Random Things I Saw in Europe
Justiceiro
Registered Users Posts: 1,177 Major grins
I usually post pedantic travelogues of grand tours in the Journeys Forum (fear not, I have a train trip to Istanbul planned for October and will be either enlightening or boring you, depending on your perspective, with that later this year). But lately, having been dragged off to Europe in a semi-permanent fashion by my CFO, I've been taking a number of side trips from the strategically placed city of Mannheim, where I now live.
None of these trips are really epic, but I've seen some cool stuff, and gotten a few shots that I think you guys might find interesting. Lately I have been posting some over in Landscapes, but I'm used to a more quality audience such as yourselves, so I decided to create this thread and tack things on as I see them.
I'll start with my recent Easter weekend trip to Prague. The better half and I rented a car and decided to travel overland to the city of 100 spires (so they say, I haven't counted them myself, I think it is actually more like 60 or so). We traveled via Heilbronn and Nuremberg, across the Sudeten Mountains to Cheb, and then on to Prague itself passing swiftly by Pilsen. I wanted to stop for beer, having a fod feeling about Pilseners, but we were short of time.
Dinklsbuhl
We crossed over the Romantic Road (Romantic as in Schiller, not smooching your girlfriend) and took a detour to the charming walled city of Dinklsbuhl, which is German for "man bits of the bull." It survived the 30 years war relatively unscathed by "donating" a ton of cash to the noble protestant cause, by which of course I mean the ravenous hordes of Swedish soldiers who were holding their Mayor hostage. Surprisingly, they didn't torch the place after getting the Ca$h, which was a standard Swedish move at that time (They're not all Ikea and Abba, folks). Perhaps they were exhausted from leveling virtually all the other towns in the region.
The famous "gate of the oxen's dingly"
Streets inside the town are narrow and cool. The place was also almost devoid of people, much less tourists, it being Easter and all.
The Dinklsbuhl "Rathaus" or "place of large Rodents" in the Bavarian Dialect
Houses not burnt down by rampaging Scandinavians
Tower from which said Swedes tossed a few recalcitrant citizens of the town, presumably for making snide comments about Beaker and persistently saying "hurgen burgen schnurgen" whenever a Swedish soldier walked by.
The mighty walls of Dinklsbuhl
Cheb
We then blazed past Nuremberg and climbed into the foothills of the Sudeten mountains. That's "sudeten" as in "sudetenland" as in "the second biggest reason why world war II got started in the first place." The first reason, of course, being the Austrian Corporal (that's what my Hungarian College History professor always called him. No one can sneer quite like a Hungarian.)
I used to live and teach English in Cheb, back in the ages before internet and iPhones, which would be 1993. It's an odd place, with a reputation in the Czech republic for having the most unpleasant citizens in the country. I think that's unfair. Ostrava is waaaay worse.
But Cheb's history is strained. It's a border town- the border between the Habsburg lands and the Germanies, the Slavs and the Germans, Eastern Bloc and Free world, Protestant Bohemia (before it was ruthlessly reconverted) and Catholic Bavaria. It's tough to be a Chebsker. Anyway, before 1945 the population was about 95% German, and Konrad Henlien eagerly called for the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia and the return of the Sudetenland to "the ancient homeland." (which, if you know any history, is ridiculous. At no point was it a part of "Germany." Austria, perhaps, but that's not Germany). After the war the town became 100% Czechoslovak. That wasn't a pretty story either. When I taught there I asked all the students with names like Bauerova, Grunwaldova, and Fischerova if they had German ancestry. They claimed not to (which is certainly possible, after all, how many Germans have names like "Tucholsky"?). Only one student proudly stated that his family was in fact German. They were one of the only families to avoid expulsion because the winter was cold and his great grandfather was the only guy who knew how to keep the city power plant going.
The whole city is bloodstained and tinged with darkness. For real, you can feel it. That's why I blazed out to Moravia after six months. Also, it was -10 for over a month and my apartment had no heat. Ahh, the glories of Czechnology.
This is the Church of St. Bartholomew, where the priest instigated the infamous Easter Pogrom of 1350. The towns Jewish population were all killed, having been blamed for the Plague.
Above is another building with a checkered history. The "Spalicek" was for most of its existence (it was built in the 15th century) the city's central Inn and Tavern. They still make decent coffee, but it's a lot more expensive than it was in 1993, having climbed from $0.30 to about $2.
