ATLAS 04

ATLAS

THE WORLD IN MOTION: THE GEBRÜDER WEISS MAGAZINE

Tradition RAINER GROOTHUIS

Yesteryear in Marienbad HEIDI SENGER-WEISS

Making intuition pay WLADA KOLOSOWA

‘There’s nowhere you can sleep better’

HARALD MARTENSTEIN

Lots going on in between RÜDIGER SAFRANSKI

Defying convention Plus: Straits & narrows, the wayfaring walz and containing the world

ISSUE 04

‘ One minute I was an ordinary 22-year-old girl from Walthamstow in north-east London, the next I was living a five-star lifestyle and travelling the world for free, mingling with royalty and celebrities.’

Betty Riegel

Back when a flight attendant was officially called a stewardess, the profession was reserved for an exclusive circle of young ladies. When Lufthansa founded its stewardess academy in 1955, in addition to the expected rules of etiquette and first aid, the syllabus also included lessons on how to gracefully glide down the aisles in high heels. The invariably slender and impeccably coiffed women in their elegant outfits orbited the world, catering and waitering to those who could afford it in the middle of the last century. Notwithstanding the occasional touch of glamour, today the cabin crew is responsible mainly for safety. And both men and women can deliver that.

‘Life

is a journey that’s homeward bound.’

Herman Melville

Herman Melville should know: he was a green hand, a first mate and a common sailor on post boats, whalers and merchant freighters that sailed the oceans. Melville jumped ship due to intolerable conditions on board, spent several weeks in jail on a South Sea island, took part in a mutiny, became a novelist and then, in old age, returned to the port as a customs inspector. The seemingly endless hours spent on a seemingly endless sea will certainly have left their mark, which is why the bond that ties sailors to the sea is so very special.

To this day young men are still sailing off into the sunset, albeit without a sweetheart waiting in every port.

4 ATLAS

‘I only know the stations. But I know them well.’

Polina Konowalowa

Whether it’s the Orient Express, the Glacier Express or the Trans-Siberian, the Tren a las Nubes in Argentina, the Rocky Mountaineer in the US or the Royal Scotsman in Scotland: Every corner of the globe has a train with a charismatic name, and many are the stuff of legends. But what to some is a comfortable mode of travel is for others simply a workplace. Ideally, conductors are endlessly patient and wise judges of human nature, equipped not only to check tickets, but also to deal calmly with travellers’ wishes and needs. The fact that the world outside is constantly changing may partially compensate for the largely repetitive work routines. For more on life inside and outside the Trans-Siberian Railway, disembark on page 56.

Originally from the Punjab, Jagtar Singh embarked on a tour of Europe in 1992. The Indian felt so at home in Austria that he has stayed there to this day. For 15 years now he has worked at GW in Maria Lanzendorf as a chauffeur and truck driver, charming his colleagues with good cheer and a positive outlook. When his day is done, he gladly turns to chauffeuring his seven children.

A

s John Donne rightly said, ‘No man is an island.’

People are embedded not only in a geograph­

ical location but in a historical context as well.

They inhabit a world formed by customs and narra­ tives that can serve as sources of inspiration and ­enrichment.

Our main feature captures what the historic town of Marienbad has made of its heritage. The articles on container shipping and the world’s largest model railway illustrate the ongoing technological ­evolution of modern society. On the other hand, there is sometimes good reason to preserve the past, as the piece on apprentices shows. But challenging convention and breaking new ground can also be liberating, as detailed in our interview with Rüdiger Safranski about Goethe, the greatest poet ever to grace the German language. Whether we prefer to preserve, modernise or overcome them, each of us has a unique treasure trove of traditions that shapes every single day of our lives.

Best wishes, Gebrüder Weiss

SUSTAINABLE

MEASURED

FLOWN

Percentage of greenhouse gases generated by shipping in the EU :

Total Panama Canal tonnes (2.8 cubic meters) shipped during fiscal 2013/2014:

World Air Cargo Forecast: Due to rise over the next 20 years at an annual rate of:

4%

Source: EU Commission

326.8 million

Source: dpa

4.7 %

Source: Austrian Transport Newspaper

LOADED

DELIVERED

Still the world’s largest seaport, Shanghai transshipped 33.6 million TEU in 2013. This translates into a fully laden ship from the ‘MSC Oscar’ class calling at port 1,748 times – or 4.7 full loads per day.

Air freight tonnage at GW in 2014 totalled:

Sea freight transported by GW 2014:

49,500 t

131,000 TEU

ON THE MOVE AROUND THE WORLD

ON THE UP I

The world’s five largest shipping companies, based on numbers of ships

In Switzerland the Hammetschwand Lift takes its passengers up the Bürgenstock mountain. Built in 1905, it is nearly as high as Cologne Cathedral:

APM Maersk, Copenhagen

605

MSC , Geneva

497

CMA CGM , Marseilles

447

Evergreen, Taipei

197

5 Hapag Lloyd, Hamburg

152.8 metres

186

ON THE UP II

The Elevador de Santa Justa was built in 1902 and connects two of Lisbon’s districts at different elevations.

It is the same height as the ferris wheel at the Prater amusement park in Vienna:

TRADED

In 2013, the key trade routes were used to transport goods valued at billions of US dollars:

491

••••••• • • • • • • •• • ••

237

Germany

225

•••••South Korea

China

••

•

•

•

••

••••••

••

••

•

•

Japan •

279

•••••••••••• • • • •••••• • • • ••• • • • • 200

45 m

•

•

USA

France

PULLED

San Francisco’s cable cars began operation in 1873. Today four engines power the cable, ensuring a steady speed of:

POPUL AR

Careers in logistics are becoming increasingly attractive to young people. Based on the number of apprenticeships in Austria, these are the top five positions:

Source: Handelsblatt

1.

Specialist in warehouse logistics

2.

Specialist stockkeeper

3.

Merchant for shipping and logistics services

4. Professional

truck drivers

5. Specialists for

messenger, express and postal services

15.3 k

m/ h

The world in motion: RAINER GROOTHUIS 10

Yesteryear in Marienbad

20

Czech tech et cetera ANDREAS BERNARD

20

The hidden allure of storeys

22

Update

23

27

48

Words on the walz – a reporter on the move HARALD MARTENSTEIN

49

Lots going on in between FAMILY FUN

50

Cherished traditions

The box that changed the world

52

Matterhorn ahoy!

HEIDI SENGER-WEISS

55

On the trail of history

Making intuition pay

TILL HEIN

WLADA KOLOSOWA FLORIAN AIGNER 34

Forget it!

RÜDIGER SAFRANSKI

37

Defying convention

56

60

64

JESSICA SCHOBER 44

The walz – tradition on the road

‘There’s nowhere you can sleep better.’

Cause for celebration The whole world in a nutshell

70

Orange network

72

Imprint

The colonnades, restored to their pristine beauty, mirrored in the drinking hall.

Yesteryear in Marienbad Leave me here now, my life’s companions true!

Leave me alone on rock, in moor and heath; But courage! open lies the world to you, The glorious heavens above, the earth beneath; Observe, investigate, with searching eyes, And nature will disclose her mysteries.

To me is all, I to myself am lost, Who the immortals’ favourite erst was thought; They, tempting, sent Pandoras to my cost, So rich in wealth, with danger far more fraught; They urged me to those lips, with rapture crowned, Deserted me, and hurled me to the ground.

E X CER P T F R OM J OH A NN W OL F GA N G VO N GO E T HE ’S »MARIENB AD EL EGY« , SE P TE MBER 1823

One of the many renovated facades recalling the grandeur of the bygone times: the Grandhotel Pacifik.

YESTERYEAR IN MARIENBAD 13

‘The average gives the world its durability.

The unusual its value.’

OS CA R WI LDE

REPORTAGE: Rainer Groothuis

I

n the early morning hours, when everything is even more peaceful and dream-like than usual in the park at the heart of this spa resort, you can hear and see them: those ladies and gentlemen from a golden age. The women in near-fulllength gowns, never without a handbag; the men touting their best suits and toting walking sticks – people with fashionable hats taking the air, strolling, chatting, flirting, gossiping, talking tête-à-tête. The sound of their murmuring voices fills the park and the orchestra plays waltzes, The Moldau by Smetana, perchance a nocturne when night falls; one partakes of an evening dinner in company, one pays a visit to the casino – yet one still retires early: this is, after all, a health resort and its liaisons are destined to be short-lived. The nightlife tends to play out behind closed doors, in the hotels and boarding houses.

Goethe wept here in 1823 after Ulrike von Levetzow, 55 years his junior, rejected the marriage proposal of the 72-yearold privy councillor – ‘keine Liebschaft war es nicht’– it was not not a romance – she wrote later, and never married. Driven perhaps by despair, Goethe completed Faust and gave the world one of its most beautiful poems of unrequited love, the Marienbad Eleg y. Then he made his peace with the concept of ‘love’.

In 1836 Chopin mourned Maria Wodzińska, whose parents refused to entrust her to the tuberculosis-ridden musician.

In 1891 Mark Twain penned his praises on his travels through Europe: ‘Marienbad – the brightest and newest looking town on the continent, and as pretty as anybody could require.’ In 1902 Isadora Duncan danced in the city theatre. In 1916 Kafka sought to rekindle the flame with Felice Bauer in the spa park; Albert Schweitzer played the piano here in public in 1923. In Marienbad’s heyday during the belle époque, they formed a never-ending procession through the opulent hotels: emperors, kings, aristocracy of every rank and file, authors, scientists;

the famous and the infamous, the charlatans and the chic crowd from around the world. They strolled through the park, up and down the avenues and along the nearby forest paths; at concerts they exchanged whispered gossip about this and that and him and her. Sojourning at Marienbad was a status symbol for Europe’s enlightened elite – the titled and the entitled. The place to see and be seen.

‘Marienbad: a famous bathing resort in the Bohemian district of Tepl … comprised of clean, tastefully built houses surrounded by gardens, landscaped flower beds and well-tended lawns.’

M EY ER S K O N VER S ATI O N S LEX I K O N , 1 8 7 7

Marienbad, Mariánské Lázně in Czech, was officially recognized as a health resort in 1808 and began operating as a spa in 1815. Within the space of a century it underwent a lightningfast evolution from a handful of houses on drained and reclaimed moorland to become one of the world’s most popular spa resorts: ‘the happy princess from the fairy tales’, as it was described by the Czech poet and journalist Jan Neruda. The railroad arrived in 1872 to link the town with Carlsbad and Prague; in 1893 some 16,000 visitors were tallied. The English monarch King Edward VII took the waters here for the first time in 1897 and was delighted. This had a magnetic effect: in 1904, 25,000 guests flocked to Marienbad. The number rose – interrupted by World War I – to peak at 41,000 in 1929.

Meanwhile, the world kept turning. The sinking of the Titanic marked the first tremor in the unshakable optimism of the belle époque in 1912, the first of August 1914 the second.

The cataclysm of the First World War finally closed out an age that was devoted to celebrating the cult of blissful ignorance.

Imperial Europe was a thing of the past by 1918; new nations were taking shape, modern democracies emerging. The so-called ‘imperial and royal’ monarchy of Austria-Hungary fell apart and Czechoslovakia was founded on 28 October 1918.

14 YESTERYEAR IN MARIENBAD

Some properties have not found new owners and investors to rescue them.

Many Marienbad residents mourn the decline of the former Hotel Weimar; opposite: the Roman bath in the Novo Lazne.

The gradual recovery of Marienbad during the Roaring Twenties was halted by the rise of National Socialism in Germany. As early as August 1933, the German-Jewish philosopher Theodor Lessing was murdered here by the Nazis; the division of Czechoslovakia by Nazi Germany in August 1938 rendered Bohemia part of the ‘Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia’.

During the Kristallnacht, the ‘Night of Broken Glass’ in November 1938, the synagogues in Marienbad were burned to the ground by the Nazis as well. The Jewish inhabitants fled the city – along with Czechs whose lives were in danger. During the war Marienbad was designated a base for wounded military and thus spared much of the destruction wreaked elsewhere.

Following its liberation by US troops and the subsequent handover to the Red Army, the country – like Hungary and

Poland – became a ‘sister nation’ to the Soviet Union. In 1946 the hotels and spa facilities were placed under state control, and many were taken over by the Union Association of Czechoslovakia. But the new gardeners plucked many of the flowering plants instead of the weeds: operating at full capacity but lacking the investment required to maintain the existing structures, an economic and ecological disaster followed.

The West was already caught up in the globalization process when the Iron Curtain was finally lifted in 1989/90.

The former member states of the Eastern Bloc’s ‘Council for Mutual Economic Assistance’ were drawn into the fray of privatization and profit orientation. Much of what had previ* Comecon = ‘Council for Mutual Economic Assistance’.

Comecon comprised the former Soviet Union and those western and south-west European neighbours that the USSR viewed as a bulwark against the NATO states.

CZECH REPUBLIC The Czech Republic was founded in 1993 after Czechoslovakia was dissolved. Comprised of the historical territories of Bohemia (Čechy), Moravia (Morava) and Czech Silesia (Slezsko), the country has been a member of the EU since 2004.

CAPITAL

Prague POPULATION

10,521,600

POLAND

DENSIT Y Carlsbad Marienbad

134 inhabitants per km2

Prague

AREA

78,866 km2 Brno GERMANY

SLOVAKIA AUSTRIA

FORM OF GOVERNMENT

parliamentary republic

KÄSE FÜR BERLIN 15

16 YESTERYEAR IN MARIENBAD

ously been managed by the state or its various proxies could not be privatized in Marienbad either. Even today, exquisite architectural jewels from the city’s golden age are slowly disintegrating. Once the best hotel in town and the preferred accommodation of Goethe and King Edward VII , Palais Klebelsberg is among them. The former Hotel Weimar, renamed Kavkaz (Caucasus) after nationalization, shows little of the lustre of its former grandeur. Sadly neglected yet stubbornly hoping for the prince’s wakening kiss, it still waits for a redeemer to invest in its salvation.

