Europe From Above (2019–…): Season 1, Episode 3 - Germany - full transcript
NARRATOR: Germany.
With a unique aerial view
of the richest,
most powerful nation in Europe,
we'll reveal how the German people
have built city-sized factories
and engineering masterpieces, old and new,
to forge a nation
that is the powerhouse of a continent.
In this series,
we'll take an aerial tour across Europe,
seeing its sights
from a brand-new perspective.
Filmed from above,
over the course of a single year,
as the landscape transforms
through the changing seasons,
we will uncover the culture, history,
and engineering
that built the great European nations
we see today.
Germany, the heart of Europe.
Bounded by the Alps in the south
and stretching up to the Baltic
and North Seas,
it's the continent's economic heavyweight.
But its wealth
isn't just measured in euro.
Germany is super-charged
with history and culture.
In the east is Berlin,
a city long in the crosshairs of history.
Hamburg is the gateway to the North Sea.
From above, we see an old port
finding new life with modern architecture.
The west
is a landscape of mammoth factories
and billowing cooling towers.
Whereas, a birds-eye view
of southern Germany
reveals a land
thick with forests and fairytale castles.
When the temperature drops,
tourists flock to the south.
Azure lakes
wear cloaks of brilliant light.
And rocky mountains become playgrounds.
It's winter in Germany.
It's on this southern border that Germans
have created a mountaintop mega structure.
Viewed from above,
the Alps are a fractured swathe of white,
slicing 1,200 kilometers across Europe.
Only a tiny fraction of the mountain chain
strays into Germany's southern border.
But this small patch of white
is home
to a record-breaking feat of engineering.
In 2017, Germany opened a cable car
that rides to the top
of Zugspitze Mountain,
the country's tallest peak.
Engineers battled fierce weather
and dizzying altitude
to conquer this natural wonder.
The track is 4.5 kilometers long,
and lifts passengers two kilometers
into the sky in a single leap.
The climb is so steep that at the top,
the cables appear nearly vertical.
It rests on the shoulders of Josef Ross
and his team of engineers
to keep everyone
taking the trip up the mountain safe.
And today,
they're taking a ride with a difference.
They're not traveling inside the car.
Instead, they sit on top of it.
Their incredible job
is to examine every millimeter
of the 4.5-kilometer long cables,
hunting for signs of wear and tear.
And our birds-eye view
can travel alongside them,
all the way to the top,
as they look for damage.
(Josef Ross speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
You see it right away,
and you have to repair the damages
or, in the worst cases, put up new cables.
NARRATOR: Each of the four cables
they're inspecting weighs 153 tons,
as much as 20 elephants.
Yet, astonishingly, this single tower,
the size of a 40-story skyscraper,
is all that holds those cables up
in the middle.
And the tower must also be inspected.
The crew stop the cable car.
Our aerial cameras follow,
as they take a daredevil stroll
One hundred and twenty-seven meters
above the ground.
They must check the condition
of the tower's 40 rubber rollers,
to ensure the car runs smoothly.
(Josef Ross speaking in German):
(man translating in English) If the rubber
wears out, a pulley might come off,
and then it's steel on steel.
This damages the cable,
and then you'd have a serious problem
that you wouldn't be able to repair.
NARRATOR: Thankfully,
the rollers are spinning smoothly.
The team can continue up the mountain.
The cables get steeper and steeper,
until they make their final approach
to the mountain station,
almost three kilometers high.
For most people,
the stomach-churning height
would be terrifying.
But for Josef,
it's the most thrilling part of the job.
(Josef Ross speaking in German):
(man translating in English)
When you're on the cabin at the top,
you get a completely unobstructed
panoramic view.
♪ ♪
It's really one of the best jobs
that you can have.
NARRATOR: It takes seven
nerve-shredding hours
for the team
to complete their inspections.
The cables are in near mint condition.
Good news for the 500,000 visitors
who come to ski or simply enjoy the view.
Here in the Alps,
Germany's legendary engineering skills
have conquered a mountain.
But further north, those same skills
are hard at work
in a factory almost the size of Gibraltar.
Germany's heart is a dense web of cities,
crisscrossed by road, rail, and waterways.