Anyway, this is where the most notorious catholic strongman, general, butcher, and bad boy of the Thirty Years war met his grisly end. Albrect von Wallenstein (aka Albrecht z Valdštejna) was one of the nastiest SOBs the war ever brought forth, and it brought forth a lot. He rose to become the head General of the Imperial (catholic) armies.
A little background. Bear with me, but I love this story.
Much like WWII, the opening salvos of the Thirty Years war were fired in Bohemia. Their own proto-Luther, Jan Hus, had been burned at the stake some 200 years before, and Bohemia was in general extremely "protestanty." Little Albrecht was from an old noble, protestant, Czech speaking family. However, in 1618 the Bohemian estates got tired of Emperor Ferdinand trying to shove Catholicism down their throats. They threw his ambassadors out of the town hall tower in Prague (the Second Defenestration of Prague, 1618) while nominating their own protestant King, Frederick (Lord of Mannheim, don't you know). Wallenstein decided to throw in his lot with the Emperor. Remember this word, "Defenestration", it means "to throw someone from a window in order to affect grievious bodily harm." It's a Czech tradition. The "First Defenestration of Prague" took place in 1419 when Catholics trying to recatholocize Hussites were tossed from the Prague City Hall tower, onto the pikes of soldiers below, contrary to the 1618 redux, where they fell, literally, into an enormous pile of Horse %#$@. Other than their dignity they were uninjured.
The third defenestration of Prague took place in 1948, when the communists killed Jan Masaryk. So this is a long standing thing. I joke a lot, it's true, but the above story of the Defenestrations of Prague is 100% factually correct. They even have titles.
So, back to Wallenstein, who had developed a new technique of warfare. Prior to Wallenstein, generals sacked enemy towns and carted off their stuff to pay their soldiers and fund the war effort. Pretty Standard stuff. But Wallenstein was an innovator. He thought it was unfair that only one side, the enemy, should pay for the war. So he sacked friendly towns too. The main differences being that, after he was through he didn't burn the friendly (although probably not as friendly as it once was) town, and that he called it "war taxes" instead of plunder. But he still departed with all your goats, the family silver, and likely your daughter's virtue; leaving behind only the satisfaction of having helped the catholic cause, an empty stomach, and syphilis. Because he took everybody's stuff instead of just the enemies stuff, he became twice as successful and twice as powerful as any other General, and ended up owning most of Bohemia. Including Cheb.
Emperor Ferdinand, Wallentein's Boss, decided that Old Albrecth's gang was a little too rich and a little too scary, and made plans to have him whacked.
So two guys, a Czech and an Englishman (so say the official sources, local people swear the second guy was Irish and I'm inclined to believe them) sneak into Wallenstein's room at the Spalicek (pictured above) in order to kill him. They just can't agree on how.
The Czech, of course, is all for tossing him out the window. Naturally, that's the Czech thing to do. The other guy wants to stab him with a giant Halberd. (See, I told you he was Irish). So they compromise. They stab him, and then throw him out the window.
Pre-Digital photograph of the Assassination of Wallenstein.
Needless to say, nobody really missed him. Not even his soldiers.
I shall post Prague tomorrow my friends!
The pavement of the Town Square of Cheb. This was probably Wallenstein's last view of this mortal coil. Sic Semper Clunibus!
None of these trips are really epic, but I've seen some cool stuff, and gotten a few shots that I think you guys might find interesting. Lately I have been posting some over in Landscapes, but I'm used to a more quality audience such as yourselves, so I decided to create this thread and tack things on as I see them.
I'll start with my recent Easter weekend trip to Prague. The better half and I rented a car and decided to travel overland to the city of 100 spires (so they say, I haven't counted them myself, I think it is actually more like 60 or so). We traveled via Heilbronn and Nuremberg, across the Sudeten Mountains to Cheb, and then on to Prague itself passing swiftly by Pilsen. I wanted to stop for beer, having a fod feeling about Pilseners, but we were short of time.