Marienbad has remained a legend of elegant spa culture, a combination of ‘magnificent lodgings, friendly hosts, good international company, pretty maidens, music lovers, pleasant evening diversions, delicious dining, important acquaintances both found and refound, and a lighthearted atmosphere,’ as Goethe is reported to have said. All naturally paired with lots of healthy exercise and a suitable liquid diet.

Drinking, i. e. drinking the healing waters, still plays a significant role here, as it does in the spa resorts of Carlsbad and Franzensbad. Some 100 mineral springs bubble away in Marienbad; seven of these are available in the drinking hall.

Spa visitors and the locals pour inside to fill their spa cups and bottles with the prescribed liquid medicine – as a cure for allergies, osteoporosis, ailments of the digestive and urinary tracts, metabolic disorders, respiratory diseases, you name it – and they all imbibe the water in short, staccato sips. The spring water is also used for mineral baths and inhaling, and is said to have worked a miracle or two.

The lovely nymph Pegaea, daughter of Zeus and guardian of the medicinal springs, is also the patron of the redesigned spa mug dubbed La Fontaine. Anyone holding himself in high esteem drinks from one.

The special wafers are but one of the traditions fostered here; as in the old days mineral water is sipped in the drinking hall too.

18 YESTERYEAR IN MARIENBAD

‘It is an architectonic masterpiece.

A city in a park, a park in a city. A city of healing mineral springs. A spa visited and admired by kings and emperors, famous artists, musicians and scholars.’ INTRODUCTION TO T H E O F F ICIAL MARIE NBAD H OME PAGE 2015

‘Pomalu: Take it easy. That’s the Czech creed; for them, keeping relaxed is the main thing,’ the travel guides says. But the country’s entrepreneurial dynamism undermines this description of a laissez-faire national character. After Slovakia became independent in 1993, the Czech Republic evolved into one of the most successful economies in the former Eastern Bloc.

Even before World War II , the Czech economy was one of the strongest in Europe. Its traditional industries – iron, steel, coal, mechanical engineering, glass, porcelain, textiles, wood, paper, cellulose and beer – anchored the country’s prosperity.

Today the traditional production of glass and porcelain no longer figures into the equation – but car manufacturer Skoda has more than taken its place as a major factor.

The country’s drive is also reflected in the success of Gebrüder Weiss. From humble beginnings in the early 1990s, today a network of nine branches has sprouted; in summer 2015 a new extension will commence operation in Brünn on some 33,000 square meters – in ‘an ultra-modern logistics warehouse built in compliance with TAPA safety criteria and equipped with a tracking system that enables us to monitor the flow of goods even more efficiently,’ says Harald Prohaska, head of Czech GW operations, with pride.

One of the key customers is a David on the international scale and a domestic Goliath: Mall.cz is comfortably the market leader in online sales, having posted growth of 35 % in 2014.

Mall.cz offers some 77,000 products, and GW delivers these goods throughout the Czech Republic, Slovakia and Hungary within a mere 24 hours. In 2014, GW ’s Czech operations handled approximately 1.3 billion parcels – and the number is due to rise.

Growth in the Czech Republic is also predicted to rise in 2015, at a rate above the EU average, and more than 70% of company directors in Austria are anticipating further increases in sales. Optimism and initiative are powering the Czech economy which, incidentally, emerged from the financial crisis relatively unscathed.

Notwithstanding the Marienbad Eleg y, the annual Chopin festival held since 1960 and Alain Resnais’ film Last Year in Marienbad (shot at the spa park in 1961), attempts to revive the tradition of the elegant spa resort have proved in vain. The world’s rich and beautiful people head for different destinations today. That being said, less illustrious guests are now arriving in greater numbers – from Russia, the Ukraine, Moldavia, Germany, Austria and the Czech Republic itself. The local specialties of yeast pancakes, Bohemian smoked meat, pork roast with dumplings, and an Austrian version of frittatas have been flanked by kebab, chips and espresso. And the crooning and cooing of the world’s top pop hits now waft from the loudspeakers on shops lining the boulevard Hlavni.

Much of the Art Nouveau and Neo-Renaissance architecture has been bought up and painstakingly renovated by Russian, German and international investors. The steel construction of the colonnades dating from 1888/89 has been impressively restored, as have the ‘Grandhotel Pacifik’ and the ‘Nové Lázně’, the five-star establishment from 1896 housing an original Roman bath. The ‘Singing Fountain’ created by the architect Pavel Mikšík ‘performs’ its repertoire on a fixed schedule: Wednesday morning at 7:00 am, for instance, the Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves from Verdi’s ‘Nabucco’; Saturday at 9:00 pm the theme song from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Left: Goethe and Ulrike von Levetzow gaze down from their pedestal while the coach driver waits for new passengers; top: Past and present, Goethe and ‘reality future’.

by Ennio Morricone; and Thursday at noon Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No 1 in B minor, Opus 23.

Anna and Jiri, who I bump into at the Classic Café, are both attending university in Prague. They’re currently visiting their parents in Marienbad, but harbour no illusions about finding work here later: regrettably, their hometown has yet to develop a sustainable plan for the future beyond hoping that the tourist industry continues to grow.

‘Spa tourism is dying out – Marienbad needs to regain its past status as a centre for the arts and culture. The arts laid the foundations for Marienbad,’ says the city’s non-aligned mayor Vojtěch Franta, 29-years-young, who took office in November 2014 after campaigning for the Czech ‘Pirate Party’ and capturing 21% of the votes.

But as in the past, you can still ride in a horse-drawn carriage and listen to the coachman recount his tales of the old

days and the new in a wonderful German-Czech singsong; he is more than willing and basks in his role. If you wander along the ‘Goethova cesta’ path following in Goethe’s footsteps and gaze down upon the city, you will see more than a view revealing its bygone elegance. You will feel it in the air as well. And together with the splendour, the gold-plating, the melancholy, the history and the spa attractions, that feeling in the air defines a unique atmosphere of utmost tranquillity – and a sense of utter quietude that softly, ever so softly invites you to return to Marienbad.

Rainer Groothuis, born in 1959 in Emden / East Friesland, is managing partner at the communications agency ‘Groothuis’. www.groothuis.de

20 ET CETERA

Elevators and hotels

TEXT: Andreas Bernard

I

1 2 3 4

5

A small nation goes its own way Unlike in all the other countries whose languages use the Roman alphabet, in the Czech Republic the Internet giant Google isn’t the market leader in search engines. Instead, the local provider seznam.cz has claimed pride of place.

Seznam.cz was established in 1996 with the aim of gathering information available on the Internet for Czech users.

To ensure that search engine requests can function even in as complex a language as Czech, the company works together with linguists at the country’s universities. It also offers a free email service, a streaming portal, an array of news and information services and – since recently – even interactive maps (for cyclists). To maintain close contacts with its customers, seznam.cz. operates a network of 14 branches across the country. Google, by contrast, only has one – in Prague.

A similar strategy is being pursued by mall.cz, an online sales portal and GW customer. To date it has successfully stopped the retail giant Amazon from dominating the national market. To cement its position as market leader, the company from the Czech capital – like seznam.cz – focuses on customer satisfaction underpinned by a regional strategy. Goods ordered online by 2:00 pm can be collected personally from 4:00 pm in any of its many locations. The ‘over the counter’ contact helps to build trust, and saves customers their delivery fees and long waits for couriers.

According to a Czech proverb, ‘If it’s Czech, I like it.’ And that evidently applies here.

The hidden allure of upper storeys

E

Czech tech

n the late nineteenth century, hotels became the first buildings where lifts were mandatory. The most exclusive establishments advertised this new luxury to attract their customers.

As a result, these small, latter-day ‘space capsules’ – which combined interchangeability with isolation, intimacy with anonymity in both fascinating and occasionally constricting ways – soon became the crossroads of hotel life.

Some years ago the film Lost in Translation paid tribute to this constellation, with the elevator at the ‘Park Hyatt’ in Tokyo staging the first encounter between its two protagonists – from the initial eye contact in the crowded cubicle to the moment of parting as they alight at the ground-floor lobby.

Today, grand hotels are among the last remaining places where ‘liftboys’ still do duty. And even there, they serve only to enhance the establishments’ images – any child could select the right button. But until the early 20th century, lifts had been controlled using ropes, levers and hand-cranks. Professional lift-operators therefore needed to train

ET CETERA 21

for years, take courses and pass examinations. The potential this job still offered at the time is illustrated by the most illustrious elevator operator in German literature. Felix Krull, the hero of Thomas Mann’s novel Confessions of Felix Krull, is one of the last of the lift virtuosos. From the very outset he is consumed by a desire to perfect his mastery of the levers and electrical steering systems. The lift, he proclaims, ‘deserves to be treated with love and affection. I will not rest until the lift and floor are absolutely flush.’ As the novel progresses, we begin to understand the opportunities open to a liftboy around the turn of the last century. Krull owes the lucrative affair with Mme Houpflé to his talent. And this affair becomes the first milestone on his road to success as a confidence trickster.

Krull’s self-assurance and skills as a lift operator also mark a historical watershed. Set in the mid-1890s, the episode would no longer have been possible but a few years later. The invention of pushbuttons and the new, automated steering systems put an end to the liftboys’ control of the technology. From this point onwards the smoothness of the ride and precise alignment of the lifts with the floor were literally taken out of their hands.

But the elevator, this magical compartment, also had a pervasive influence on the spatial and architectural arrangements of hotels (and all other multistorey buildings that housed one). The fact was, this means of transport led to an inversion of their social structure. In the grand hotels of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the status of the rooms and their occupants declines as the floor number increases – right up to the bare garrets of the personnel under the roof. Joseph Roth’s 1924 novel Hotel

Savoy harks back to this constellation with the following words: ‘Those at the bottom of the pile were at the top, buried in airy graves, and these graves were stacked above the comfortable chambers of the sated who resided below in health, wealth and happiness.’ The undesirable reputation of the upper floors was undoubtedly down to the interminable staircases that had to be climbed to reach them. The elevator liberated the upper storeys from this stigma and invested them with a previously unknown mystique. At the same time it corrected a symbolic discrepancy that had survived into the twentieth century: the architectural hierarchy was in conflict with the social pecking order.

During the course of the last century, the ‘airy graves’ gradually vanished from hotel life. And following the introduction of the lift, the social pyramid was accurately mirrored in multi-storey buildings, a development that was clearly reflected in the room prices. In the Baedeker travel guides of the late nineteenth century, the relationship is still skewed: the 1883 edition describes the prices at a luxury Berlin hotel as follows: ‘between 2 and 2.5 Marks on the upper storeys and facing the inner courtyard, between 4 and 7 Marks on the ground and first floors’. Some thirty years later the situation began to change, initially in the tall hotels of New York and other

major US cities, and then in the European capitals. The bel étage as the glamorous heart of a hotel slowly disappears – to be replaced by the top-floor penthouse which has since spread its aura as the most exclusive domicile in multistorey buildings.

Just how entrenched its social and cultural status has become is graphically demonstrated in the movie Pretty Woman. The businessman Edward played by Richard Gere takes the prostitute Vivian (Julia Roberts) to his hotel in Beverly Hills for the first time, where he has – as usual – booked the penthouse suite. Vivian immediately heads out onto the spacious terrace and the following conversation ensues: ‘Wow, great view! I bet you can see all the way to the ocean from out here.’ Edward: ‘I’ll take your word for it. I don’t go out there.’ – ‘Why don’t you go out there?’ – ‘I’m afraid of heights.’

– ‘You are? So how come you rented a penthouse?’ – ‘It’s the best. I looked all around for penthouses on the first floor but can’t find one.’

The lift is the innovation in hotel history that made this dialogue possible.

Andreas Bernard, born in Munich in 1969, is a professor of Cultural Science at Leuphana University in Lüneburg. He also writes for the Frankfurter Allgemeine Sonntagszeitung newspaper.

His book The History of the Elevator. About a Mobile Place in Modern Society was published in German by Fischer.

22 NACHGELESEN

Update

Winners And the winners of the family competition in our ‘Passion’ issue are … tada! Madelaine and Robert from Romania have won a remote-controlled GW truck! A special prize has been awarded to the Rappelkiste Kirchfeld playgroup in Austria.

Each of the children designed a medal and, in the eyes of their childcarer Christine Schäfler, they’ve more than earned it: ‘These are very special children!’ The playgroup visited Gebrüder Weiss for a day. We send them our congratulations and wish everyone participating in this issue’s competition lots of luck! You’ll find the new challenge on page 50.

The ‘fifth mode of transport’ The Hyperloop developed by Elon Musk (PayPal, Tesla, Space X ) 18 months ago [as reported in our ‘Future’ issue of ATLAS] may well become reality soon. With the help of more than 100 leading engineers and designers, the startup company Hyperloop Transportation Technologies is moving full speed ahead to put Musk’s idea into practice. A second startup, financed by managers from the world of commerce, already has concrete plans for a Hyperloop test route between the Port of Los Angeles and Las Vegas. The future is now.

The Bridges of Istanbul In our first issue of ATLAS , we published a report on the Galata Bridge, Istanbul’s ‘floating boulevard’ on the Golden Horn. Since this bridge entered operation in 1856, the city has grown steadily. There are now two bridges spanning the Bosporus further north; a third is currently under construction.

The Yavuz Sultan Selim Bridge, a combination of suspension and cable-stayed engineering, will cross 1.5 km of water at the north end of the strait, and carry both an 8-lane motorway and a railway line. It is expected to open in October 2015.

RADSPORT 23

THE BOX THAT CHANGED THE WORLD The container revolution

24 THE BOX THAT CHANGED THE WORLD

TEXT: Imke Borchers

M

PHOTOS: Jakob Börner

alcom McLean, whose ‘Ideal-X’ became the first container ship in 1956, could never have imagined the impact it would have on the global economy.

Today images of the endless stacks of containers in the ports of Rotterdam, Singapore and Hamburg have become synonymous with logistics.

