Few Great Sights—of the few Great Sights I have seen—succeed in rising above their attendant hassles. Even where these are mild, when the bright-coloured bodies clear, and a spell keeps the hucksters away, Great Sights tend to be dwarfed by their reputations. You note the thing on some list or other—10 Must-See Sights in X Location: Don't Die Before Seeing Them All!—and persuade yourself to make the pilgrimage—because how could you possibly travel all the way to X Location and not see X Sight? It may have been exhaustively documented by previous visitors, to the extent that you already know it better than parts of your own neighbourhood, but surely nothing compares to seeing it In Person; surely photos and mid-afternoon travel shows could never truly do it justice. Resolute, excited, you rise at 5 am, outsmarting the lazy late-risers who will stream in at noon, and carefully plot out your journey. And you take the bus or train or ferry and you arrive, finally, at the Great Sight, and you stand before it, and you think, 'Huh. There's that thing from the photos.'
And so it was with Brandenburg Gate.