Dinklsbuhl
We crossed over the Romantic Road (Romantic as in Schiller, not smooching your girlfriend) and took a detour to the charming walled city of Dinklsbuhl, which is German for "man bits of the bull." It survived the 30 years war relatively unscathed by "donating" a ton of cash to the noble protestant cause, by which of course I mean the ravenous hordes of Swedish soldiers who were holding their Mayor hostage. Surprisingly, they didn't torch the place after getting the Ca$h, which was a standard Swedish move at that time (They're not all Ikea and Abba, folks). Perhaps they were exhausted from leveling virtually all the other towns in the region.
The famous "gate of the oxen's dingly"
Streets inside the town are narrow and cool. The place was also almost devoid of people, much less tourists, it being Easter and all.
The Dinklsbuhl "Rathaus" or "place of large Rodents" in the Bavarian Dialect
Houses not burnt down by rampaging Scandinavians
Tower from which said Swedes tossed a few recalcitrant citizens of the town, presumably for making snide comments about Beaker and persistently saying "hurgen burgen schnurgen" whenever a Swedish soldier walked by.
The mighty walls of Dinklsbuhl
Cheb
We then blazed past Nuremberg and climbed into the foothills of the Sudeten mountains. That's "sudeten" as in "sudetenland" as in "the second biggest reason why world war II got started in the first place." The first reason, of course, being the Austrian Corporal (that's what my Hungarian College History professor always called him. No one can sneer quite like a Hungarian.)
I used to live and teach English in Cheb, back in the ages before internet and iPhones, which would be 1993. It's an odd place, with a reputation in the Czech republic for having the most unpleasant citizens in the country. I think that's unfair. Ostrava is waaaay worse.
But Cheb's history is strained. It's a border town- the border between the Habsburg lands and the Germanies, the Slavs and the Germans, Eastern Bloc and Free world, Protestant Bohemia (before it was ruthlessly reconverted) and Catholic Bavaria. It's tough to be a Chebsker. Anyway, before 1945 the population was about 95% German, and Konrad Henlien eagerly called for the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia and the return of the Sudetenland to "the ancient homeland." (which, if you know any history, is ridiculous. At no point was it a part of "Germany." Austria, perhaps, but that's not Germany). After the war the town became 100% Czechoslovak. That wasn't a pretty story either. When I taught there I asked all the students with names like Bauerova, Grunwaldova, and Fischerova if they had German ancestry. They claimed not to (which is certainly possible, after all, how many Germans have names like "Tucholsky"?). Only one student proudly stated that his family was in fact German. They were one of the only families to avoid expulsion because the winter was cold and his great grandfather was the only guy who knew how to keep the city power plant going.
The whole city is bloodstained and tinged with darkness. For real, you can feel it. That's why I blazed out to Moravia after six months. Also, it was -10 for over a month and my apartment had no heat. Ahh, the glories of Czechnology.
This is the Church of St. Bartholomew, where the priest instigated the infamous Easter Pogrom of 1350. The towns Jewish population were all killed, having been blamed for the Plague.
Above is another building with a checkered history. The "Spalicek" was for most of its existence (it was built in the 15th century) the city's central Inn and Tavern. They still make decent coffee, but it's a lot more expensive than it was in 1993, having climbed from $0.30 to about $2.
Anyway, this is where the most notorious catholic strongman, general, butcher, and bad boy of the Thirty Years war met his grisly end. Albrect von Wallenstein (aka Albrecht z Valdštejna) was one of the nastiest SOBs the war ever brought forth, and it brought forth a lot. He rose to become the head General of the Imperial (catholic) armies.
A little background. Bear with me, but I love this story.
Much like WWII, the opening salvos of the Thirty Years war were fired in Bohemia. Their own proto-Luther, Jan Hus, had been burned at the stake some 200 years before, and Bohemia was in general extremely "protestanty." Little Albrecht was from an old noble, protestant, Czech speaking family. However, in 1618 the Bohemian estates got tired of Emperor Ferdinand trying to shove Catholicism down their throats. They threw his ambassadors out of the town hall tower in Prague (the Second Defenestration of Prague, 1618) while nominating their own protestant King, Frederick (Lord of Mannheim, don't you know). Wallenstein decided to throw in his lot with the Emperor. Remember this word, "Defenestration", it means "to throw someone from a window in order to affect grievious bodily harm." It's a Czech tradition. The "First Defenestration of Prague" took place in 1419 when Catholics trying to recatholocize Hussites were tossed from the Prague City Hall tower, onto the pikes of soldiers below, contrary to the 1618 redux, where they fell, literally, into an enormous pile of Horse %#$@. Other than their dignity they were uninjured.