This is industrial Germany.
And at its center sits the crown jewel,
Volkswagen's enormous Wolfsburg plant.
At 6.5 million square meters,
it's the world's largest
manufacturing facility.
It's December,
and Christmas is fast approaching,
but this place isn't slowing down.
Two power stations churn out
450 megawatts of electricity.
And seven dedicated locomotives
shunt wagons
around the plant's own train terminal.
The plant employs more than 62,000 people,
who produce around 800,000 cars a year.
And this is how each car begins life,
a roll of steel weighing 30 tonnes.
Our exclusive birds-eye view will follow
as this roll of steel
is transformed into a white family 4x4.
Our car starts in a vast workshop
spanning around 78,000 square meters.
It's called the press shop.
And it's under the watchful eye
of Friedrich Mengedoht.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
The entire press shop is approximately
the same size as 11 football fields.
This is where
the car comes into existence.
NARRATOR: First,
giant rollers unwind the sheet steel,
and hydraulic tools
cut and press it into parts.
The robots make it look easy,
churning out 420,000 body parts a day,
as their human supervisors watch on.
(Dr. Friedrich Mengedoht
speaking in German):
(man translating in English): You've got
enormous forces that are at work there.
The floor does shake.
NARRATOR: But despite the speed,
the press shop
works with astonishing precision.
Each part is accurate
to a 10th of a millimetre.
A conveyor system whisks the parts
from the press shop
to yet another enormous work space,
the body shop.
Here, robotic arms
wield fiercely hot welding torches
to assemble the sections together,
before each newly-formed shell
is given a lick of paint.
So far, barely a human hand
has touched a single car part.
But there's one area
where each vehicle needs a human touch.
The final stage of production,
the assembly line.
Jeannette Thiemann oversees
the finishing touches to our white 4x4
in the assembly room
at VW's Wolfsburg plant.
(Jeannette Thiemann speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
I think that we have a different kind
of discipline here in Germany,
I want to say stubborn,
with regard to quality.
NARRATOR: Our aerial view
reveals the highly-skilled workers
aren't competing with robots,
they're in harmony with them.
(Jeannette Thiemann speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
The machines here do work very precisely,
but they're not as flexible as a human.
NARRATOR: Together,
robots and humans fix chassis to bodies,
and bolt engines and batteries
into the car.
A moving conveyor ensures
that as soon as one job is finished,
the car is already in place
for the next component.
(speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
Every 60 seconds,
a finished car leaves the belt.
NARRATOR: It's taken a little over a day
to transform a humble roll of steel
into our brand-new family car,
but its journey is not quite over.
A conveyor belt transports it
to the plant's crowning glory,
a sci-fi-inspired parking tower.
Robotic assistants
hoist the car 50 meters into the air,
and carefully slot it into a parking bay,
ready for collection by its new owner.
It's not just cars Germans build.
Across the country,
city-sized factories churn out
everything from petrochemicals
to steel.
And at ports like Hamburg, these goods
are transported out around the globe,
making Germany Europe's biggest exporter.
As the months tick by,
winter's grip loosens.
The snow in the mountains retreats
and frozen lakes thaw.
Spring comes to Germany.
The melting snow
reveals Germany's lush landscape.
The dark green patches
visible in satellite images are forests.
Roughly a third of the country
is covered in dense woodland.
And in Germany's far southwest
is the most iconic forest of them all,
an enormous patch of dark green
containing some two billion trees,
the Black Forest.
Our aerial view reveals the story
behind this forest's name.
The trees are packed together so tightly,
that in places,
sunlight can't get through.
The forest floor seems almost black.
Just as iconic as the trees
are the traditional huts,
constructed from wooden tiles.
The tiles are called shingles.
They're perfect
for keeping the huts watertight,
but making them properly
is a skilled engineering feat.
Ernst Karle is a master shingle maker.
Spring marks the time
when Ernst and his son Lukas
search for the perfect wood
to ply their trade.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
It starts when you choose a tree.
I pick an area where the trees
are not too exposed to the wind.
You don't want to see any branches
for the first ten meters.