The idea of transporting goods in specially designed receptacles was hardly unknown in the middle of the last century.

However, the traditional norms and conventions of seafaring had hindered their acceptance. Back then the development of new cranes, standardised trucks and shipping containers

‘With his first container ship in the 1950s, McLean conveyed a mere 58 containers. Today some ships hold more than 19,000.’ seemed far too costly and time-consuming. And when Malcolm McLean found his haulage company waiting for cargo to be unloaded at a port one day, he decided to finally do something about it: to have freight packed in steel boxes that could be loaded and unloaded much more quickly than individual sacks or pallets. He promptly sold his company and bought a shipping line. Initially, nobody else believed in the benefits and profitability of container transport – there were too many reservations about the new-fangled ‘box ships’ and their ramifications for dockworkers’ jobs. For this reason McLean spent the first few years plying the US coastline. But after he had successfully kept American troops in Vietnam supplied, even his biggest detractors acknowledged the advantages brought by this type of freight transport.

During the 1970s the sturdy boxes were standardized and – given the ease of transporting them by land and sea – soon conquered the world’s seaports. Typical 20-foot containers weigh 2.4 tonnes and can accommodate ten times their own weight.

What’s more, they stand securely in stacks of up to eight. With his first container ship in the 1950s, McLean conveyed a mere 58 containers. Today some ships hold more than 19,000.

The China Shipping line’s ‘CSCL Globe’, currently the world’s longest container ship, measures 400 metres in length and some 58.6 metres wide; it can transport 19,000 twenty-foot

THE BOX THAT CHANGED THE WORLD 25

Dents and cracks are documented and repaired at the storage depots.

equivalent units or TEU ’s. That’s 224 fewer than the Mediterranean Shipping Company’s ‘MSC Oscar’. This series of vessels, three of which have been built to date, is 395.4 metres long and 59 metres wide, making it the global leader in freight capacity.

Today all of the world’s transportation and dock facilities are equipped to handle these standard dimensions, and able to quickly load or unload the approx. 15 million containers currently travelling roads, railway lines and oceans. But the maritime industry still needs to adapt to the gargantuan ships.

DIMENSIONS OF 20-FOOT CONTAINERS

CURIOUS FINDS FOLLOWING CONTAINER SHIP ACCIDENTS

L: 6.095 m, W: 2.352 m, H: 2.393 m Capacity: 33.2 m³ Weight: 21,740 / 28,230 kg

29,000 yellow plastic ducks, washed overboard in a container during 1992.

Life expectancy: approx. 12–13 years TEU = ‘Twenty-foot equivalent unit’ Over 30 million 20-foot containers and over 15 million 40-foot containers are currently in circulation around the world.

61,000 Nike trainers, lost during a severe storm in 1990.

5 million Lego pieces, tipped into the sea during a 1997 storm.

26 ATLAS

A refrigerated container being washed.

For example, those carrying more than 8,000 containers cannot pass through the Panama Canal at present, necessitating its broadening later this year. And more than a few ports struggle to handle the huge quantities of freight. Sometimes the containers cannot be forwarded quickly enough overland following their arrival on ships. As a result, the goods get delayed in the ports.

As robust as they are, the containers are not indestructible.

Moreover an estimated 10,000 are lost every year as the result of accidents – destined to spend the rest of their days drifting in the waves or lying at the bottom of the sea. Those that have reached their destination ports but cannot be refilled and dispatched immediately are held in storage and repair depots.

On arrival each is inspected and, as at a car rental company, an employee makes notes on its condition and marks any flaws on a diagram, such as damage to the exterior caused during storms or discharge. These scrapes and dents are then repaired by fitters and welders. And, of course, at the end of long jour-

neys the containers have to be cleaned and any unpleasant odours from animal skins etc. removed. An occasional coat of paint is also a must although, for financial reasons, this normally happens in Asia where the container revolution has spawned the world’s largest seaports.

Imke Borchers, born in 1982, is a literary scholar and a journalist at ATLAS.

ATLAS 27

Making intuition pay Heidi Senger-Weiss on roots and openness, instinct and reason

28 MAKING INTUITION PAY

INTERVIEW: Frank Haas

G

ebrüder Weiss is viewed as the worlds oldest transport company. Does this long tradition

make you proud?

Of course. It’s very unusual for one

generation after the other to follow in the footsteps of their predecessors, and to find professional fulfilment in the same challenge. And we haven’t just established a bond with our industry, but with our region too. In the 500 years since our company was established, we have only moved our headquarters by 30 km. We have developed our strengths in this region and grown roots here, but still remained open to the world beyond.

When you and your husband began managing the company’s operations in 1968, it marked a watershed. For the first time a woman had taken over the reins of this tradition-laden company, and that at a time when women still needed their husbands’ permission to open a bank account.

The issue with the bank account didn’t bother me as much, but I even needed my husband’s permission to include my own children, the children I bore, on my passport. That was how things were back then. If I had had a brother, my life

would have been very different. But I was my father’s only child and the last member of the family to bear his name. And there was no other shareholder who could have run the company as a general partnership. So they decided to try their luck with this young, 27-year-old girl.

How did the employees respond? Did they believe you could cope?

The employees were happy and grateful that I took over, because otherwise the company would have been sold to some big corporation. They also gave me their full support from day one, even if they didn’t always think I knew what I was doing. That’s understandable. I had no experience of the job whatsoever. My father died when he was 66 and the venerable Gebrüder Weiss management team was aged between 63 and 70 when my husband and I started out. The first thing we did was to bring in a new generation. And within three years, the management staff at the subsidiaries and branches were all between 40 and 45. That proved a real boon for Gebrüder Weiss (laughs).

What gave you the confidence to take such tough decisions?

It was born of necessity. And everybody understood that somebody aged 68 or 70 needed to hand over control of the

BRIEF COMPANY HISTORY

VOM GLÜCK ZU REISEN 29

Press conference at the opening of the first logistics hub in Hungary during the spring of 1990.

1474

1781

1788

1823

The Milanese Courier service, which was operated on behalf of the town of Lindau by the Spehler and Vis (Weiss) families in Fussach, becomes a regular institution after the old road is extended through the Via Mala Gorge.

The Milanese Courier Johann Kasimir Weiss becomes a partner at the Fussach trading post which is used for temporary storage and as a checkpoint for messengers.

Returning from his first journey to Italy, Germany’s greatest writer Johann Wolfgang von Goethe is transported safely to Fussach on 2 June by the Milanese Courier.

Together with his half-brothers, Josef Weiss, the sole owner of the trading post, continues to trade under a new name: Spedition Gebrüder Weiss.

30 MAKING INTUITION PAY

local offices to someone younger. Of course not everybody was happy, but we didn’t face major resistance from the old guard, partly because we always treated them fairly. The innovation push was important at that time, not least in areas like establishing direct truck routes on an international scale.

To what extent did your management style differ from your father’s?

Completely, I’d say. I joined the company at the end of 1965, two years before his death, and I know that he was already tired and worn out. He’d taken over the

helm in 1921, when he was just 19 years old. That was an incredibly difficult time and he mastered the challenges magnificently. After World War II, when we had hardly any capital left, he basically rebuilt everything from the ground up.

So the company we assumed control of already had solid foundations, and a network of branches that extended nearly throughout Austria. But he wouldn’t have wanted to start over yet again.

Did you have any other role models or modern theories that helped to guide you?

I’d tend to say it was instinct and the urge to do as well as humanly possible.

I may have studied international trade but all these theories of management were still really vague back then. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. I’d say that my strength lay in motivating colleagues. I could build good relationships with them and secure their commitment to the company. As a consequence, we didn’t have much fluctuation in our workforce. Instead we had a lot of enthusiastic team players. At the same time, I never thought of myself as being some kind of superior forwarding agent.

The people who learned the trade from the bottom up, they were all much better, and I was happy to accept that. I did different things. And, in my husband, I had a great partner whose skillset complemented mine really well. Together we usually ended up taking the right decisions. I would never have managed that alone.

Did this professional partnership ever put a strain on your home life?

Each of us had our own portfolio, something we were chiefly responsible for.

Both in the company and at home. And we substituted for each other if one of us was sidelined for some reason. During the first years I gave birth to three children, so my husband had to shoulder a lot of the burden. As a mother, you can’t look after your family alone if you are also running a company. So each of us always needed the other and we had mutual respect for each other.

Did you have to draw up new rules for keeping your personal and professional lives separate?

We always tried to avoid doing one thing when our children were present: discuss the company’s problems. Managers devote very little time to things that are

1872

until 1914

1921

1945

With the opening of the railway line from Lindau to Bludenz, the company headquarters is relocated from Fussach to Bregenz.

Initial expansion phase.

Gebrüder Weiss establishes branches across Central Europe – in Vienna, Trieste and Genoa, the German city of Lindau, and the Swiss towns of Buchs, St. Margrethen and Romanshorn.

Ferdinand Weiss takes the helm during the global recession. The company continues to expand.

GW makes a fresh start after World War II by transporting supplies for the population (charitable gifts) and industry (aid from the Marshall Plan).

In January 1962. Ferdinand Weiss celebrated his sixtieth birthday together with his daughter Heidi, his wife Gertrude and leading company representatives.

running well. They register a sense of satisfaction and then move on to something else. On the other hand, they are constantly pre-occupied with problems: ‘I lost another customer or partner … a competitor undercut me … an employee handed in his notice.’ And then they are surprised that the next generation says: ‘No, I don’t want to take over the company.’

What would your father say, if he were to return here for a day and see all the things that have happened?

Well, he’d certainly get a shock if he saw the new head office …

I suppose that – just like you – he would be a bit turned off by the green furniture, wouldn’t he?

(Laughs) That’s one example. We owe the colour orange to him. At the time, that was incredibly innovative. All of the other trucks were mouse-grey or black.

My father was the first person with the courage to paint the trucks a different colour.

But wasn’t that just a mistake at first?

It was the colour of the anti-rust paint.

Yes, it was the anti-rust paint on a truck that wasn’t really ready but needed to be used. When my father saw it, he said: ‘Super, you can see that from a mile off!

That’s the colour we’ll use for our trucks.’

To stop it from standing out too much, he initially retained the grey tarpaulins, and later they tried blue tarps. But the

truck itself always stayed orange. That would definitely make him happy, the fact that we still show our colours in orange.

from 1950 onwards

1968

1985

1989

Expansion phase in Austria.

Overland transport services launched in western Europe.

Heidegunde and Paul SengerWeiss assume management of the company.

113 years after its founding, the company moves its headquarters from Bregenz to the nearby town of Lauterach.

Gebrüder Weiss expands into the neighbouring Central and Eastern European countries.

The first branch in the Far East is established – in Shanghai.

32 MAKING INTUITION PAY

Heidegunde Senger-Weiss was born in Vienna on 20 May 1941. After finishing school in the town of Bregenz, she attended the Vienna Academy of International Trade. Following internships in Switzerland, the Netherlands and the US, she joined Gebrüder Weiss in Vienna as the assistant to the branch director. In 1968 she and Paul Senger-Weiss took over the reins at Gebrüder Weiss with its 1000 employees in Austria and a branch in Hamburg. In 1969 they both joined the Management Board.

They have three children: Wolfram (born in 1971), Elisabeth (1972) and Heinz (1974). In 2005 Heidi Senger-Weiss joined the Supervisory Board where she is currently chair. Her sons Wolfram and Heinz are now members of the Management Board.

Conversely, was there any event in

And what advice would the Mrs

the company’s history that you would

Senger-Weiss of today give to the

have liked to witness personally?

Certainly, there are a whole range of

Mrs Senger-Weiss of 1968?

To be honest: back then my health

things, for example in 1781 when my ancestor Johann Kasimir Weiss was invited to become a partner in the Fussach trading post, one of the companies that ultimately became part of Gebrüder Weiss as we know it today.

The brother of the owner had gone bankrupt following a bad investment and evidently needed some capital.

As a result, our family acquired a 50 per cent share, even at that early date.

The oldest son in the family, Josef Weiss, then married wisely and became the co-owner’s son-in-law. So the entire firm ended up in the Weiss family’s possession. Those must have been exciting times.

started to suffer. The responsibility I suddenly had to bear, it was all a bit too much for me. So I would have advised the Heidi Weiss from back then to take things easy. And to learn to accept that erring is human. The only important thing is that the sum of the errors is significantly less than the sum of the correct decisions. But when you are starting out from scratch, you get incredibly uptight about making mistakes.

And that takes its toll.

When taking decisions, did you generally follow logic or gut instinct?

I’m a woman. And most women are pretty keyed in to their emotions. When I have taken decisions I didn’t feel

comfortable with, they usually turned out to be wrong. But there are, of course, people who base all their decisions on reason and logic.

Your ancestors’ core business, the courier service running between Lindau and Milan, was gruelling and very dangerous. Was any code of conduct ever drawn up as a result?

Most certainly. Our values today derive straight from them. For example, our willingness to take risks. In October my husband and I hiked along the key section of the Milanese Courier route – from Thusis down to Isola. There are three gorges on this stretch: the Via Mala, the Roffla Gorge and the Cardinell. Not to mention the Splügen Pass at an elevation of 2,100 metres. We made it in three days. By contrast the Milanese Courier only needed two and

2000/2001

2003/2004

2005

2008/2009

Weiss-Röhlig opens branches in Singapore and Hong Kong.

A national subsidiary is established in Croatia. Acquisitions in Bulgaria and Romania allow Gebrüder Weiss to expand its operations from Basel all the way to Bucharest.

Weiss-Röhlig extends its footprint abroad to North America and Dubai. Gebrüder Weiss is now also actively operating in Serbia-Montenegro.

After managing the company for 36 years, Heidi and Paul SengerWeiss take up positions on the supervisory board. Wolfgang Niessner, the new CEO, Peter Kloiber and Wolfram and Heinz Senger-Weiss assume the helm.

