Posts Tagged ‘bucket list’

Paternoster Ride on your Bucket List?

Monday, September 11th, 2017

 

You have been on elevators, right? But have you ever taken a paternoster from one floor to another? If not, put it on your bucket list. It’s a one-of-a-kind experience. Paternosters are rare these days, but not extinct. I used to ride a paternoster regularly to get to the cafeteria level in one of the Tempelhof Airport buildings in Berlin in the 1960’s. Since the repurposing of the airport, however, I doubt that the paternoster still exists.

What is a paternoster and how does it work?

A paternoster lacks most of the features we associate with elevators. It doesn’t stop to take on or drop off passengers. There are no doors. There are no buttons to push to select a floor. The ride is slow (generally one foot per second) to allow passengers to enter and exit.

So how does a paternoster transport people? A paternoster is a continuously moving type of elevator, which consists of a chain of open compartments that slowly move in a loop inside a building. The compartments wrap around like a chain. There are two side-by-side openings on each level. Potential passengers wait for the next compartment to arrive and step into or out of either the “up” or “down” side on any given floor. These endlessly looping lifts are slower than conventional elevators, but the movement never stops so that they are quite efficient. It takes some getting used to, but it is lots of fun to ride a paternoster.

Schematic representation of the functional principle of a paternoster (from wikipedia). www.walled-in-berlin.com

Schematic representation of the functional principle of a paternoster (from wikipedia). www.walled-in-berlin.com

History of the paternoster

The paternoster was invented in England. British architect, Peter Ellis, installed the first elevators that could be described as paternoster lifts in Liverpool in 1868, making him the father of the paternoster. The first true paternoster was installed in 1876 at the General Post Office in London. It was used to transport packages, not people. Then in 1882, British engineer, Peter Hart, developed a paternoster for people.

Paternosters were quite popular in the 20th century and were mostly located in government buildings and universities because passengers in these places are usually able-bodied adults. Getting on and off requires some concentration to avoid tripping or falling and associated injuries. Therefore, paternoster use is not recommended for the elderly, the disabled, wheelchair users or for children. There are also prohibitions against transporting loads with the paternoster. Today, most countries have banned the construction of new paternosters. However, public support for existing ones has helped keep the last few hundred of them operational.

Where does the paternoster get is name?

Initially they were called cyclic elevators. The name “paternoster” became popular because the arrangement of the compartments resembles a rosary. Paternoster compartments make a loop on a chain similar to rosary beads that are rotated by Catholics reciting prayers. Pater Noster literally means Our Father, which are the first words of the Lord’s Prayer in Latin.

Where can paternosters be found?

During the 20th century, paternosters became popular in Europe while never really catching on in the rest of the world. In recent decades, many paternosters have been dismantled. But a few hundred still exist, most of them in Germany. According to some estimates, Germany still has about 231 operational paternosters. Others can be found in Great Britain, Austria, Switzerland and the Czech Republic. There may be only two paternosters left outside of Europe.

The oldest, operational paternoster is located in the House of Industry – a concert hall – in Vienna, Austria. The lift was built in 1910. No new paternosters have been allowed in Austria since the 1960s. The last publicly accessible paternoster can be found in the fashion shop Bayard in Bern, Switzerland. The Parliament building of the German state of Schleswig-Holstein in Kiel has had an operational paternoster since 1950. And the Bundesfinanzministerium (German Finance Ministry, former House of Ministries, now Detlev-Rohwedder-Haus) in Berlin http://www.walled-in-berlin.com/j-elke-ertle/detlev-rohwedder-building-history/ still has a 1982 paternoster. Although no new paternosters have been put into operation in West Germany since 1974, no such restrictions applied to East Germany. Since the Bundesfinanzministerium is located in a building that belonged to the former East Germany, its paternoster could be saved. However, it serves employees only. For safety reasons, they are were required to obtain a “paternoster drivers license” prior to using it.

