Berlin Zoo

Entrance to the Berlin Zoo

I have an ambivalent feeling about zoos as travel destinations. On one hand the animals are not free to roam their habitats and live a life that is natural to them. On the other, the animals are well-fed and protected from predators, disease and discomfort. With the decline of natural habitats, zoos around the world might be the place to save many species, at least until better solutions can be found. Nevertheless, over the years zoos have been an excellent place to take nieces, nephews and younger friends for an entertaining day out.

The Berlin Zoo opened on 1 August 1844 and was the first zoo in Germany, and the ninth in Europe. The animals were originally part of the menagerie of Prussian King Frederick William III. After his death, his heir (Frederick William IV) gave the animals and land for the construction of the zoo. After successful building campaigns and collection, the zoo faced a crisis during the Second World War. Prior to the war, the zoo had a population of 1196 mammals and 2516 birds. The zoo, along with the rest of Berlin, was heavily damaged and many buildings housing animals were destroyed. By the end of the war only ninety-one animals (mammals and birds) survived, including Knautschke, a male hippopotamus.

Born in in 1943, Knautschke was the only remaining hippo in the zoo after the war and became a favorite among visitors as a symbol of survival amongst the ruins of Berlin. It made international headlines in the 1950s when Knautschke was reunited with his mate Grete from the Leipzig zoo for breeding purposes. He lived until 1988 when he was seriously injured by his own son (Nantes) and had to be euthanized. The seemingly quixotic monument to Knautschke is a statue that stands at a heavy-used intersection of the park, just outside the hippopotamus enclosure.

The statue of Knautsche

Knautschke remains highly popular at the Berlin Zoo, at least his statue does. While I waited patiently to take a picture of him, many children came running out of nowhere to climb on him and have, what appeared to be, an obligatory photography by doting parents. At one point I had been waiting for a while when a father placed his two children on Knautschke’s back for the second time (the first time he had taken pictures while other children were on the great hippo as well). He fumbled with his camera/phone, snapped a picture and then disaster occurred. He was talking to his daughter who I assume was about four years old, when his three year old son tried to get down, slid off the back of Knautschke and landed face first on the mulch surrounding the statue. There was a hesitation, and then the three year old let out a deafening scream. When his father picked him up, the little boy’s face and nose were a mixture of mulch and blood. Another father, who was pushing an empty pram, came running over with a travel-sized package of tissues and to offer support. A while later, I saw the father, no doubt, explaining the situation to the children’s mother via the same phone he so anxiously took the fateful photograph. There was a look of panic in his eyes.

500-year old English Oak

Given the devastation of the war, it is amazing when any objects of being survived the Second World War in Berlin. As such, that a 500-year old tree still survives in the zoo is amazing. The English Oak, also near the hippopotamus pen, is estimated to have begun growing in 1480 and survived the founding and growth of the park, as well as the war. Today the oak is the oldest tree in the zoo and very much alive; however, it has lost its crown. Thus, its days are likely numbered.

Bobby the Gorilla

Germans have long been known for revering and commemorating animals.  At the entrance to the zoo there is a statue of Bobby the Gorilla (1928-1935) who inspired the popular song, Mein Gorilla hat ‘en Villa im Zoo (My Gorilla Has a Villa in the Zoo). A sculpture of a group of polar bears, created in 1930, forms a gathering place near cafes and food stands adjacent to the exit of the park. My real objective for the trip was to find the memorial statue of Knut, the young polar bear that captured the world’s attention a few years ago. After winning the hearts of many people around the world, his tragic death was a shock and a year later the Berlin Zoo unveiled the tribute in his honor. I, like many people, was captivated by the pictures of the young polar bear. I even have a small plastic polar bear on a window seal that I refer to as Knut.

Eisbär (Polar Bear) - not Knut 

My Sunday morning at the zoo, by myself, made me think a lot about the purpose of such a venue. One of the first things I saw in the zoo was a little boy, of about six or seven years, who clearly has a fascination for things that reminded me of myself. When I saw him, he was at the flamingo pen dutifully copying the information that was provided on the sign. Meanwhile his parents and younger siblings looked on. After I spotted him, I immediately went to the nearest shaded park bench to write a brief note about what I had observed in my journal. Perhaps what that little boy and I record in our journals are different, but I understand and respect his motivation. For this little boy, the zoo was a source of inspiration.

Animals, especially our pets, are a central part of our lives. When I travel this comes into sharp focus; I miss my own and I see how many people in Europe walk and tote their dogs around (presumably, most house cats are too cool and disinterested to walk around European cities). Monument and memorials to famous animals are not uncommon. For example, the monument to Martha, the last known passenger pigeon, at the Cincinnati Zoo is particularly moving.  In an era where we are experiencing a mass extinction of several species, the practice of memorializing animals might become even more common. 