NARRATOR: The tree they're looking for
will be used to restore
the walls of this 100-year-old hut.
And the finest shingles
mustn't be warped or contain knots.
So Ernst is very picky.
He eventually finds what he's looking for.
ERNST KARLE: Lukas!
NARRATOR: From above,
we can see Ernst chose his tree well.
Tall and straight,
it'll be perfect for shingle making.
Lukas carefully fells the tree.
They then transport it back
to the family home,
where the shingle making can begin.
(Ernst Karle speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
This type of job just fills you with joy.
I'm never in a bad mood
when I'm making shingles.
NARRATOR: Lukas
uses a traditional log-splitting tool
called a froe
to slice the tree into pieces.
Whilst Ernst sits on a machine
called a shaving horse,
slicing each tile to size.
Even Ernst's four-year-old grandson,
Lenny, gets involved.
He's like me when I was young.
He's walking around
and he wants to be with us.
NARRATOR:
With three generations working together,
the Karle family
can make 600 shingles a day.
They then drive into the forest,
where they can begin to nail
row after row of the tiles to the hut.
(Ernst Karle speaking in English):
(man translating in English): What more
could you ask for in your workplace?
It's quiet, you make the hut, you bring
a sandwich, and sit in the sun for lunch.
What's important
is that it's properly done,
and the quality is there.
NARRATOR: It'll take another 11,000 tiles
to finish this hut.
But once the work is done,
the hut will be able to withstand
all the rain, snow, and wind
the Black Forest throws at it.
Springtime in the Black Forest
is like something out of a fairytale.
It was scenes like this
that inspired two local brothers,
in the early 1800s, to write stories
such as Hansel and Gretel,
Snow White, and Cinderella.
They were the Brothers Grimm,
and the next stop on this aerial journey
could easily be the setting
for one of their folk tales.
This is Hohenzollern Castle
in the state of Baden-Württemberg.
Our bird's-eye view can soar over
this 140-room storybook fortress,
built by the Hohenzollern family,
Prussian royalty.
They chose this impossibly lofty perch
to show off their power
to all who passed by.
Today, the building
and its sumptuous interiors
draw 350,000 visitors a year.
And with warmer weather around the corner,
it's up to castle custodian, Anja Hoppe,
to make sure the building
is in tip-top condition.
(speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
It is a big responsibility,
but on the other hand,
of course, it's also a big honor.
It makes me so happy
to be able to work here.
It's simply my mission.
NARRATOR: Today, Anja's arranged
for a specialist group of climbers
to visit the castle.
They abseil down the sandstone facades,
but they're not here to repair the walls,
they're here to brutally attack them
with hammers.
This isn't vandalism.
They're keeping
Hohenzollern's visitors safe.
(Anja Hoppe speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
The façade climbers come twice a year.
They remove elements
that have become loose over time,
to prevent anything from falling
on our visitors or on the streets.
They're like heroes
balancing themselves on the walls.
And on top of that,
they're very handsome men!
NARRATOR: The climbers methodically
work their way down the walls,
chipping out anything that could
pose a threat to visitors below.
But surprisingly,
there's not much material to remove.
The walls are in excellent condition.
This castle may look medieval,
but it's an impostor.
It wasn't even built
when the Brothers Grimm began
penning their tales
of princesses and evil queens.
(Anja Hoppe speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
It's actually a young castle,
only 150 years old.
NARRATOR: Why build
such an impressive defensive structure
in an era when
medieval knights were long gone?
In the 1800s, Germany was obsessed
with tales of shining armor
and fair maidens living in tall towers.
So, what better way to join the trend
than to build your own Camelot?
(Anja Hoppe speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
It had to look medieval, of course,
but it's in no way a medieval castle,
no knights ever lived here.
NARRATOR: The climbers finish their work.
The masonry they've so violently removed
will be carefully restored,
leaving the building as good as new.
A pre-Disney Disneyland castle.
(speaking in German):
(woman translating in English): It does
feel a bit like a Hollywood kind of scene,
and I'm thinking to myself,
"My God, it can't possibly be
this beautiful in real life."
NARRATOR: Hohenzollern
isn't the only German castle
that hides its youth.