By establishing a new national subsidiary in Bosnia and Herzegovina, GW closes a gap within the Balkan region. GW further expands its Air & Sea activities with strategic acquisitions.

Weiss-Röhlig opens offices in Japan and Thailand.

MAKING INTUITION PAY 33

With Heinz, Elisabeth and Wolfram in the Via Mala Gorge – one of the most hazardous sections of the route negotiated by the Milanese Courier.

a half. But we weren’t carrying a load.

We didn’t have to guide any mules, and we had wonderful weather. Back then, that job was considered extremely risky and it carried a great responsibility. The couriers had to pay high deposits to cover damage en route. They were fully responsible for their merchandise. If a mule slipped and its load fell into a ravine, they often climbed down to try and retrieve it. What’s more, they had to speak different languages, e.g. Swiss German and Italian; they had to be familiar with the customs procedures, and they needed to be skilled and know how to negotiate borders smoothly.

Those are all things that we still face today.

And despite the challenges, your ancestors always persuaded their offspring to take over the company.

What motivated people back then?

Partly the fact that it was simply a great job! The courier descends into Milan and enters a whole new world – coming from this small village of Fussach and arriving in the heart of a global capital!

Maybe he got to bring home oranges, or silk goods. And he could see and hear what was going on around the Mediterranean. Then he heads back and tells everyone about his exploits at the local inn. That’s incomparably more exciting than if you are running a farm and have the occasional newborn calf to report.

Nothing against rural life, but being a courier was something really exciting.

And this enthusiasm for ‘moving things’ proved infectious. The next generation started out as assistants, then became deputies, and finally they assumed responsibility themselves.

So, broadly speaking, the job was always a great adventure?

It really was an adventure. But above all our family is moved by the spirit of mobility. And for that you need to be open to other cultures. Being grounded and level-headed is fine, but a cart driver who was openly proud of his mobility, had to have a cosmopolitan outlook and be receptive to other influences and cultures, so that he could return home with them and say: ‘Listen here, I experienced something fantastic!’ If you are prepared to respect others and don’t always assume you are best in everything, you can pick up a lot of

positive ideas. But that again has nothing to do with tradition.

Actually, it does.

In any case, the feeling of having roots in a certain place is very important to me. Of knowing where I belong, where my home is. And that, in turn, allows me to be open and innovative as well.

Just take a look at the large, successful family companies in the Vorarlberg region. They have both: they have strong roots in the area, yet their reach extends all over the world. And that’s a gift that we have always possessed at Gebrüder Weiss. And hopefully it’s something that won’t ever change. I hope that we can remain attached to our roots while having the initiative to chart new territory. Of course, we won’t be trying experiments that are risky enough to jeopardise the whole company. But we need to remain courageous and accepting of new things. Even if we can’t be sure that every experiment will prove a success. | FH

2011

2012

2013

2015

In South America, the Air & Sea network is enlarged to include Argentina, Bolivia, Paraguay and Uruguay.

GW establishes a joint venture in Tbilisi, Georgia. GW continues to grow its presence in Southern Germany. Business operations get underway in Montenegro.

With the takeover of the shipping company Far Freight, Gebrüder Weiss extends its reach further into Central Asia.

The Gebrüder Weiss network now contains 150 locations in 27 countries. Approximately 6,000 employees help Gebrüder Weiss sustain its success.

34 ATLAS

Forget it!

Without our shared traditions, memories and sense of the past, we wouldn’t be the people we are today. But forgetting is also an important function of our brains.

ESSAY: Florian Aigner ILLUSTRATIONS: Mareike Engelke

T

he 1920’s journalist Solomon Shereshevsky was desperate. While memorizing complex number sequences and even reciting them perfectly years later was child’s play, he found forgetting them absolutely impossible.

No matter how hard he tried, he simply could not erase the useless data from his brain. On one occasion he even wrote the numbers on a piece of paper and subsequently burnt it. But despite the paper going up in smoke, the numbers remained etched into his memory.

Memorising things was second nature – and somewhat exasperating – to the Russian. But there are other people who have experienced partial or complete memory loss as a result of trauma or degenerative diseases. This can be an agonizing process for their loved ones. Because once someone’s memories have vanished, they cease to be the person they once were.

Imagine Paris without the Eiffel Tower or freshly baked baguettes. Vienna with no traditional coffee houses or classical music. Or Aunt Elsie without her anecdotes and the apple pie she bakes every Sunday. Whether we are contemplating society as a whole, the characteristics of a city or an individual we know – identity is always linked to a shared past, to recollections and to memory. Collective recollection establishes traditions that shape our society and culture. And as humans, we define ourselves by what we remember, what we would rather forget and what we would like to repeat.

The story of Clive Wearing is a remarkable example of how memory loss can wreak havoc on people’s lives. Once an

FORGET IT! 35

accomplished British musicologist and conductor, he led a choir in which his wife Deborah sang. But in 1985 he contracted a virus that attacked his central nervous system. The main damage was to the hippocampus, an area of the brain in the temporal lobe that converts information from short-term to long-term memory. Since then Wearing has been unable to recall past memories or form lasting new memories. For him there is no past and no future. He is plagued by the constant feeling of just having woken up. He tells his caregivers that he has finally regained consciousness and can think clearly again – only to repeat the same thing a few minutes later.

But not all of his memories have been destroyed. Despite having no idea who or where he is, or what his children’s names are, he longs for his wife when she is absent and greets her with a joyous hug when she enters the room – regardless of whether he last saw her months or minutes ago. Not all of Wearing’s musical skills have been erased either. His fingers still dance effortlessly around a piano keyboard, the music appearing to construct the temporal structure that his mind has lost.

Experiments on memory artists and people with memory disorders have helped scientists learn how our brains store and retain information. But the human powers of recollection are still far from an open book.

One thing we do know is that the wiring between our nerve cells plays a key role. When the continually changing neurons in our brains are activated, they transmit electrical signals to a range of connected nerve cells. Our thoughts are nothing more than well-timed electrical sparks within a specific group of neurons.

Cells that regularly interact with one another develop stronger links, making it easier for electrical activity in one to trigger activity in another. This creates stronger connections between cells, ultimately facilitating thought associations and skill learning. There is no central neuron that dictates what

information other cells need to store. The human memory is part of a neuronal network, an intricate system of countless connectors between individual cells.

From studying cases like Clive Wearing’s, we know that certain areas in the brain’s temporal lobes are vital to saving new sensory input to the long-term memory. Injuries to these temporal lobes can result in memory impairment. However, it is still unclear whether our biological make-up can create a particularly good memory. International memory artists use techniques that any of us could master to learn complex number sequences or the order of shuffled playing cards. An exceptionally well-developed brain is not a prerequisite.

‘It is still unclear whether our biological make-up can create a particularly good memory.’

On the whole, our brains are pretty poor at remembering dull, monotonous data. On the other hand, exciting, exhilarating and emotional stories are easily stored. The trick is to find a method of translating dry input into something the brain can absorb better. Associating individual people with the various playing cards and then creating a story where they appear in a specific order makes it much easier to memorise the deck.

A similar process probably occurred in the mind of the Russian Solomon Shereshevsky, who was unable to forget.

Shereshevsky was diagnosed with synaesthesia, a condition in which the different senses are inextricably linked. As an example, a synaesthete may hear a musical tone and simultaneously see a colour. A certain touch may trigger a taste.

Shereshevsky saw the number one as a proud, well-built man, whereas the number two was a high-spirited woman. He did not create these associations himself: his mind generated them automatically.

36 FORGET IT!

‘Our minds, including everything that we learn and retain, are what make us into the people we are.’

It was, however, far from an enviable aptitude. Shereshevsky felt overwhelmed by the profusion of information and was unable to differentiate between what was important and what was not. He had no understanding of metaphorical language; poetry remained a mystery to him. He longed to be rid of his memories, but unlike learning by heart, we cannot actively and consciously forget.

The American Jill Price also experiences her memory as a burden. She can recite precise details from every day of her life over a period of decades. But Price has reported that emotions and feelings also return with the same power and intensity, meaning she is still hounded by events that have long ceased to be relevant.

While we often curse our own poor memories, being able to forget is an important skill. Choosing what to store and what to delete helps us decide what matters and what doesn’t.

Our minds, including everything that we learn and retain, are what make us into the people we are. And the ability to change and adapt is one of life’s key skills. We need to be able to learn new things and forget what has become redundant.

The same may apply to our collective memory, our social conventions, our habits and our traditions. Just as our own memories are stored in a network of linked neurons, traditions survive within a network of connected people. With no recollection of the past, it is impossible to know where you come from. However, acquiring new knowledge, discarding the irrelevant and improving what’s already there is part of life. Managing constant change is the most important tradition of all.

Florian Aigner was born in 1979. He has a doctorate in quantum physics and works as a physicist promoting the public understanding of science in Vienna. Outside of journalism, he devotes his time to scientific reasoning and exposing esoteric myths.

ATLAS 37

Defying Convention

Rüdiger Safranski was born in 1945 and studied Philosophy, German Studies and History. He first made a name for himself with his biographies of E. T. A. Hoffmann, Arthur Schopenhauer and Martin Heidegger.

In January of 2002, he became the moderator of the ‘Philosophical Quartet’ on Second German Television (ZDF), together with Peter Sloterdijk. One of Germany’s leading thinkers, Rüdiger Safranski is a member of both the German Academy for Language and Poetry and the German PEN Club.

A conversation with RÜDIGER SAFRANSKI about Goethe’s experiences of the world and the role of convention.

Part 1: From Weimar into the World

INTERVIEW: Frank Haas

J

ohann Wolfgang von Goethe is very likely the most prominent customer in the long history of Gebrüder Weiss In his recent biography, Goethe.

Das Kunstwerk des Lebens (Goethe. The Art of Life), Safranski has not only illuminated the poet’s travels but his entire spectrum of interests and activities – and shown how the poet successfully turned his own life into a work of art.

When Goethe was returning from his trip to Italy in 1788, he linked up with the ‘Lindau Courier’ service which guided him across the Alps. In this way Goethe became part of the identity of Gebrüder Weiss. Can Goethe generally be described as a mobile person?

Yes, most certainly. Goethe liked travel-

ling, and he travelled a lot, far in excess of 10,000 kilometres. Given the modes

of transport available at the time, he was widely travelled. Amazingly, considering the bumpy coaches and bad roads, he was able to read while en route. Not only that, he could even write on the road. For example, he drafted the Marienbad Eleg y in the coach he had taken from Marienbad back to Weimar.

What was it that interested him about Italy at the time?

Italy was the Promised Land of art for Germany in those days – because of its paintings, because of its famous Mediterranean light, and also because of its supposedly less rigorous morals. Besides, Italy was the land of classical antiquity. Educated people in Germany were greatly in awe of the art, drama, and philosophers of antiquity. But he also had a personal reason: his father had been to Italy, and had written a book about it, a tame travelogue. And

38 DEFYING CONVENTION

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 28 August 1749 Goethe is born in Frankfurt 1765 –1771 Studies Law in Leipzig and Strasbourg 1773 His play Götz von Berlichingen earns him acclaim throughout Germany 1774 With The Sorrows of Young Werther, the young author’s fame spreads across Europe from 1775 Staatsrat in Weimar 1786 –1788 Italian journey 1788 Goethe meets Christiane Vulpius 1794 Beginning of the close friendship with Schiller 1795/96 Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship, novel 1806 Marries Christiane Vulpius 1808 Faust I. A Tragedy 1810 Theory of Colours. scientific treatise 1816 Death of Christiane Vulpius 1819 West-Eastern Divan – cycle of poems 1823 Trip to Marienbad; on the return journey, Goethe writes the famous Marienbad Elegy 22 March 1832 Goethe dies in Weimar

at a very young age little Goethe, who saw everything that his father had brought back with him from Italy, knew he would have to visit the country too.

He wanted to catch up with his father and achieve the same level, so to speak.

There’s actually a well-known book

by Kurt Eissler, a psychoanalyst and Freudian, who found yet another reason for this journey: he maintained that Goethe only became sexually potent after he had ‘caught up’ with the father in Italy. But that is pure speculation, and I don’t think much of it. I mention it only because the ruminations on why Goethe travelled to Italy have spawned some strange theories.

The journey to Italy as the fulfilment of a long-cherished dream?

That, too. Besides, Goethe embarked on this journey at a critical point in his life.

When he started out in 1786, he had risen to a high position in Weimar; he was a high-ranking court official, one of the Duke’s closest advisors. He was extremely busy with matters of state and was afraid that his poetic vein might

dry up. So he went to Italy to rediscover himself as an artist. It was really an existential journey, you might say, during which he wanted to answer the question: ‘Am I still an author, or am I a has-been author?’ He took a huge stack of manuscripts along with him so that he could get a lot of writing done and finally complete all the works he had started but left unfinished. So it wasn’t just a vacation, nor just an art tour, but a journey aimed at finding out whether he, as an author, could bring his works to completion.

A very modern concept, really: a sabbatical, as it were. And the Duke was even persuaded to continue paying his full salary in Italy, even though he wasn’t enthusiastic about Goethe’s trip. And Goethe not only stayed away much longer than originally agreed.

Upon his return, he even demanded a higher salary. Can we deduce from this that he had become very important to the court in Weimar?

Goethe took a considerable gamble. He hardly informed anyone of his plans, not even his mistress at the time, Frau von

DEFYING CONVENTION 39

Goethe visited and tended to his garden house on the River Ilm until shortly before his death.

Stein. He told the Duke at the last moment that he needed a vacation and wanted to head south. No more than that. And the Duke granted him leave.

Goethe travelled to Italy incognito so that he could not be summoned home.

And there was no doubt about his first port of call: he wanted to get to Rome.

From there he wrote to the Duke, pleading with him not to abandon him, even at the risk that the Duke might say: ‘That wasn’t the agreement we made.’

But Goethe was often fortunate in life, and his luck held here as well. How did the Duke react? At first he was angry.