A frequent and faithful stop

Each year when I travel to Berlin, inevitably I visit the same place: the launderette in Wilmersdorf. There is a reason: it is clean, convenient and I have figured out how to use it. The establishment is more high tech than most because it has a central board where on pays money and controls the machines. In many ways I look forward to this stop because I can have clean clothes and regroup for the next portion of the trip.

Over the past eight years, or so, I have patronized this particular laundry mat, the same man has managed (or owned) the business. Although he is stern and somewhat severe, he is always kind and gracious to people who need help. But for people who do not follow his rules (some of which are unwritten) he offers pointed advice and directions. Once, several years ago, he chastised me for placing the wheels of my suitcase on a table used for folding laundry. I understand why as this helps to keep the place clean and prevents clean laundry from becoming dirty. Nevertheless, I was a little embarrassed by his chastisement.

During my visit this year an incident between the manager and an elder man escalated. The conversation, in German, was heated and rapid enough that I did not understand what the disagreement was about. A younger German-speaking customer, folding his laundry, kept shaking his head in disagreement each time the elderly man spoke. I reflected as I finished folding my own laundry that the manager’s actions were why I came back each year. He provides a clean comfortable place that is helpful and comfortable for his clients. It is one of the small charms of my Berlin sojourns. 

Sunny Stockholm

Stockholm City Hall

Life in in Stockholm during the summertime is sweet. I have been told that nine months of darkness makes Stockholmers revel in the few months of light and warmth. Since the city sits at nearly 60 latitude, long shadows makes the light play tricks, it soften colors, creating a seeming Kodachrome world. A week’s worth of fatigue and months of stress, take their toll and the words are difficult to summons. But the effects of the light are subtle and noticeable.

Many locals probably take the light for granted, but not the pleasant summer evenings. The cafes are full; people sit outside and stare at water fountains and flowers. People bask in the sun, which is neither too hot nor strong.

"Fabeldjur"
(Fable Animals / Fabulous Beast)

As the sun begins its long begins dip into the Western sky, a cool breeze reminds us that we are still in the north. Despite the temptation to dress as if a permanent heat wave is approaching, the cool nights, no doubt, reminds residents that this glorious summer is temporary and fleeting. Adam of Bremen, an 11th century chronicler, wrote: “Sweden is the most bountiful land in all the world; its soil is fat and fecund of grain and honey.” I think Adam may have visited in the spring or summer, but I appreciated his sentiments. While the winter may eventually come we should all take the example of the Swedes and live life to the fullest when we can. 

The Rituals of a Morning Walk in an American Town

There are rituals during a morning walk. Despite the development of a hypercompetitive, “virtually linked” world, it is still proper and right to acknowledge someone as you pass them on the sidewalk or trail in small town America. Often this acknowledgement comes in the form of a wave, a greeting of “good morning,” or less formal, a “morning” or a nod of the head. The morning walk is an affirmation that people still read the newspaper, sit on the front porch and are friendly to strangers. My sojourns in Europe leave the impression that this is less true in Europe. On a recent walk in the Belgian countryside, less than half the people acknowledged us as we walked.

In small town America, it seems that people are more likely to trust us as we walk. Often I am stopped to render directions. We are more prone to practice common courtesies when we are face-to-face with our neighbors. On a recent morning a man was mowing the berm. He stopped his lawnmower as I walked past. I said to him that he did not have to stop just because I was passing; I felt bad that he was interrupting his work. He replied, “I still do.” I thanked him. It was unclear whether his gesture was mandated or a simple act of kindness. Regardless, he was cheerful in his actions and he did not begrudge me the opportunity to walk the sidewalk.

It is difficult to say the same of people who are driving cars. As a walker, I have become increasingly suspicious of drivers. Automobile drivers can behave erratically and capriciously. Drivers are on the outlook for other cars, but can often overlook pedestrians. The anonymity of an automobile gives some drivers bravado and a sense of security that can be dangerous to walkers. My vantage point, as a walker, affords me an opportunity to observe drivers has allowed me to see the bad behavior of many: texting, eating and general distractions are much more prevalent than one would initially suspect (or at least that is true in my town).

A couple of stories to make my point. I was walking one Sunday Morning and I saw a woman driving a minivan fully engrossed in her cell phone. She traveled a good 75-100 yards without ever looking up. As she went by, I noticed a car seat in the back and a sticker on the rear window proclaiming “Baby on Board.” I think if she really cared about safety, then her actions would have been much different.