Paternoster in the German Finance Ministry (Detlev Rohwedder Building) in Berlin, Wilhelmstr. 97. Photo by Andreas Praefcke, 2007. www.walled-in-berlin.com

Paternoster in the German Finance Ministry (Detlev Rohwedder Building) in Berlin, Wilhelmstr. 97. Photo by Andreas Praefcke, 2007. www.walled-in-berlin.com

 

For a sneak peek at the first 20+ pages of my memoir, “Walled-In: A West Berlin Girl’s Journey to Freedom,” click “Download a free excerpt” on the home page of http://www.walled-in-berlin.com

 

 

Wattwagenfahrt – endless discovery

Monday, July 31st, 2017

 

A Wattwagenfahrt (horse-drawn carriage ride in the Wadden Sea) is an eerily romantic and definitely unforgettable experience! Along the 280-mile stretch of German coastline, the seawater recedes for an incredible nine miles during ebb tide and exposes vast tidal flats in the process. We wanted to see this rare vestige of unspoiled nature and signed up for a Wattwagenfahrt. We started in Cuxhaven-Duhnen and headed for the tiny island of Neuwerk, about 7.5 miles into the North Sea.

What a Wattwagen looks like

A Wattwagen is a horse-drawn carriage that has been outfitted with leaf springs so that the body of the coach perches high above the vehicle’s wheels. The reason for the raised suspension is that the expedition will take us through tidal gullies, called Priele. Contrary to popular belief, the Wadden Sea Read: Allure of the Wadden Sea does not recede and refill evenly during low and high tides. A vein-like network of gullies cuts through the surface of the wetland. These tidal creeks can be just a few inches deep at low tide and grow into rivers as the tide returns, which can happen within minutes. Negotiating the gullies, the horses frequently end up in the water up to their bellies. That means the floor of the coach also gets wet. To minimize this problem, the leaf springs raise the coach and hopefully keep it from becoming immersed in water.

A Wattwagen with leaf springs to elevate the coach floor. Photo © J. Elke Ertle, 2017. www.walled-in-berlin.com

A Wattwagen with leaf springs to elevate the coach floor. Photo © J. Elke Ertle, 2017. www.walled-in-berlin.com

Our fascinating Wattwagenfahrt

We signed up with the Wattwagenfahrt operator, the “Wattenpost,” operated by Jan Bruett. This family business has been in continuous operation since 1880 when the German Emperor Wilhelm I charged Christian Bruett with the task of delivering the mail to the island of Neuwerk. To this day, the Bruett family continues to deliver the mail on a weekly basis. You might say we felt in good hands.

Each Wattwagen has the capacity of loading nine people (8 passengers and the coachman). Our coachman was actually a woman, Claudia, who possessed a keen sense of humor. The expedition began with ladders being readied for the boarding process since the seating area is so high off the ground. After everyone was seated and wrapped in warm blankets, our convoy of about 10 Wattwagen slowly crossed the dike, the dunes and the beach and then entered the mudflats of the Wadden Sea. Tufts of birch tree twigs stuck in the ocean floor marked the route. The tide was low and the sun was shining. The horses broke into a trot. Soon, we were joined by another expedition coming from nearby Cuxhaven-Sahlenburg. Together we made the 1.5-hour trek to Neuwerk.  Read: Neuwerk Worth a Staycation Although it was early May, the temperatures were outright frosty. A robust wind blew from the east, and some of the gusts managed to penetrate our carefully layered clothing. We looked and felt a bit like early pioneers making our way to the New World.

Wattwagenfahrt from Duhnen to Neuwerk. Photo © J. Elke Ertle, 2017. www.walled-in-berlin.com

Wattwagenfahrt from Duhnen to Neuwerk. Photo © J. Elke Ertle, 2017. www.walled-in-berlin.com

The island of Neuwerk beckoned in the distance. Before us lay the great expanse of wetland, serrated here and there by small and large priels. Sea birds above the ground, small sea life below the ground. Every once in a while we passed a safety cage propped on a giant pole. These cages serve as safe havens for people who misjudged the speed of the incoming tide while crossing the mud flats on foot. Looking to our right, the superstructures of giant container ships slowly moved down the nearby Elbe River towards Hamburg. In this fast-paced life, a Wattwagenfahrt is a truly peaceful and bewitching experience. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat and recommend it to anyone for their bucket list.

 

For a sneak peek at the first 20+ pages of my memoir, “Walled-In: A West Berlin Girl’s Journey to Freedom,” click “Download a free excerpt” on the home page of http://www.walled-in-berlin.com