The third defenestration of Prague took place in 1948, when the communists killed Jan Masaryk. So this is a long standing thing. I joke a lot, it's true, but the above story of the Defenestrations of Prague is 100% factually correct. They even have titles.
So, back to Wallenstein, who had developed a new technique of warfare. Prior to Wallenstein, generals sacked enemy towns and carted off their stuff to pay their soldiers and fund the war effort. Pretty Standard stuff. But Wallenstein was an innovator. He thought it was unfair that only one side, the enemy, should pay for the war. So he sacked friendly towns too. The main differences being that, after he was through he didn't burn the friendly (although probably not as friendly as it once was) town, and that he called it "war taxes" instead of plunder. But he still departed with all your goats, the family silver, and likely your daughter's virtue; leaving behind only the satisfaction of having helped the catholic cause, an empty stomach, and syphilis. Because he took everybody's stuff instead of just the enemies stuff, he became twice as successful and twice as powerful as any other General, and ended up owning most of Bohemia. Including Cheb.
Emperor Ferdinand, Wallentein's Boss, decided that Old Albrecth's gang was a little too rich and a little too scary, and made plans to have him whacked.
So two guys, a Czech and an Englishman (so say the official sources, local people swear the second guy was Irish and I'm inclined to believe them) sneak into Wallenstein's room at the Spalicek (pictured above) in order to kill him. They just can't agree on how.
The Czech, of course, is all for tossing him out the window. Naturally, that's the Czech thing to do. The other guy wants to stab him with a giant Halberd. (See, I told you he was Irish). So they compromise. They stab him, and then throw him out the window.
Pre-Digital photograph of the Assassination of Wallenstein.
Needless to say, nobody really missed him. Not even his soldiers.
I shall post Prague tomorrow my friends!
The pavement of the Town Square of Cheb. This was probably Wallenstein's last view of this mortal coil. Sic Semper Clunibus!
Cave ab homine unius libri
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PS. She may be the CFO and all, but what the heck possessed you to drive straight past Plzen!?!!!
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No TIME my brother. Fear not, I put a fierce dent into Prague's supply of Krusovice. Bet they don't have that in Australia.
Františkovy Lázně (Franzensbad)
Though I worked in Cheb, I actually lived in FL, which is all Light to Cheb's Darkness. It's the smallest of the three great Spa towns of Western Bohemia, the others being Karlsbad (Karlovy Vary) and Marienbad (Marianske Lazne).
All of the buildings are, bu regulation, the same size and color. It's very, very quiet and full of geezing germans who have come to take the waters. It's a nice place to walk through the park, or sip on a coffee. Just try not to fall asleep.
FL's Main Drag
The town's been arund since the 15ht century, but got its current facelift after it was sort of adopted by the Emporer Franz II in 1793. It's been famous ever since. The water smells kind of like eggs, but hey, Geriatric Germans can't be wrong, right?
The Town's one and only movie theater
Interestingly, this part of Bohemia was liberated by Americans rather than Russians during the Second World War.
My Grandfather's brother was with the Third Army, he may have been involved. Or maybe not. I like to think so. The monument, of course, was only erected after 1989. On the 6th of May the 16th Armored Division of Patton's Third Army liberated Pilsen. Shortly thereafter they withdrew, and left the city aand the country to the tender mercies of the Soviets.
A Few From Prague
I have to blaze, so I'll post a few that I dig from Prague itself.
I know, the borders all messed up. Yes. I know. I leave for Portugal tomorrow dude, I'm busy!
Kino Svetozor Shopping Arcade
Old Town Square- Tyn Church. I've shot this about 100 times, but the weather was awesome this trip.
Presidential Guards, keepin' it real since 1989.
Praguers are so sophisticated that even their grafitti is intellectual- this on'es for Dr. It. Can you identify the equation?
I have no idea, please don't even ask.
THANKS FOR SHARING!!! and making wish i was back there........
I simply love that clock! And the wall painting is excellent.
Duh, I am from Prague.
Secondly: blue sky in Prague (above Tyn) - I don't believe it!!