Just last week, another incident made me more cautious on my walks. I was walking on a Sunday morning that on a side street that was not particularly busy. A pickup truck noticed that the light two blocks away was green and sped up to at least 45-50 mph in a residential area so that he did not have to wait at a light. The flaw in his logic was that the light in question is not on a timer, but is actuated by sensors. There was no need to speed up so long as no cars came to the cross street. Luckily, there were no kids, people, cats or dogs wandering into the street.

Walking builds community and good relations, but it can be a dangerous proposition as well.

Edinburgh Palimpsest

This building on Nicolson Square offers a glimpse into Edinburgh’s not to distance past. The fading painting reads: “N. Martinot / Manufacturer of Baskets Foreign Bask…ugs Mats / Fancy Leather Goods Walking Sticks / Hardware & Woodware”

Gold Post Box

Some of the post boxes around the United Kingdom have been painted gold in honor of gold medal winners at the London Olympics. This box, which is on Hunter Square in Edinburgh, honors Chris Hoy, a gold medalist in cycling.

My Life with Trains (Part 1) Stations

Train stations are interesting crossroads of people and artifacts of travel methods past. For many decades trains travel opened up destinations to vast amounts of people. In an era of unreliable automobiles and non-existent air travel, locomotives took people to faraway places and opened new possibilities and horizons. These journeys often started, or ended, in grand edifices that symbolized the importance of the undertaking. These structures have fallen on hard times and many have disappeared. Yet, those that remain give us a glimpse to the romantic world of train travel.

I remember my first trip on Amtrak, Louisville to Fort Lauderdale, but I do not remember the station in Louisville very well. But vaguely I remember my parents talking about the beauty of the train station and what a shame it was rarely used any more. Today, train stations have become a fascination. I am only sorry that we, as a country, do not get to utilize them much anymore. While there has been a decline in railroads, at least some of the old railroad stations have survived.

Grand Central (March 2014)

Grand Central Station in New York is iconic. One of my favorite photographs is of the station in 1954 with sunlight pouring into the station highlighting the smoke/smog and creating streams of light that shine upon the people congregating on the main floor. Once someone wrote that we have come to love and revere Grand Central Station because of the destruction of old Penn Station. Recently, we watched an American Experience documentary on Penn Station, which chronicled the engineering feat and architectural glory of the former station. The station itself, which was private property, was destroyed as the result of a business decision. Most people lament the loss of the great landmark. Today what serves as Penn Station, adjacent to Madison Square Garden, is an inelegant structure that many revile.

30th Street Station (April 2014)

The Angel of Resurrection (1952)

On the other hand, 30th Street Station in Philadelphia is a gorgeous structure. Built between 1927 and 1933, it was one of the last great train stations to be built. Despite its beautiful Art Deco décor, perhaps the most distinctive feature of the station is the memorial to those from the Pennsylvania Railroad who died during World War II, which is stunning. Prominently displayed at the 29th Street exit the sculpture is impossible to miss. Named “The Angel of Resurrection” (1952), by Walker Hancock, it depicts the Archangel Michael lifting a deceased soldier from the frames of war. As prominent as Hancock’s piece is, another work in the station is interesting as well. “Spirit of Transportation” (1895), by Karl Bitter, was originally placed at the Broad Street Station but moved to 30th Street in 1933.  One detail that is worthy of note is on the extreme right side of the sculpture a young boy holds a toy airship, foretelling the development and utilization of air transportation eight years prior to the successful flight of the Wright Brothers.

Union Station (April 2014)

For as often as I had visited Chicago, it was only recently that I toured Union Station. My recent visit coincided with the home opener of Wrigley Field on its 100th anniversary. Cubs fans poured into the station from surrounding suburbs and made their way to alternative transportation, usually CTA “L” Trains, to complete their trip. Rather than the bustling of Grand Station or the utilization of the waiting space in 30th Street, Union Station looks empty. There are eight wooden benches, four on either end of the great hall, with the center remarkably open. The light-colored marble floors and the incredibly high sky lights gives the impression of lightness and magnitude. With so few people, the space looks even more massive. I read that the station is anticipating a threefold increase in the coming years. It seems that the station is well suited to accommodate the increased passengers.

While many stations create a nostalgic feeling of early twentieth century, Union Station Chicago has a slightly more recent nostalgia, perhaps from the mid-twentieth century. For example, the Metro Deli is an old-style bar complete with vintage advertisements for color televisions and historic photographs lining the walls. It is a traditional oval bar with a number of televisions, plus a sandwich carving station. As I looked around, I imagined men who had worked in the city having a beer while waiting for a train home to the suburbs, watching the final innings of a Cubs game on WGN. In my mind, Harry Caray was bellowing across the bar, hoping against hope for a late inning rally from the Cubs.

Penn Station (March 2014)

Lamp at Union Station Chicago

"The Spirit of Transportation" (1895)