But Goethe had found somebody to deputise for him before his departure, and this colleague, Voigt, was doing an excellent job – for Goethe was good as a civil servant but not irreplaceable.

The Duke appreciated that, too. And he realized that Goethe was not merely important to him as an official, but also as a companion and friend. So when Goethe returned after 18 or 19 months, his duties were halved and his salary doubled. In the interim, Goethe had

been able to reinvent – and moreover reassure – himself that he was still an author and not just a Geheimrat, a privy councillor. During this journey he had completed some of the works that had hitherto existed only as fragments. He had fallen in love and most likely also

world. He was always glad to get back home, though. Because he allowed himself regular break away, Weimar never became too claustrophobic for him. Reconciling competing needs was a life skill that Goethe had mastered.

Sedentariness and mobility. He wasn’t

‘Time and again he felt the lure of the outside world.

He was always glad to get back home, though.’ experienced a number of other erotic encounters; he had immersed himself in the stunning countryside and familiarised himself with the world of antiquity and numerous artists. In short, his wishes had been fulfilled.

It appears that Goethe retained a strong attachment to his first Italian journey for the rest of his life.

Wouldn’t it have been possible for a new dream to take its place?

Yes, it sustained him for a long time, but after that he took a succession of new trips. He never stayed put for too long in his provincial home of Weimar: time and again he felt the lure of the outside

merely mobile. He wasn’t merely sedentary. He was both – in alternation. We shouldn’t forget that travelling was real strain back then. But Goethe stood up to this challenge, even in old age: as late as 1824 he still travelled to Marienbad.

He was 75 then – veritably ancient for that time.

Even then Weimar was anything but a bustling metropolis. What other places could Goethe have imagined as a focal point for his life?

More than once he felt attracted by his native city of Frankfurt, and more than once he ultimately opted against it. The people of Frankfurt, of course, would

40 DEFYING CONVENTION

have loved to have him as a councillor of their impressive city. But Goethe did not want to retreat back into his own past.

Another city he liked very much was Leipzig, where he had been a student as a young man. A splendid city, relatively new at the time, a hub of intellectual activity – with a large annual book fair.

There were lots of attractions there.

And when he was in Italy, he had considered remaining in Rome. He himself was surprised that he always returned to Weimar. But in the end he preferred being the brightest star in a lesser firmament.

He was, nevertheless, viewed as acting in a manner not befitting his station by setting up home with the lowerclass Christiane Vulpius. He was never

view, and into the very centre of town.

And more than ten years were to pass before he officially married her.

Yet as a married couple they were never fully accepted at the heart of society. Christiane Vulpius was always shunned slightly.

Goethe loved Christiane Vulpius in full public view, but she never accompanied him at court. That was a lifestyle he could only assert for himself. But the correspondence between the two shows that she did not regard this as a problem. For one thing, she loved her Goethe; for another, she was fulfilled by everything he had given her. And conversely, she happened to be the perfect match for him as well. She was exactly what he had been searching for. She was his type –

‘But in the end he preferred being the brightest star in a lesser firmament.’ forgiven for this. He even had to move outside the city gates for a while. Why did he put up with that?

It would have been socially acceptable

for a privy councillor to keep this woman as a mistress. According to the moral code of the time, however, the fact that he moved in with her was the ultimate scandal – both within the court and society at large. I think it is impressive how Goethe stuck to his guns. He quietly accepted that vacating the rented house on Frauenplan in the heart of town was the price he had to pay. The Duke probably told him the equivalent of ‘I personally don’t have any objections, but we can’t have this it, my courtiers are all strictly opposed, it just won’t do. So pack your bags and off you go to the house outside town.’ That was actually a very attractive house, too, it just wasn’t situated as centrally. Then came the campaigns of 1792, where Goethe accompanied the Duke in the campaign against revolutionary France and became quite embroiled in the war – as an observer but nonetheless very much on the front line and in dangerous situations. The Duke was so grateful to him that he gifted him the house on Frauenplan. So Goethe moved back in with Christiane, in full public

worldly-wise, vivacious, pretty, erotic and devoted. From reading their letters one has the impression they were a happy couple, with each of them having a part to play. Yet Goethe did get annoyed at times, as in his friendship with Germany’s premier dramatist Friedrich Schiller … … who himself had married a woman from the aristocracy ... … and who Goethe expected to be more accepting of his Christiane. But Schiller behaved very conventionally in this respect. He all but ignored Christiane and remained very standoffish and reserved with her. Goethe was not pleased. He would have wanted him to take the initiative more. So Christiane’s integration into his world was not a great success. What did work well was the marriage itself and the relationship they had.

In Weimar this unexpected partnership even sparked an unusual cultural phenomenon. For example, Johanna Schopenhauer, the mother of the philosopher, opened her own literary salon and proved successful not least because she invited Christiane Vulpius along with Goethe …

She said: ‘If Goethe embraces this woman in his life, I can surely treat her to a cup of tea.’ And she invited her.

Bozen Trento Torbole

Vicenza

Malcesine MAILAND Piacenza

Verona

VENICE

Padua

Cento Ferrara

Parma Modena

BOLOGNA Loiano Giredo FLORENCE Civita Castellana Siena

Perugia Terni

ROME Velletri Fondi

NAPLES

PALERMO

Messina

Alcano

Taormina

Castelvetrano Sciacca

Catania Caltanisetta

Goethe’s first journey to Italy.

42 DEFYING CONVENTION

Christiane Vulpius and August, the son she had with Goethe, based on a drawing by Goethe.

Did that remain the exception – or can a general change in values be discerned over time?

Well, above all it took some getting used

to. Besides, Christiane was a bubbly, extremely vibrant woman, who forged her own circle of friends that was full of actors and other interesting people – you could speculate whether she was always faithful to Goethe. She wasn’t the type of woman who sat around waiting at home. No, she was sociable, alert, and didn’t want to be in Goethe’s shadow all the time. She had her own set, liked her drink and loved to dance.

We don’t need to grant her absolution or rehabilitate her in retrospect. She was quite capable of looking after things herself.

Was the Weimar of that age a good biotope for Goethe also because, while culturally attractive, it was of a manageable size and thus an ideal environment for a measured life, a life of moderation?

Moderation and structure were very important to him. Moderation was essential. Goethe hated uncontrolled growth and proliferation. And too much moderation was suffocating. He was constantly searching for stimuli – as long as there weren’t too many! A city like Berlin or Paris, where Napoleon would have rolled out the red carpet, would have been far too restless for him, too frenetic. And Weimar, though small, was by no means a backwater. Goethe saw to it that something cultural was always going on. But always in a way that allowed him to keep it under control.

He did not want to feel overwhelmed; he always wanted to maintain an equilibrium. He knew perfectly well that he sometimes had ideas when he was writing, and that he sometimes didn’t.

And if he didn’t make progress on something, he let it lie for a while, so as not to force anything, not to cramp up. He preferred to let things come in their own good time. He might work a little on his

Faust, then he might tend to his mineral collection, and then he might resume his scientific studies or return to his ministerial obligations. He always sought to arrange things in such a way that everything could function smoothly. Then, in the evening, after the day’s work was done, it was time for recreation and a visit to the theatre. This rhythm allowed him to maximise his energy. For Goethe was not only a man of action; he was also an expert in laissez-faire.

Don’t miss the next issue of ATLAS which contains Part Two of this conversation.

Frank Haas was born in 1977. He studied History and Philosophy and, as head of corporate communications at Gebrüder Weiss, is editor-inchief of ATLAS.

ATLAS 43

The Milanese Courier is back!

Four specially-issued stamps on the early ­history of Gebrüder Weiss

I

f letters are sent with the Milanese Courier today, that doesn’t mean they are delivered on horseback as they were 500 years ago. Nor that they cross Lake Constance by boat or negotiate hazardous Alpine passes on pack animals. In a joint project, the postal services of Switzerland, Germany, Austria and Liechten­ stein are commemorating the Milanese Courier – also known as the Lindau Courier and Fussach Courier on other parts of the route. Four stamps are being issued depicting the historic courier service between Lindau and Milan that ultimately evolved into Gebrüder Weiss.

44 ATLAS

The walz – tradition on the road TEXT: Jessica Schober PHOTOS: Chiara Dazi

G

erman journeymen have had itchy feet for centuries.

For a minimum of three years and a day, they take off to complete the vocational training for their respective trade. Dressed in their kluft, i. e. traditional garb, and armed with a hat and walking stick, they may seem to hail from a different era – but this is how they keep the tradition of the walz, the travelling apprentice, alive.

They are infrequent sights, but difficult to overlook. Wide, bell-bottom trousers, a hat and the stenz, a twisted walking staff, are the insignia of these travellers. To be on the walz, however, involves a lot more than wearing certain garb. The ancient tradition stands for a sense of freedom and a longing to take to the road. It denotes learning new things in one’s trade, vocation and life. And discovering the world through

travel. So it is no wonder that this mediaeval concept continues to fascinate young people to this day.

When the first journeymen set out, it was often dire need that drove them on their way, not just a spirit of adventure.

If you wanted to become a master of your trade, you had to embark upon a voyage of discovery. In the course of the 14th century, that became a fixed part of a tradesman’s life. Socalled schächte, the journeymen’s fraternities, were founded.

Other associations followed. Not only carpenters travel. So do bakers, tailors and bookbinders. For several decades now, women, too, have been on the road. The walz has often changed, yet at its heart it has remained the same: the tradition is robust and durable. As if in a time capsule, it has even survived periods of repression. During the Nazi regime, the journeymen’s travels took them underground – one of the many reasons why today’s journeymen guard their secrets so tenaciously.

TRADITION ON THE ROAD 45

The wheels of evolution turn slowly: women have been ‘doing the walz’ for several decades now.

Today there are an estimated 500 travelling journeymen and some 50 journeywomen. And their lives have changed.

For one thing, many now have Facebook accounts. But they carry neither cellphones nor laptops. And one rule still applies:

‘The walz has often changed, yet at its heart it has remained the same: the tradition is robust and durable.’ they may not spend any money on lodging or transportation.

Hitchhiking is the favoured method of travel: thumbs out, they place their faith in the road.

That’s what Hanna Anderer is doing as she stands by the slip road running to the autobahn. After leaving her hometown near Karlsruhe, the 24-year-old joiner dropped her surname

and began calling herself ‘Hanna the free-travelling cabinet maker’. That’s what her travel diary says, a thick grey binder, in which she keeps her testimonials and the seals of the towns she has visited. She has already travelled from the Baltic Sea to the Bavarian Alps – on foot, or hitchhiking.

Shlup, shlup, shlup is the sound Hanna makes as she walks in her brown corduroy trousers with their 80 cm flares. With every resolute footstep, the seams brush across her leather hiking boots. Sometimes she sings a song: ‘Here today, gone tomorrow’ – the classic hymn to the road. ‘If you sing the old song texts from our books, every verse resonates with the spirit of wanderlust from the days when they had horse-drawn carriages rather than cars,’ Hanna says.

Slung over her shoulder is a bundle containing the barest necessities. Called a ‘Charlottenburger’, it holds her sleeping bag, her tools and a change of clothes tied up together with printed cloth. A night shirt and two stauden, the collarless shirts of the journeymen, that’s all Hanna carries with her.

Her only luxury is a small portable radio. She tucks her reddish blond hair under her hat. Two mischievous blue eyes sparkle beneath the brim. ‘When I hit the road, I simply go where the wind takes me,’ she says. If a car stops on the hard shoulder, she gets in. There have been times during her travels when she lost track of the days of the week. ‘Whatever will be, will be.

We’re all born under a lucky star. We take each day as it comes and simply trust that everything will work out.’

As a trained cabinet maker, Hanna has also worked in a carpentry firm along the way – and learned how to cut rafters for roofs. And she has learned to forget about homesickness.

‘Tradition can also mean that you can’t spend Christmas at home with your family,’ Hanna says. Instead of spending the holidays with siblings and parents, she spent them with other wayfarers. For all of them are forbidden to enter the bannkreis, a thirty-mile radius of their respective home towns. Some journeymen, Hanna explains, even have something like bannkreis

46 TRADITION ON THE ROAD

‘And I wanted to see something of the world,’ Malte Simon says. So he journeyed to Thailand, Italy and Switzerland. His stonemasonry skills were praised in the English city of York.

‘Stone is cut quite differently there. Using a fine chisel with a serrated edge.’

He learned more during his wanderings than in any internship, the North German says. ‘You gladly put up with the strict rules for that.’ The walz is more than an extended professional training scheme for Malte Simon: it is an education of the heart, he says. Throughout his years of wandering, he has become more open and self-confident. ‘You have to drag yourself up, even on bad days. There is no Mum to help you,’ he says with a laugh. His bicep is adorned with a ‘Mum’ tattoo.

Wearing the kluft makes you stand out. Sometimes it gets annoying when people constantly ask him about it, Malte Simon admits. ‘But when you’re back home, you miss it.’ A jour-

A nail is used to pierce the hole for the traditional earring.

dreams’ at night, waking up in a sweat because they thought they had accidentally entered the forbidden zone.

Malte Simon, meanwhile, has finished his enforced exile.

The 27-year-old mason was on the road from 2009 to 2013.

But the lure of the road will not let him rest just yet. He lives in the city of Freiburg as a resident journeyman. His black neckerchief signifies his membership in the schacht of the Masons and Stonecutters. The piece of cloth that Malte had tied around his neck for three years has a name: ehrbarkeit which means ‘respectability’. It now hangs in his closet, but he still likes to put on his light-grey outfit and the blue jacket when attending the monthly journeymen’s meetings. ‘A journeyman marries and dies in his kluft,’ Malte Simon says. He takes the tradition seriously.

After completing his apprenticeship in a small North German firm, he wanted to learn more about restoring stone.

TRADITION ON THE ROAD 47

neyman carpenter from Westphalia told him about a saying he heard from one of his fellow wayfarers: ‘In the first year, the kluft casts a magic spell on you; in the second year you learn to perform magic with it yourself. And in the third year you understand: it’s the kluft that does the trick.’