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It seems as if the Gods of media storage devices have turned their wrath upon me- perhaps I have not ritually burned enough of their favoured green paper offerings at the pilgrimage center of B&H; O GODS! I implore ye! Plague me no more with accidentally formatting cards, nor with failures of portable storage tanks! I repent of my evil ways, and promise to reform.
Anyway, I went to Portugal this week and my wolverine decided to die on me (it's a power supply problem). I can't really blame it- I did seriously mistreat it for a long, long time. It was, literally, taped together, and functioned for a year in that state.
Regardless, I lost about half my photos from the edge of Europe. At least I think so- I plan to buy a new wolverine at B&H when I return to the US in May. On a non-journeys side note, can I switch the hard drive from one to the other?
On, then, to the photos!
O Porto
This is Portugal's second biggest city, the only one where (according to its inhabitants) people actually work for a living, and the home of my catholically approved life partner and CFO. So I come here a lot. It is pronounced "ooo" "Portoo" and only English people spell it Oporto. "o" is like "the" in Portuguese so the city is named, literally, "The Port." It is also the home of Port Wine.
view of Porto from Gaia, across the Douro river
Porto is one of the oldest cities in Portugal. The romans called it Portus Calle, which means "beautiful port" and eventually formed the name of Portugal itself. Thank God, or my wife would be from Lisbonia, and that would be wierd.
Porto is a commercial city, being the center of the English Portuguese Wine-Wool trade for centuries. Thus it was built by its Bourgoisie class and looks quite different from most Portuguese cities as a result.
Avenida dos Aliados
The Main drag is called "Avenue of the Allies" meaning, not WWII, but the Napoleonic wars. Porto is called "Cidade Invicta" (unconqoured city) because of its resistance to the French. Apparently, the French were nasty to them.
The Ancient, Most Noble, Aways Loyal, and Invincible City of Porto. IN YOUR FACE LISBON!
One notices immediately that Porto has two modes of architecture. It consists of small houses built in the older terraced part of the city.
Old School buildings Near the Ribeira
As well as several roccocco churches and the like, it also has grand 19th century buildings, like those along Aliados. It looks quite different from Lisbon (not much of which is older than the 1750s) because of the earthquake/fire/tsunami combo and the fact that Porto is a more commerical city.
Porto's City Hall
I'll post more later today or tomorrow.
After the Aliados and the City hall we blazed over the the Clerigos tower (the highest church tower in Portugal) and climbed its 250 or so steps to the top.
Torre dos Clerigos seen over the rooftops of the city.
The tower is sort of the unofficial symbol of Porto. The views from it are great.
Square of the Patriotic Martyrs and the old Tribunal (now the Portuguese Photography Museum)
The Se neighborhood and the Se (cathedral) along the Douro
Near the Clerigos is the Livraria Lello, the greatest bookstore (appearance wise) in the World.
The owners are super chill about taking photos. Once I even set my tripod up in the main aisle. Please don't abuse this if you visit.
Lello Staircase
After Clergios you can walk downhill all the way to the Ribeira, the neighborhood that borders the river. Along the way are tons of great shops whith storefronts covered in glazed tiles.
or stop in at one of the many cafes in the city. On of my favorites used to be the Brasileira on the Sa da Bandeira square. It's been divided in two, and renamed, but what is left is still nice.
Befor you reach the river it's probably best to walk uphill as soon as you pass Aliados towards the Batalha neighbourhood. There is a great church there and you can get to the cathedral relatively easily.
Igreja da Batalha
The city cathedral is rather dark inside and Romanesque. It dates from the 11th century, with some Baroque additions inside.
Cathedral Square
Interior of the Se
Down to the river one can see the Ponte Dom Luis, built by a student of Gustav Eiffel and still one of the most recognizable symbols of the city.
Before you cross make sure to check out the Church of Sao Francisco. It was remodelled in 1745 and the Franciscan friars where so scandalized by its opulent roccoco that they haven't held a service their since, even though it's still officially a church. You aren't supposed to take photos, but its not well enforced. So be discrete.
Sounds like a lot of up hill walking and too many stairs but like your pictures and narrative with them.
Like someone else said, if you taught History rather than English, I'd have been held back a few years just to listen
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All Who Wander Are Not Lost
There's a lot of walking involved, but it is well worth it. Porto is a beautiful city for walking- large enough to have lots of things to do, but small enough to avoid getting lost. It's quite doable, so to speak.
