Patiently, as befits an old Hawaiian history buff, by bits and pieces over the years, I've retraced parts of the route our King David Kalakaua took on his circumnavigation of the world in 1881, making him the first reigning Hawaiian monarch to make such a journey.

The Cold War was raging the first time I was in Berlin, more than a quarter of a century ago, and an abominable concrete wall kept me from seeing many of the buildings Kalakaua saw in what was, when I visited, East Berlin, and the palaces he visited in nearby Potsdam.

As did other patriotic American tourists then, I dutifully trooped to the U.S. Army's Checkpoint Charlie, where American and Soviet tanks had a tense standoff in 1961, took a snapshot of the ugly barrier and cursed its builders. I'd come back after the wall came down, I promised myself.

And I did, arriving in the happily reunified Berlin on the last Saturday of last month. I asked at the desk of my hotel, the Berlin Grand Hyatt, if there was anyone on staff who knew nineteenth-century local history.

"No such person," I was told, but if there was "something specific," perhaps they could help me find it.

"A Hawaiian king was in Berlin in 1881," I began.

"Yes," responded a bellman standing by. "King Kalakaua arrived in Berlin on this precise day, July 29, 125 years ago."

"Today is the very day he came to Berlin?" My jaw dropped at the fortuitous timing of my arrival. "How in heaven's name did you know that Kalakaua came here?"

"Everyone in Berlin knows of this visit." He smiled self-deprecatingly in acknowledgement of his hyperbole. "A newspaper article reported the details of it — in the Morgenpost about a week ago," he explained. "I'll get a copy for you."

Off he went and returned a few minutes later with the article, the headline of which he translated as "The Unexpected Guest." The subhead read: "125 years ago the king of Hawai'i visited Berlin. And the German emperor was not at home."

"I am astounded that a newspaper half a world away from Hawai'i remembered his visit to Berlin on the 125th anniversary of the trip," I said, "when no newspaper in Hawai'i has written much, if anything, about it this year."

After identifying himself as Christian Rock, the bellman nodded thoughtfully. "On Monday," he suggested, "you could phone the author at work to learn why he wrote about the Hawaiian king's visit." He handed me a biographical sketch that included a photo and work number of journalist Sven Felix Kellerhoff.

On Sunday, after attending mass at beautiful St. Hedwig's Cathedral at Bebelplatz, I walked a few blocks to a bookstore called Berlin Story, where I hoped to find a picture book of Berlin in 1881. I wanted to see those buildings that didn't survive the devastating bombing by the Allies during World War II.

No such luck. But I did meet the store's owner, a former journalist who had urged Kellerhoff to write the story of Kalakaua's visit. He also is a publisher of books about Berlin, one of the latest being "1881: Berlin's First Telephone Book."

"Although nothing official resulted from his visit," the publisher said, "I find it fascinating that a king of Hawai'i would visit Berlin."

And others are fascinated, too. A group of women in Berlin who formed a Hawaiian dance group are learning all they can about the king's visit. And there are two films in German about him. One of them is titled "Aloha in Three-four Time."

The bookstore owner kindly phoned Kellerhoff and left a message suggesting we meet at five the following day at the Mittelbar, located in the newspaper's office complex.

Sven is a robust and busy man. He announced he still had "research to do this day," took off his wristwatch and placed it on the table where he could glance at the time without being too obvious.

He stared at me intently. "You are the first person from Hawai'i I've ever seen."

Feeling inadequate, I stammered, "I'm not representative, I fear."

Sven told me news of the visit had not leaked to the press and no reporters were at Lehrter Station to pester the king for an interview. Without fanfare he was greeted by aides of the royal family and escorted to the fashionable Hotel de Rome on shaded Charlottenstrasse.

Sven found find no record of any official dealings with the German government by Kalakaua, which he thought unusual. The newspapers of the day, in each and every edition, reported on the king's activities, and all of the reports were social or otherwise informative to a royal tourist who loved military display. But no work got done.

And the timing of his visit was strangely uncoordinated: The Emperor was away at Ems, and Crown Prince Frederich William was traveling. Not even Chancellor Otto von Bismark was in town.

As he talked on, I was impressed by the thoroughness of his research and knowledge of the king, and said so, offering to supply any information I could.

He politely told me that, fascinating as the king was, he did not intend to write another article about Kalakaua. Glancing at his watch, it was time for him to bicycle off.

He left so hurriedly that he forgot his watch. After finishing my pint, I left it in the care of a clerk at the newspaper office.

The following day I learned at The Center for Berlin Studies that there was no Hawaiian representative in Berlin at the time of the king's visit, which perhaps explained why the government had scheduled no official meetings.

Residing in Berlin as secretary of the Hawaiian legation until a few months before the visit was a man named F. Williams Damon. His office address was Behrenstrasse 39 West, in the embassy district.

Upon returning home, I learned from Marilyn Reppun at the Mission Houses that the Damon in Berlin was the brother of Honolulu banker Samuel Mills Damon, a partner of Charles Reed Bishop. And that an account of his diplomatic service in Berlin is recounted in the recently published "All Men Are Brothers: The Life and Times of Francis Williams Damon" by former Punahou teacher Paul Berry.

Damon was on his way home to Hawai'i when Kalakaua was in Berlin. Each man headed in a different direction, they had met in India. What they discussed is not known, says Berry.

Following in the footsteps of Kalakaua, himself an avid traveler and open to adventure, is a great way to see a city. And it is instructive to learn that people in those foreign places have an interest in our history.

Hawaiians always have been great adventurers. Wherever they went, they made a good impression and were fondly remembered. We — even those of us who are not representative — inherit a proud legacy.

Bob Dye is a Kailua-based historian and writer. He wrote this commentary for The Advertiser.