‘The walz is an education of the heart.’

Every time a car stops at the roadside, or a passer-by calls out ‘Hey, journeyman,’ a new door opens. When hitchhiking, the wanderers occupy the nation’s passenger seats. Every ride is a new world, a cornucopia of novelty. Malte has raced through the country in a Porsche with a TV host, and with the biggest paper manufacturer in northern Germany. Hanna the cabinet maker has sat next to truck drivers and women who write erotic fiction. She has often had to tell herself again and again:

‘Yes, I really can’t go home for three years and a day.’ Often that provoked astonishment. But a new adventure was always waiting for her just around the next bend.

The walz is in constant flux. One generation passes, the journeymen say, and the culture and colloquialisms of the road change. Journeyman Malte Simon adds: ‘Once you have been back home for a few years, nobody on the road knows your name any more. Leaving no trail behind you takes some getting used to for stone masons. They are always looking to build something that lasts.’

Hanna, on the other hand, feels she is part of a long story. ‘It’s cool that a tradition like the walz can survive for such a long time. And that today we head out for the same reasons as the journeymen of 800 years ago: to see the world, to improve our skills, and to return as an adult.’

A BRIEF WALZ GLOSSARY

Ehrbarkeit. necktie whose colour indicates which schacht you belong to.

Schacht. Six schächte, such as the Free Vogtlanders of Germany or Roland’s Brethren, can be encountered on the road. Beside these, there are the free-travelling journeymen who aren’t registered with a schacht and do not wear an ehrbarkeit.

Kluft. Traditional garb, consisting of bell-bottom trousers, a waistcoat and jacket. In addition, journeymen wear a staude (collarless shirt) and hat, and carry a stenz.

Stenz. Twisted walking stick made of wood with a climbing plant, typically woodbine, entwined around it – giving it its spiral shape.

A saying among journeymen goes: ‘You don’t find a stenz, the stenz finds you.’

Bannkreis. thirty-mile radius around one’s home town. Journeymen may not enter this for three years and a day.

48 TRADITION ON THE ROAD

Words on the walz – a reporter on the move

O

ur author Jessica Schober hit the road in the summer of 2014. She went on a ‘word-walz’, visiting local newspapers throughout the country. She followed the rules of the traditional walz, dispensing with her cellphone and laptop. She hitchhiked, slept in the woods, under bridges and on colleagues’ couches.

In the course of her trip, she encountered numerous journeymen who shared insights into their world with her.

A blazing campfire, crackling branches. We sit in a circle, and I stare into the flames. It is a warm summer night in the vicinity of Lübeck, and a long workday on a construction site lies behind all of us. I am surrounded by people in kluft. They speak their own language, Rottwelsch, the ancient thieves’ slang or lingo, and have their own distinctive insignia. I, on the other hand, sit here in a blue-chequered shirt and marvel. I am a guest on the summer construction site of the free-travelling journeymen, a meeting of some 50 wayfarers who have committed themselves to a social project – a token of gratitude to the population for its support. This year the project is a playground for educationally challenged children.

I marvel that I am even permitted to sit here. I am not an artisan. I am a travelling reporter. And I am a ‘cow’s head’, as journeymen call travellers who are not subject to the rules of a zunft or guild. As a journalist, I have set out to discover the world of the walz. I travel from one local newspaper to the next, offering my services with the goal of learning more about my trade. Not all journeymen approve of the fact that I call my trip a ‘word-walz’ and blog about it. They protect and cultivate their traditions, and defend them. After all, these have only survived for centuries since the late Middle Ages because a small circle knew how to guard the secrets.

Even so, I experience something very special here: pleasant get-togethers, comradeship and friendship shared by people who are all de facto homeless. Not being allowed to go home for three years and a day is such a long time that most people can probably hardly imagine it. In the beginning I wanted to spend just three months and a day on my word-walz. But the journey went on. And in the end I learned to like the travelling – tippeln, as the journeymen call it –

so much that I started to forget what it was like to stay put somewhere.

I worked for lots of different local publications during my stints. The principle of my word-walz worked like a charm: I knocked on doors unannounced, asking for work. I found some place to stay, worked a week or two as a journalist and then moved on. I learned a great deal professionally during this time: about research facilities, editorial systems and working on local newspapers. But what impressed me most on this journey was the human aspect: how open and eager to help people proved to be – and how little you actually need to live.

Towards the end of my word-walz, I spent several weeks roaming the country with a woman joiner. Every day absurdly wonderful things happened. A woman came running toward us, shouting ‘Do you need any bread?’ We were invited to dinner and an overnight stay, were given a lift when hitchhiking on the autobahn, and received a beautiful piece of walnut wood as a gift. When we then walked down the highway together singing, I was glad to have joined this journey. I felt as if time had ceased to exist. Since then, every campfire has reminded me of my days with the wayfarers. And I fondly remember the insight that a journeywoman on a baker’s walz shared with me – one that surely applies to everything in life: the walz is what you make of it.

Jessica Schober works as a freelance journalist in Munich. She writes for magazines and newspapers, holds seminars and is also active as a speaker in political education. She studied Political Science, Sociology and Journalism and attended the highlyrespected German Journalism School. Read her travel blog at: www.wortwalz.de

49

I

have tried to research which countries position themselves in the tourism market as ‘between tradition and modernity’. After China, Switzerland, Japan, Ethiopia, India, Oman, Mongolia and Sri Lanka, I stopped counting. It is interesting, though, that even declared enemy states like Israel and Iran are nonetheless in perfect harmony when it comes to spanning ‘tradition and modernity’ – and apparently believe that this uncomfortable act of contortion, although by no means rare, represents an attraction to tourists.

I was also puzzled by an article in the magazine Focus maintaining that the Arctic was a region ‘between tradition and modernity’: I mean, who lives there? Very emphatically – and a good deal more credibly than the Arctic – the historic city of Weimar too has nailed an identity ‘between tradition and modernity’. The same, according to research conducted by the newspaper Die Welt, applies to Seoul in South Korea and, according to North German Radio, to the city of Braunschweig. Frankfurt. de informs readers that the city’s district of Kalbach-Riedberg straddles ‘tradition and modernity’. This makes KalbachRiedberg the Braunschweig of Frankfurt!

Not only towns and countries, but cultural phenomena and professions as well can find niches in that densely populated region between tradition and modernity. Apropos Frankfurt: according to the Frankfurter Neue Presse, the vocation of stonemasonry is located somewhere along the continuum. Other sources allege that the same applies to saddlers, family physicians, and women in Dubai.

Amazingly, even the relatively recent art form of the poetry slam is in close

Lots going on in between HARALD MARTENSTEIN

on a phrase that can mean almost anything

Harald Martenstein authors the column ‘Martenstein’ in Germany’s ZEITMagazin and is an editor at the Berlin-based newspaper Der Tagesspiegel. His most recent book is entitled Die neuen Leiden des Alten M.

pursuit, at least according to the rapper Sulaiman Masomi in his book on the subject. Is the space between tradition and modernity actually edible, despite – strictly speaking – being a vacuum?

Absolutely: on November 21 of last year Hessian Radio broadcast a TV program with the title: Cookies – Christmas goodies between tradition and modernity.

From an equal opportunities perspective, it should be emphasized that, despite the enormous crush, there is still enough room between tradition and modernity for both genders. According to the Bonn Generalanzeiger newspaper, Ina Harder, the front woman of the suburb of Beuel’s weiberfastnacht – the day during Mardi Gras when women call the tune – ‘is attempting to strike a balance or, as it were, do the splits between tradition and modernity’. Michael Nötzel, who ran for mayor of Neubrandenburg, has also performed this balancing act.

It’s quite a challenge, as mentioned – but he gets a lot of support from his family.

Small wonder that the twin poles are bookending the world of commerce too.

Companies bridging this gap, either self-proclaimed or epitheted as such by the business press, include Ray-Ban (eyewear), Leica (cameras) and Gaggenau (kitchens), not to forget Büttner Carpentry Services in Hartmannsdorf.

As a rule these companies perform the ‘splits’ as well although, God knows, there are certainly more comfortable positions to take during protracted negotiations. Speaking as a journalist, it’s my view that – all in all – this phrase has long passed its sell-by date, and the world would be a happier place if tradition, modernity and indeed everything between them were swiftly consigned to the past.

50 FAMILY FUN

Things we adopt and pass on

A

s strange as it may seem, we haven’t been around for most of our planet’s history. The majority of things that have happened have done so without our involvement; while we may have heard of them, we can’t actually remember anything. Because we didn’t experience them ourselves.

But lots of events occur repeatedly; they recur time and again in similar form. We mark the start of the new year, and celebrate birthdays and public holidays in set ways. That was the case long ago, and it is likely to hold true for the future.

The Olympic Games are held at regular intervals, as are World Cups and world championships. And even in

our everyday lives, there are things we do in the same or similar ways over the course of years and even decades.

Our days normally begin in the same manner and our bedtime routines rarely differ.

These things that resound in repetition form a common thread throughout our pasts, presents and futures.

We do things in the same way our grandparents did in their day, and develop habits that our children and even their children might one day adopt – long after we have disappeared from the face of the Earth. Isn’t that reassuring?

The he winners will be notified by post or e-mail, and will receive their prizes by the end of September eptember 2015. For legal reasons, we sincerely regret that Gebrüder Weiss employees are not permitted to enter. The he judges’ decision is final. Prizes cannot be exchanged for cash.

FAMILY FUN 51

3 × 3

Do you know anyone who is a lot older than you? Then talk to that person about the traditions he or she knows – the ones that you practice yourself, in one way or another. Many things are sure to have changed since this person was your age. But maybe not everything …

Send a photo of yourself with somebody much older to us by 31. 08. 2015: redaktion@gw-atlas.com or by snail mail: Gebrüder Weiss GmbH | Atlas Office Bundesstraße 110 | A-6923 Lauterach, Austria

We’re looking forward to receiving all the pictures.

With a little luck you can win one of three LEGO City packs featuring a truck and forklift.

52

Matterhorn ahoy!

For centuries visionaries have dreamt of a waterway over the Alps.

The latest idea runs underneath them.

TEXT: Till Hein

T

he sheer scale of the Alps is breathtaking. ‘The combined forces of Nature – raging storms, earthquakes and glacial collisions– cannot conjure up their power,’ US pastor George Cheever noted on a trip through Switzerland in the mid-19th century. Yet just decades later, Pietro Caminada felt confident of overcoming these forces of nature. By boat. His proposition: a waterway over the Alps.

Caminada was no romantic dreamer, but rather one of the leading engineers of his day. And he knew a thing or two about mountains. In 1862 he was born in Vrin, a village in the Swiss canton of Graubünden. To promote business and trade in this once deprived region he envisaged a canal stretching from the North Sea to the Mediterranean. But is a shipping route across the Alps technically feasible?

‘His technology is reminiscent of mountain water pipes.’

As early as the 15th century, universal genius Leonardo da Vinci explored techniques of channelling water to wherever farms required it – be it up hill or down dale, defying the laws of gravity. But not even he considered scaling hundred-metre-high rock faces as Caminada did in his 1907 plans for an Alpine canal along the Splügen Pass.

In the 17th century, Dutch merchants visualized linking the Rhine and Rhône rivers by constructing a canal through the Swiss highlands between the Alps and the Jura mountains. The idea was to create a shortcut to the Mediterranean, from where ships could continue their journey to India. This course was considered a much better option than the traditional Atlantic route where piracy was rife. However, it proved impossible to implement.

In fact, Pietro Caminada was not the first to contemplate a shipping canal over the Alps. Two hundred years earlier the Habsburg emperors had wanted to create a waterway between Vienna and Milan. The challenge lay in overcoming the steep slopes along the Maloja Pass in Switzerland. Horses on towpaths could only pull barges uphill for short stretches. Again, engineers were stumped.

But not Caminada. His technology is reminiscent of mountain water pipes winding their way from the main reservoir down slopes and hillsides to villages in the valley below. Caminada envisaged much larger versions of these pipes bridging a difference in elevation of almost a kilometre for ships that were up to 50 metres in length and carried loads of up to 500 tonnes. Each pipe was to be divided into hundreds of dual-

Caminada also built a model showing his idea on a scale of 1:10, as shown in this illustration.

chamber cylindrical locks. If a ship had to be lifted up the mountain, it entered the bottom lock and the gates closed.

Water was pumped in, where it collected at the lowest point – towards the stern of the ship. An increase in water pressure propelled the vessel forwards and therefore upwards until it reached the level of the next lock. This then became the next section of the canal and the process was repeated.

To utilise the water most effectively, two ships needed to be moved simultaneously – one uphill and one down. This is a basic principle of counterweight navigation. The water level in the left-hand channel of the lock fell, causing Ship A to descend, and the displaced water was pumped into the righthand chamber where it pushed Ship B through the locks – up to a height of 1,200 metres, where the Splügen Pass ridge is

just a few kilometres wide. At this point, Caminada planned to tunnel through the rock to allow the passage of ships between the northern and southern sides of the Alps.

54 MATTERHORN AHOY!

World War. And suddenly the ruling powers of Rome, who had shown such a keen interest in the project, turned their attention to military matters.

After the end of the war, Caminada continued to expand upon his design in Italy. In 1923 he intended to travel to Graubünden to assess conditions for the future build. It was a journey he was never to undertake. On 20 January 1923, Caminada died in Rome aged 60. At that time his waterway concept was a staple part of technical university curricula. But with the rising popularity of the automobile lobby, his project faded from the public mind.

‘He also envisages linking his Alpine water tunnel to the Black Sea and the Suez Canal.’

The numerous locks were designed to defy gravity.