Nicely done.
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This was a rather unusual subject for me to shoot. I like cars as much as the average guy (as long as they aren't German, those guys loooove cars, like, too much, if you know what I mean.) And I really know very little about drifting. I'm afraid I've missed all of the Fast and the Furious movei franchise. Wikipedia defines it thusly:
In other words, you try to move your car forwards, as sideways as possible, without actually turning it around or doing a donut, all the while emitting shrieking noises and lots of smoke from the tires.
The Hockenhiemer ring is a down on its luck ex-formula 1 venue, so they do all sorts of weird races,and (this is the cool bit) they let you wonder around the pits. If you like to photograph cars, it's a great place to do it.
So one of my students invited me to this event, and I decided to go.
Here are the pics. No orange Mesas, I'm afraid. JUST BLOOD AND IRON!!!
The Starting Line
Most of the folks who enter the drift challenge are vary enthusiastic amateurs, and there are a lot of modified vehicles. This is not, of course, an actual police car.
The challenge is sponsored by "tuning companies" so you can wonder around and check out their modifications, and their engines.
Drifting tears up tires badly, so the pit crews are super busy. The heat coming off the breaks is so intense that you can feel it several feet away.
Drifting done right
not so much
I'll post more later today.
Some of the cars, however, are right off the street and basically unmodified.
Others are most definitely not street vehicles.
It started to get a bit "ho-hum" until they sent multiple cars down the track at the same time. Keep in mind, these guys are travelling at about 60 miles an hour, and drifting is a sort of half-controlled out of control slide that's a fraction from being a spin out. So this is super dangerous. A lot more dangerous than it looks in the photos.
Two cars wasn't bad enough, eventually, the guys that were the best would pool up and go 3, 4, or 5 at a time. This all has to be perfectly choreographed.
At some point, a dude flew low over the stadium in a WWI era plane. I don't think it had anything to do with the race, just totally random.
Sorry about the poor quality of the shot. It was totally backlit, I was maxed out at 300mm, and it was off the cuff. Still, it's a cool plane.
There were other sorts of birds there as well.
Main Market Square, Krakow, Poland
Der Reichstag, Berlin, Deutschland
Das barocke Neue Palais, Potsdam, Deutschland
Meissen, Deautschland
Die Elbe, Dresden, Deutschland
Dresden, Deutschland
Dresden, Deutschland
Die Kunsthofpassage, Dresden, Deutschland
(although I hear its growing, and there are in fact two "series" now, that book big venues a few times a year).
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I walked across the bridge from the town I live in, Mannheim, to Ludwigshafen- home of the largest chemical facility in the world. Ludwigshafen/Mannheim is also the largest inland port in Europe. The Rhine here isn't wide, but it is deep, and fast.
On the Bridge between Baden-Wurtemberg and the Pfalz, over the Rhine
Neither Mannheim nor Ludwigshafen are "pretty" cities. The USAF pounded Ludwigshafen regularly in the mid 40's, reducing virtually everything to rubble. Given that Mannheim is literally 250 meters from the chemical site, and the area is often cloudy, it to was stripped of most of its pre-war buildings. Mannheim, however, is a nice place to live. Ludwigshafen is a bit of a dump, still.
The Mannheim (Baden) side of the Rhine, with container ship and Jesuitenkirche
Berliner Platz, LU
At some point in the 1960's the city fathers of Ludwigshafen decided that, it being the seat of BASF, the city should outstrip is cross river rival in every way. Thus they built an enormous train station, at one time the biggest in Germany. It was planned to take all the traffic away from Mannheim. Unfortunately one thing was overlooked. Mannheim was Mannheim, and Ludwigshafen is Ludwigshafen. Even today, the most important railway station in LU is LU-Mitte, the hauptbahnhof is a ghost town.
U-Bahn Station for an U-bahn line that was never built, under the Hauptbahnhof.
An outlier of the Big Ass Soap Factory, as seen from the Hauptbahnhof
Model train set inside the train station
This one was my favorite of the night- The bridge under which the Hauptbahnhof sits
The Saarland was once, along with the Ruhrgebiet, the industrial heart of Europe. It was here and in the Ruhr that the bulk of Germany's steel making industry (and therefore Europe's) resided. Sadly, most of the monstrous foundries and smelters of yesteryear are long gone.
