnвЂ™t all been smooth sailing. In 1996, German company Cargolifter took over the site and in 2000 completed building the largest free-standing hall in the world to produce airships, before filing for bankruptcy in 2002. Originally built by the Luftwaffe in 1938, the Red Army captured the field in May 1945, not returning it to the German government until 1992. The airfield on which it stands has weathered its share of history. On the horizon: a giant dome, 107 metres tall and 360 metres across, it is as high as the Statue of Liberty and as long as the Eiffel Tower is tall. Soon, the shuttle arrives and I am the solo traveller on an empty ghost bus to paradise, kitted out with lime and fuchsia seats sporting exotic bird patterns. Who goes to Tropical Islands on a Monday morning? So far, just me, it would seem. As the train pulls into the station, I eagerly look around to identify my fellow tropical tourists only to alight to an empty platform. The lodge that is to be my refuge for the next 24 hours comes in at в‚¬140.

While day tickets start from в‚¬42 (unless itвЂ™s your birthday, in which case its free), there are also a variety of tents and cabins in and outside the dome, available for overnight stays. Entry will cost you more than a smile, though. IвЂ™m struck by how prescient the lyrics are, as if George Michael himself could have foreseen the logical inevitability of late-stage capitalism producing a humungous, artificial oasis in central Europe: вЂњFun and sunshine, thereвЂ™s enough for everyone / All thatвЂ™s missing is the seaвЂќ.

As the Regio chug chugs through forests and fields en route to Cottbus, I put on WhamвЂ™s 1983 hit single вЂњClub TropicanaвЂќ. Destination: a former airship hangar in the Brandenburg countryside that now houses the worldвЂ™s largest indoor waterpark. Nicholas Potter goes on an overnight expedition to find out why one would hang out in a former airship hangar filled with tropical kitsch, flamingos and squealing brats вЂ“ aka Tropical Islands.Д¬ould Tropical Islands provide a sunny beach break without a Caribbean-sized carbon footprint? And on a post-apocalyptic planet, could we eventually all live in isolated domes with artificial climates? These are my thoughts as I board the 09:51 regional train from Ostkreuz to take me on what promises to be an exotic getaway right on BerlinвЂ™s doorstep.

Cargolifter tent