In the early 20th century, domestic shipping still played a central role in the transportation of goods. Road infrastructure in the Alps was poor, with cargo barges proving more economical than rail freight. The New York Times featured an extended article about the proposed ‘Waterway across the Alps’. And the Weltrundschau from Leipzig extolled Caminada’s idea of a canal that ‘climbs the craggy peaks of the mountains’. On 3 January 1908, Caminada was invited to an audience with Italy’s King Victor Emmanuel III at Rome’s Quirinal Palace to discuss the project in more detail. ‘When I am long forgotten, people will still be talking about you,’ the monarch told him after his presentation. But oddly, it was in Caminada’s home canton Graubünden, where large parts of the canal were planned, that his ideas faced the most scepticism.

The engineer refused to be discouraged. He spent years fine-tuning the plans and attempting to persuade politicians of the benefits. The local newspaper Bündner Tagblatt described him as ‘a burning Vesuvius, a firebrand with hair down to his shoulders’. But August 1914 brought the outbreak of the First

However, nearly a century after Caminada’s death, an Alpine waterway could still become a reality. At least if Albert Mairhofer from Gsies in South Tyrol has his way. The hydropower activist and retired civil servant finds Caminada inspiring. ‘Very impressive,’ he rates the concept, ‘Just too complicated.’ Mairhofer’s own proposal dispenses with locks. Instead of traversing the Alps, he wants to burrow beneath them. His strategy: an 88 km shipping tunnel starting east of Innsbruck at an altitude of 550 metres, and running beneath the Alpine ridge all the way to Gargazon in North Italy’s Etschtal valley.

Based on his calculations, he predicted daily savings of a million litres of fuel and a 2,700 tonne reduction in CO 2 if the Brenner Pass were used chiefly by ships in the future. In Spring 2013, Mairhofer submitted his proposal to the European Commission in Brussels for funding. But his ideas don’t stop there.

He also envisages linking his Alpine water tunnel to the Black Sea and the Suez Canal.

It’s a wild idea – but that’s nothing new when it comes to overcoming the Alps.

Till Hein, geboren born in 1969, works as a freelance science journalist in Berlin. He writes for NZZ am Sonntag, ZEIT, mare, Süddeutsche Zeitung, Spiegel WISSEN and GEO among others. His novel Der Kreuzberg ruft! – Gratwanderungen durch Berlin [Kreuzberg calling – A balancing act in Berlin] has been published by be.bra.

55

On the trail of History Daniel Breimaier is a dispatcher at Gebrüder Weiss and a passionate treasure hunter

TEXT: Judith Pichler

H

is oldest find stems from the age of Marcus Aurelius.

‘A coin from the second century C. E.,’ Daniel Breimeier says and takes the ‘as’ from the collector’s box. Among his prized possessions are century-old lead seals, jewellery and coins from more recent times. The GW dispatcher has been treasure-hunting for some two years now.

How did he get the idea? ‘Indiana Jones, of course,’ he says.

The family man from Wangen in the Allgäu region spends five to six hours per week on fields and vineyards, searching with his metal detector and spade for lost treasures.

Since treasure hunters do not have to register with the authorities, their numbers can only be estimated. There are between 10,000 and 80,000 in Germany alone. Many of them simply want to earn some pocket money with their metal detectors. And sure enough, euro coins turn up time and again below the topsoil. For Breimaier, though, earning money is not the main aim. He is driven by history.

That being said, he stresses, ‘I would always get permission before exploring paths and fields that are of historic interest.’

If artefacts are removed from their environment without the necessary expertise, their archaeological importance may be obscured. Scientists can no longer determine which geological layer and period the piece originated in. ‘History is a heritage we all share, and it needs to be handled by professionals. therwise we can never learn from the errors that humankind Otherwise makes time and again.’

It is a matter of course for Daniel Breimaier to report his finds. He regularly sends an email to the appropriate agency containing dates, descriptions, pictures and coordinates.

‘Anything not registered is added to their archaeological records and archives. The rest I get to keep,’ he beams.

Some of his finds are closely related to transportation. As an employee in a shipping company, he is particularly interested in the history of trade. ‘Above all, it’s the numerous old customs and commodity seals from the 16th and 17th century that reveal the commercial importance of Southern Germany,’ he says. The fronts and backs of the lead seals were regularly stamped to identify the goods’ origins and corroborate their dispatch and receipt. But while he would someday like to take part in a professional dig, Daniel Breimaier has no desire to open a grave. ‘I’m religious – and superstitious to boot,’ he explains. ‘I wouldn’t want to incur the wrath of some ferocious Celtic warrior.’ But finding a gold coin – that would be a dream come true.

Judith Pichler, born in 1981, holds a doctorate in Social Science and Economics and is a project manager working in corporate communications at Gebrüder Weiss.

56 ATLAS

‘There’s nowhere you can Travelling the world’s longest railway line

TEXT: Wlada Kolosowa

T

PHOTOS: Olga Matweewa

he Russian railway is a country within a country. A vacuum-packed world, severed from everyday cares and concerns. The pace of life is different here, the measure of what is important transmuted. The visa for this country on wheels is a train ticket. Anyone with a long voyage ahead might even move in for a week: living here, sleeping here, reading books, gazing out the window, sipping tea, drinking schnapps, playing chess or more rarely guitar.

Like a spider’s web, the network extends throughout Russia. Carriages consisting of strung-together rooms roll through time and climate zones. A ‘coupé’ is a roughly four-squaremetre compartment with a small table and four berths – two up, two down. First-class ticket-holders usually only have one companion. In third class, also known as platzkart, one com-

ATLAS 57

Novosibirsk station is about halfway along the 13,000 km line from Irkutsk to Adler.

sleep better.’ partment holds six and there is no sliding door dividing it from the corridor. It can get noisy. Nevertheless: there’s nowhere in the world you can sleep better or longer than in a Russian sleeper.

Taking the Trans-Siberian Railway is a dream for many travellers. For Polina Konowalowa, it’s a job. During the winter the 20-year-old studies tariff law at the State University for Transport and Communications in Irkutsk. From the start of May to the end of September she takes the train – in a professional capacity. Polina is a ticket inspector.

This summer marks her second stint. She’s working the Irkutsk–Adler segment, roughly from Lake Baikal to the Black Sea and back, a total of 10 days. On each trip 13,000 kilometres pass Polina by: the taiga forests, the steppes, a deep green ocean. Only at sea can you travel as far and still seem to be in the same place.

Once in a while the endless green is punctuated by cottages with wooden skirting and by towns whose names foreigners might possibly recognize from Lonely Planet: Omsk, Nowosibirsk, Taiga, Krasnojarsk. ‘I only know the stations,’ Polina

says. ‘But I know them well.’ The trains don’t stop long enough to explore the towns. She only really glimpses the Black Sea at the terminus through the train window. There’s so much to do that there is hardly time to buy groceries for the return journey.

Clean the train, check the tickets, sell snacks and keep an eye out for problems – those are her duties. During her shift Polina might preside over a coupé carriage with 34 berths or an open platzkart car with 54 passengers. She may rule the rails, but she has to clean the toilets herself. ‘The best antidote to fatigue,’ she says and smiles her serious smile.

Each shift lasts 12 hours. Then she gets 12 hours off – time that Polina usually spends in the conductor’s compartment she shares with a fellow student. There they chat, cook millet gruel in the microwave and fry sunflower seeds. Although the trip is no joyride, they still find time for fun. After Polina has slept, spruced up her uniform and eaten, there’s occasionally time to visit the ticket collectors in other parts of the train.

They sit together, talk about the day, and drink. Tea, of course.

‘Alcohol and smoking are taboo. And we abide by that,’ says Polina. ‘You can’t afford to mess up: you are representing your university.’ As there is no phone reception on much of the

route, they arrange to meet by ‘chain’: a form of Chinese whispers that passes from conductor to conductor and only takes three minutes to reach one end of the train from the other.

There is often a chance to chat with passengers too: ‘That’s part of our job.’ She still keeps in touch with an elderly woman

she once met on the train. When she gets home, friend requests are frequently waiting on VKontakte, the Russian version of Facebook. ‘Lots of people read the name on my badge and look me up.’ Once she had a whole carriage full of soldiers who desperately wanted her cellphone number. ‘I’d rather

TRANS-SIBERIAN RAILWAY The main segment of the Trans-Siberian Railway passes through seven time zones. Passengers should always have two watches on them: the stations abide by local time but departures are shown in Moscow time.

COMMITTEE OF THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY ESTABLISHED:

1892

Kirow RUSSIA

Perm

Tjumen

Nischni Nowgorod

Moscow

Wladimir

Eyekaterinburg

Omsk

Nowosibirsk

Krasnsojarsk

9,298 km Irkutsk

KAZACHSTAN

UCRAINE

WORLD’S LONGEST TRAIN ROUTE:

AVERAGE SPEED:

58 km/h

MONGOLIA

BLACK SEA

Adler GEORGIA

CASPIAN SEA UZBEKISTAN

CHINA KYRGYZSTAN

RATIO OF EUROPEAN AND ASIAN SECTIONS OF ROUTE:

1: 4

The days and countryside pass by as the train traverses Russia from east to west.

you wrote,’ she said in an attempt to put them off. And then, a few weeks later, six letters arrived at her home address.

The student program for ticket collectors has a long tradition in Russia: ‘The head of our university enrolled in it too,’ Polina explains. Some 600 students take part from her university alone. Anyone wanting to work the trains has to complete a three-month course. Six hours a day, six days a week, studying subjects like psychology and technical services.

Foreigners laden with giant, brightly coloured backpacks sometimes tell her how scenic they find the Trans-Siberian.

The elegantly curved tea glasses. The incredible distances.

All the different shades of green: from the dusty green of city lawns to the apple-chewing-gum green of the forest glades, so lush and unnatural that it almost makes your teeth hurt.

Globetrotters’ eyes light up when they hear that the entire Trans-Siberian Railway has 9,298 kilometres of track – almost twice the distance between the American east and west coasts.

They envy Polina because she covers enough ground in a summer to travel twice around the world. Polina herself doesn’t see much romance in the Trans-Siberian: ‘The first time around I still looked out the window,’ she says. ‘But for Russians the train is more a means to an end, not an end in itself.’

After every trip Polina spends ten days in Irkutsk before setting out again. She makes about 1,500 euros per season.

‘If you work lots and lots, you can earn as much as 2,500 euros,’ she says. But she wants to enjoy the summer as well. To lie in the sun and not just watch it passing by. To swim. To travel somewhere and stop where she wants to. Could she imagine taking the Trans-Siberian for pleasure some time? ‘One day, for sure,’ she says. ‘But first I want a trip to the seaside. And most of all: I want to see Europe.’

Wlada Kolosowa was born in 1987 in St. Petersburg and grew up in Germany. Her interest in Russia only revived after she had completed a Communication Science and Psychology degree in Berlin. She has since published numerous books on the country.

60

Cause for celebration If life is a long, slow-flowing river, it is the traditions and rituals that lend it depth and sparkle. In addition to birthdays, anniversaries and the other highlights in people’s lives, the earth’s annual cycle offers an abundance of opportunities for celebration. And every commemoration is different, shaped by personal or cultural preferences. We asked our company employees which traditions they observe with their families. Anyone looking for new traditions to adopt might well find them below.

TUBA ÜȘÜMÜȘ, GW ISTANBUL

HA PHAN, WR VIETNAM

The Vietnamese New Year (Tet) is the most important celebration in our culture. In my childhood memories, Tet meant days off school, new clothes, tasty food and ‘lucky money’ in red envelopes. For me as a grown-up, Tet means getting together with relatives and honouring ancestors. It’s the spiritual side of things that counts more now.

Being able to spend all my free time with my son is a big source of pleasure and happiness. Every month we go to the ‘KARAGÖZ Traditional Theatre’.

The owner of the theatre does his very best to maintain some old traditions.

It specialises in shadow theatre which is based on the movements of people, animals or objects and was established by immigrants in Anatolia. The genre takes its name from its main character, Karagöz, which means ‘black eye’. For us, going to the shadow theatre is a really special tradition.

ERWIN FIDLER, GW MARIA LANZENDORF

Traditions are important as long as they aren’t exploited for profit. My family, friends and colleagues mean a lot to me, and I do try to embrace most customs at a personal level.

I observe occasions like Mother’s Day, Father’s Day and Valentine’s Day, but think it’s more important to pay extra attention to the needs of people close to you, or to simply express your appreciation by remembering to say ‘Thank you.’

ORAZ MALIKGULYYEV, FAR FREIGHT

Families in Turkmenistan are quite large and maintain strong traditional bonds with their relatives and family traditions. People in my country have been respecting and observing various customs and values for centuries. Friendship and love number among the most important values for the Turkmen. It’s important to maintain friendly relations with their neighbours. We say: ‘If your neighbour is happy, you will be happy too.’

CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION 61

VIARA NAIDENOVA, GW SOFIA

ELVIRA KARAMEHMEDOVIC, GW MARIA LANZENDORF

Traditions reveal a lot about the people who observe them: who they are, where they come from and what their values are. My favourite traditions include Christmas and the big family gatherings that are held several times a year in Bosnia. In Austria, my adopted home for many years, the Martini Fest (not least because of the goose!) and cooking with friends have become traditions for me.

Supper on Christmas Eve is something my family and I consider sacred. Traditionally it consists of 7, 9 or 11 meatless dishes. The most important thing is the bread – round ritual loaves decorated with a picture of the stable in which Christ was born. Traditionally a coin and lucky charms are put in the bread to bring good luck. These charms are made of natural materials, and every one of them symbolises something. When we finally gather around the table after a whole day of cooking, my mother says a prayer. Then my father pours glasses of heated rakia (a traditional spirit). We have to try all the dishes, and at the end of the evening we are all stuffed full.

NORBERT BLENK, GW ALTENRHEIN

SONJA DIMOSKA, GW SKOPJE

Every year on Palm Sunday it’s customary in my family to have palm leaves and evergreen or privet branches blessed in the churches. If bad weather is approaching, the peasants follow an old custom of burning such a leaf in a stove, tiled or otherwise. This serves to shield communities from lightning strikes and other disasters – by protecting people’s houses, farms and stables.