A sort of exception to this is the Völklinger Hütte, or Völklingen Steelworks. The first load of molten steel was decanted into a waiting torpedo car in 1883, and the last unsealing of the blast furnace took place on July 4th, 1986. The Völklinger Hütte, which once employed 17,000 steelworkers, could no longer keep pace with its mechanized German or cheaper Asian competitors. It was the last of the great old school steelworks to go under, but unlike them it was not torn down. Along with the Zollverein in Essen, it was given UNESCO World Heritage Status and became part of the "European Route of Industrial Heritage." Youc an tour it and take photos, but they make you sign some silly "no commercial use contract" at the ticket office if they see you with your camera. So keep it out of sight until you're in the factory itself.
It has been described, and rightly so, as the "Cathedral of Industry."
The hochofen (Blast furnace) complex from below
Unloading level: Here the molten steel drained from the bottom of the blast furnace, through open channels in the ground, and into a spigot which fed a torpedo car.
"Burden Shed"- thousands of tons of slag and metal for reworking were stored here.
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Great tour, Ryan. Thanks!
Photos that don't suck / 365 / Film & Lomography
I was thinking about you guys the entire time I was walking around there. You would have loved that place. Not as cool as some of our earlier excursions together, but much easier access.
Anyway, it's only 90 minutes from my house, so the next time you guys are in Germany let me know. We'll raid the place. I need to go back anyway because noon is a terrible time to shoot this place- it needs early morning or late afternoon to bring out the blue in the sky and to glow up the rust.
Here's another one to whet your appetite.
Some friends of mine visited for a week, and since it was their first trip to Europe, they wanted to see as much as possible. So we sort of did the typical thing and visited 6 countries in 7 days. Granted, 2 of those countries were. respectively, lunch in Lichtenstein and in Luxembourg, both smaller than Brooklyn, and we drove for ten minute on the austrian shor of the Bodensee o the way from Germany to Switzerland. Still, 10 minutes or not, it counts! ONE MORE COUNTRY! Unfortunately all of these (except Switzerland) are in the EU, so no stamps for the old passports. The Swiss will disassemble their borders in November, so the guards can't really be bothered anymore.
This photo has nothing to do with the others, and is of poor quality. But, oh yes, that's no blimp my friend. That's a semi-rigid dirigible, or Zeppelin, flying close to the Friedrichshafen Zeppelin works.
Anyway, here are some photos from the Swiss bit of our expedition. The driving was super hairy (at one point the GPS told us it would take 2 and 1/2 hours to go the next 18 miles. Actually, it was longer than that. Tunnels everywhere, including one that dropped us about 200 meters by "corkscrewing" 5 times, basically a tunnel that went in at the top of a cliff, and out of the bottom. Crazy.
INTERLAKEN & THE EIGER
Interlaken's main street in the morning
Shooting here is a pain. The mountains are so steep. In twenty miles the elevation rises from 650 feet (Verbania, Italy) to over 13,000 feet (the peak of the Eiger). Consequently sunrise and sunset cast huge shadows. Shooting time for very good light is very limited.
Chalet above Klein Scheidegg with the peak of the Eiger behind.
Obligatory Cow Shot. Yes, they do in fact wear those bells.
Do I sense complaining-like tone about the "corkscrewing" and 2.5 hours for 18 miles?! There's no motorcyclist in you, is there?
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No way! The driving (or rather riding, I don't have a European driver's license) was great. It was a bit of a drag that we were on a tight schedule- I would have prefered to hang out in Klein Scheidegg and wait for the mountains to be a little better lit. But my friends didn't visit in order to indulge my photographic inclinations. (To be fair, I only live three hours from there, so I can go back).
As to motorcycles, as a kid I ended up in the hospital 5 times due to bike accidents. Riding around on a motorized two wheel vehicle probably isn't such a good idea for me.
Took the train up to Flanders this weekend to check out Art Deco Antwerp and Medieval Ghent, both lovely cities.
Still life with Boat, Ghent
Handelshaven, Ghent
Ghent
Flemish Gold: Textile Loom, Ghent
Flower Seller, Ghent
Antwerp
KBC Tower
Lion by the Scheldt
Scheldt River and Port
My grandmother was born in Dinkelsburl. I have never seen pictures of it.
Photos that don't suck / 365 / Film & Lomography