Painting Easter eggs is one of the oldest traditions in our family.

The eggs are decorated on Holy Thursday and the first ones have to be finished by sunrise. This is the duty and honour granted to the elder ‘lady’ of the house, and it is passed on from mother to daughter. The first egg is used to draw a symbolic cross on the faces of the children. Babies witnessing their first Easter are even washed with this egg. It is held to have protective powers and kept in a special place in the house until the following Easter. And, believe me, it never goes bad – because it was coloured before sunrise.

ALASKA In Fairbanks the Midnight Sun Festival takes place from midday to midnight. The day’s climax is the World EskimoIndian Olympics with events such as ‘Ear Pulling’ and ‘Knuckle Hopping’.

ENGLAND The ancient archaeological site Stonehenge was used to determine the summer solstice no less than 2,500 years before Christ. The entrance to the site points exactly to where the sun rises on that day. Nowadays more than 10,000 people gather here every year to celebrate throughout the night with music, dancing and fire.

FINLAND

LITHUANIA In Lithuania people believe that animals too can speak during the shortest night of the year. But the people alone don colourful costumes for the event and drink specially brewed beer.

The majority of Finns head out into the countryside and celebrate with friends and family in summer houses decked out with blossoms and birch twigs.

Needless to say, visits to the sauna are central to the festival. According to ancient custom, the harvest will also be more plentiful if people drink on ‘Juhannus’.

RUSSIA In St. Petersburg the ‘White Nights’ are celebrated and the entire city mutates into a gigantic public festival. Schoolleavers attend their final classes on June 21 and traditionally spend the night relaxing on the River Neva in chartered boats with purple sails.

‘Here comes the sun!’* F

rom time immemorial the summer solstice on June 21 has been viewed as a mystical event; it is marked by both secular rituals and religious rites the world over. Since the Middle Ages the festivities have often revolved around the birthday of St John the Baptist on June 24. Communal bonfires feature regularly and are regarded as enhancing the sunlight and driving out ill fortune. These festivals are

* This famous song was composed by George Harrison in Eric Clapton’s garden at the start of spring.

particularly common in Scandinavia and along the Baltic coast, but bonfires also light up the sky in the mountains and valleys of the Alps. In 2010 UNESCO added the mountain fires to Austria’s Intangible Cultural Heritage list. And while the regional mid-summer customs seem similar – at least in Europe – the traditions do differ in their detail. We have taken a closer look.

CHINA ‘Xiazhi’ is celebrated in the south-west Chinese city of Yulin, with dog meat traditionally on offer in every conceivable dish: grilled, boiled or in a soup. By contrast the residents of Beijing mark the summer solstice with pasta softened in cold water, as the long, smooth noodles symbolise the absence of friction and are thought to bring good luck.

BRAZIL In Brazil St. John’s Eve coincides with the corn harvest. For this reason various corn dishes are prepared in honour of São João. Cooked on the ceremonial bonfire, they include cakes, puddings, soups and corn on the cob. The women tend to wear colourful, loose-fitting dresses, while the men sport checked shirts and straw hats.

BOLIVIA For the indigenous Amayas, the summer solstice marks the beginning of a new year.

Fires are lit and sacrifices offered up, e. g. unborn llamas. When the brightest of nights reaches its end, everybody raises their hands to welcome the rising sun.

TYROL NORWAY On St. John’s Eve, torches and fires are lit in remembrance of ‘Jonsok’, and children re-enact a traditional Norwegian wedding. Young girls pluck seven different types of flowers, put them under their pillows and dream of their future husbands.

Fires lit to mark the summer solstice have been reclaimed to commemorate the so-called Sacred Heart vow of 1796, with which the leaders of Tyrol called for divine assistance in their battle against Napoleon’s armies. These fires are often arranged in the shape of hearts, crucifixes and the insignia of Christ, and set ablaze on the Saturday or Sunday after the Feast of the Sacred Heart.

SWEDEN At ‘midsommar’ the Swedes dance in a circle around a decorated tree trunk. Many of them wear costumes or garlands made of flowers or birch twigs. The traditional meal for the day includes new potatoes, herring, chives, sour cream, crisp bread and cheese.

FAROE ISLANDS The Jóansøka was first held in 1925 – a sports festival that features the country’s annual rowing championships.

Football, cycling and athletics events are also held.

SPAIN Sleep is a rare commodity on San Juan’s Night.

Instead the Spaniards gather around fires to celebrate the victory of light over darkness.

People often meet at the beach where, at midnight, they dive into the water and light fireworks.

The whole world in a nutshell The model is the microcosm

66 MINIATURE WONDERLAND

TEXT AND FOTOS: Miriam Holzapfel

I

t was a small replica of an increasingly popular locomotive that ultimately moved Johann Wolfgang von Goethe to concern himself with the railway in his later years. He was highly skeptical of this radically new form of transport at the time. ‘It dances towards us like a storm, slowly, slowly – but it has set its course: it will come and strike,’ Goethe wrote in Wilhelm Meister’s Years of Travel to describe the ‘overpowering machine’ at a time when the age of rail was imminent. But Germany’s greatest poet was never to witness the inauguration of continental Europe’s first steampowered railway line from Nuremberg to Fürth in 1835. Thanks to friends in England – the birthplace of rail travel – he was, however, able to call a miniature of the era’s fastest steam locomotive – ‘The Rocket’ – his own.

As for Goethe and indeed machinery, one thing still holds true today: A model is often the best way of understanding reality. Viewing a miniature version of something ostensibly so overwhelming and untamable in real life can be fascinating and even mesmerizing. However, the traditional pastime of modelmaking is now regarded as outdated and somewhat dull, favoured by antisocial types – with nerdy men its only likely devotees.

Small wonder that nobody anticipated the success of Frederik and Gerrit Braun when they set out to construct the world’s largest model railway in Hamburg.

When the idea was mooted in 2000, it seemed unlikely that such an exhibition would appeal to the broad masses. But the skeptical response to their proposal only made the Braun twins more determined. It took 600,000 hours to create the miniature cosmos that is now housed inside a listed building in Hamburg’s

As in real life – not everything goes to plan.

68 MINIATURE WONDERLAND

A watchful eye: familiarity with where the supports and substructure run allows repairs to be made on the fly.

‘Warehouse City’. There are trains, to be sure, but there’s lots more action to be seen too. ‘We wanted to create a magical world that would capture the imaginations of men, women and children alike,’ Gerrit Braun says. And they did. The world’s largest model railway now covers more than 1300 metres. In December of 2012, it welcomed its ten millionth visitor.

For the love of detail Still: size doesn’t always matter. Its sheer scale is not the only thing that sets the Miniature Wonderland apart from other model displays. The incredible attention to detail takes it to a whole new dimension. Each of the eight interlinked sections is brought to life by countless vignettes of everyday life. Tiny figures dramatize romance and social critiques, liberalism and tradition, melding reality with fantasy. Although a few features are purely fictitious (like a railway tunnel linking Hamburg and the US ), much is true to life. The 300 or so cars actually adhere to the German Highway Code; cameras clock any vehicle that speeds.

A petrol station displays real-time fuel prices, and the magnetic docking device used by ships in the Scandinavian segment is a copy of the system deployed by the ferries on Hamburg’s Alster lake. A

‘And despite numbers not being everything, it’s difficult to avoid being impressed.’ miniature chocolate factory in Switzerland produces slabs of edible Lindt chocolate. Day breaks and night falls as well – albeit somewhat more frequently that in the real world: the cycle lasts a mere 15 minutes. In addition, some 335,000 lights go on and off to illuminate the hours between dusk and dawn.

And despite numbers not being everything, it’s difficult to avoid being impressed. More than 900 trains travel along 6 km of visible tracks, with an additional 13 km behind the scenes where countless fiddle yards and stations join the complex technology. The entire exhibition is digitally controlled by 46 computers; 200 cameras keep the big picture in view. Numerous members of staff ensure everything runs smoothly, rushing to fix faulty switches or remove dust where required. Today the Miniature Wonderland employs a workforce of 300; it first opened with a team of 40.

A panoramic patchwork of the world The opening of a ‘Little Italy’ is planned for 2016, with France and likely England set to follow. As for previous segments, the model builders are given a rough

script on which they base scenes designed to bring the miniature buildings and landscapes to life. Visitors occasionally submit their own ideas for stories that are suitable to this small format.

The result is a collage of narratives from all over the world. Architectural landmarks like the Colosseum are based on pictorial renderings; no ready-made pieces are ever used. Italy, under construction since May 2013, will soon be home to 30,000 miniature figurines. An estimated 120,000 hours will be devoted to this segment alone. To use Goethe’s words, it is dancing towards us ‘like a storm, slowly, slowly.’ As we know, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Miriam Holzapfel, born in 1975, is a cultural scientist and a journalist for ATLAS.

ATLAS 69

70 ORANGE NETWORK

WIDE

HIGH

The first sod was turned at end of the December for the construction of the Nicaragua Canal.

The controversial waterway connecting the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans will be 278 km long and between 230 and 530 metres wide. Ships are expected to take 30 hours to complete the passage.

Opened in 2004, the Millau Viaduct in Southern France is the highest motorway bridge in the world at 270 metres. The structure itself rises a full 343 metres, and the bridge is 2,460 metres long.

USA The American market is gaining in significance for GW. Following Germany, the USA is Austria’s second most important export partner. To tap the potential of the emerging markets still more effectively, the Route Development management team has now strategically extended the scope of its services to the USA and Brazil, where it is supporting the GW organisation in its acquisition of new business.

GEORGIA Due to its geopolitical location, this country in the Caucasus is fast gaining strategic significance.

A rapid increase in shipments has moved Gebrüder Weiss to operate its direct consolidated cargo service three times a week; this consolidated cargo is processed at the Tbilisi terminal, which was opened in 2013.

Goods from all over Europe are collected in Passau, shipped directly to Tbilisi and then delivered to the end customers: a unique service in Europe.

SPAIN GW has transported 1,200 metres of chain weighing a total of 885 ton nes from Bilbao to Rotterdam.

Equivalent to five jumbo jets, the freight was moved in multiple stages using two mobile cranes with a lifting power of 100 tonnes each.

The chains are now being used to secure a drilling platform.

QATAR On behalf of its customer Emerson, Gebrüder Weiss used the freight plane ‘Antonov AN 124–100’ to transport a complete laboratory from its production site in Cluj, Romania via Bucharest to Qatar, where it will be installed in a fertilizer factory. The transhipment was handled at Bucharest Airport, where the equipment was lifted by crane from the truck into the Antonov’s hold. The entire process, including securing the load, took more than 10 hours.

ORANGE NETWORK 71

LONG

A LIGHTWEIGHT FOR HEAV Y WEIGHTS

A new railway line is due to link Central Asia with the Persian Gulf. Extending 900 km, it will enable freight trains to travel between western Kazakhstan and northern Iran. The groundbreaking ceremony was held in December 2014.

The California-based Worldwide Aeros Corporation has developed an airship that can transport up to 66 tonnes of cargo. Once the financing has been secured, the ‘Dragon Dream’ is expected to enter mass production.

RUSSIA Following its takeover of Far Freight last year, Gebrüder Weiss took a further step in the strategically important region by establishing a presence in Moscow at the start of the year. With branches in the city centre and at two of the main airports, the GW team will present a full package of services. To date, GW has nine staff in Moscow; by the end of the year their number is due to rise to 20.

AUSTRIA Gebrüder Weiss has been successful in the Home Delivery segment for a decade. Under ‘GW pro.line home’, GW is now offering end-customer deliveries throughout Austria. The service includes providing technical data and disposing of old appliances. In addition, GW also designs webshop solutions and offers payment and returns management, warehousing and call-centre services.

UAE In April 2015, Weiss-Röhlig Dubai is commencing construction of a logistics hub with an area of some 5,000 square metres. Set to start operation at the end of the year, the facility is designed to tap the opportunities offered by new customers entering the market; WR Dubai will be fully licensed as a logistics services provider in the free trade zone with the result that customers without a base in Dubai will not need to establish one.

CHINA In January a trial run for an intermodal parcel service by rail was completed successfully: GW Air & Sea Hörsching and WR Shanghai organized an express parcel shipment for Goweil Maschinenbau GmbH on the Trans-Siberian line – from Ningbo in China to Wels in Austria. Weighing 950 kg, the shipment was delivered to the customer within the relatively short span of 21 days, and significant air freight charges were avoided.

The next ATLAS : Freedom

The next issue of ATLAS will be released in autumn 2015 – we thank you for reading or at least browsing through it so far. We would be even happier if you could tell us what you thought of this edition of ATLAS so that we can do what we already do even better. Please send us an e-mail to redaktion@gw-atlas.com.

ATLAS is the customer magazine of Gebrüder Weiss

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Ideas and design: Frank Haas for Gebrüder Weiss Gesellschaft m. b. H. and Rainer Groothuis. Editor and project management: Miriam Holzapfel, Imke Borchers, Judith Pichler. Layout: Rainer Groothuis, Miriam Kunisch. Proofreading: Tessa Scott. Producers: Carolin Beck, Raimund Fink.

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Article number: 6037 ATLAS is published in a German edition, an English edition

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what’s your take on tradition? some don’t care a whit others feel an obligation it’s a burden, it’s a hit – it’s destruction – or inspiration we’ve always done it one set way! begone you pedants blind! cicero knew it in his day: a wrestling match in the mind is tradition future’s wellspring? or knowledge that’s seen its day? is it an instinctive thing or just the lazy way? is tradition a recipe for tomorrow that calls for wisdom as well? the answer … well, what do you know? it’s a little of both in parallel. what was good can soon turn bad and double edges hath a sword to switch the blade might just sound mad but could be the key to more accord.

INGO NEUMAYER pens poetry and a German language blog entitled Twelve Lines on Time (www.zwoelfzeilen.com). He lives in Cologne.

ATLAS No 4 : With news, views, interviews and pictures galore powered by a fascination with a world on the move.