From above, we can see Germany is littered
with modern fairytale fortresses.
Hohenschwangau in Bavaria
is only 180 years old.
And Neuschwanstein, the inspiration
for Disney's Sleeping Beauty Castle,
was still a construction site
140 years ago.
They may not be
authentic medieval strongholds,
but they're magical sites for tourists,
especially when the warm rays of summer
begin to shine.
♪ ♪
It's June.
In the German capital, Berlin,
the sun beats down
on some of the country's
most varied architecture.
From the neo-renaissance Berlin Cathedral,
modernist housing estates,
to the Fernsehturm,
an iconic Soviet TV tower.
But perhaps the most important site here
isn't a building,
it's the crumbling remnants
of the Berlin Wall.
This was once a city divided.
At the end of World War II,
Berlin was split between the victors.
France, Britain, and the US took the west,
and the Soviets the east.
Tensions grew, and in 1961,
the Berlin Wall was built
straight through the city's heart.
But there's an unsung hero in this story.
Ten kilometers west of the wall,
a cluster of buildings dotted
with strange white circles is visible.
Looking closer, our flying cameras reveal
an enormous tower
that's fallen into decay,
topped and flanked by gigantic spheres.
Teufelsberg,
an American Cold War listening station.
This remarkable building may have
saved humanity from self-destruction.
Teufelsberg
was an American spy station
designed to eavesdrop
on Soviet communications.
Chris McLarren was one of
the intelligence officers who worked here.
CHRIS MCLARREN: Berlin was such
a remarkable city during the Cold War,
because we were armed to the teeth
and the Soviets were armed to the teeth.
And it probably would only have taken some
misunderstandings for war to break out.
NARRATOR: The strange story
of Teufelsberg listening station
begins not with the buildings
but the hill they stand on.
Seventy-five years ago,
this hill didn't exist.
CHRIS MCLARREN: Berlin was badly beat up
after World War II.
They needed to put the rubble somewhere,
and this was a good place to put it.
Hundreds of trucks came out every day,
and brought rubble out of the city.
NARRATOR: This is an artificial hill
made up of some 26 million cubic meters
of the capital's World War II rubble.
At 120 meters high,
it's the tallest hill in the city.
CHRIS MCLARREN:
As we look out from the hill,
all of this area is extremely flat.
So, this was the place
to put the listening post,
because you can hear in all directions.
NARRATOR: Our aerial view
can see the tattered white domes
that once contained dishes designed
to snoop on Soviet radio communications.
And the buildings below
were alive with intelligence officers
trying to crack the riddles
of their rivals across the city.
Of course, building a giant white tower
on the highest hill in town
is not something you can do
without being noticed.
CHRIS MCLARREN: Of course,
the Soviets knew we were here.
We were listening,
and the Soviets were listening,
and because of that, no surprise,
no panic, and no military overreaction.
So, in that sense,
it was a peacekeeping operation.
That wasn't its purpose,
but that was the effect.
NARRATOR: With the fall of the Berlin Wall
and the unification of Berlin,
the need for Teufelsberg disappeared.
It fell into ruin.
But the old building
has had something of a new lease of life.
The artists have taken over.
♪ ♪
Our flying cameras reveal
it's become a canvas for graffiti artists.
♪ ♪
It's the largest graffiti gallery
in Europe.
Germany in summer
is a sea of dark and light greens,
but close to the western border,
a startling brown patch becomes visible,
even from tens of kilometers up.
Looking closer...
reveals it's a scar in the Earth's surface
the size of a city.
This is Hambach open-pit coal mine.
♪ ♪
Colossal machines
chomp through the Earth's surface,
accessing over a billion tonnes
of coal deposits.
The coal is buried too shallow
for underground mining.
So, to get to it,
the Germans have dug a hole so big
the only way to explore it
is from high above.
It's the largest man-made hole in Europe.
It's Peter Rehmer's job to make
the biggest hole in Europe even bigger,
and to do that,
he uses a monstrous machine.
This is a Bagger excavator,
the biggest land vehicle on Earth.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
The excavator is 96 meters high,
220 meters long,
45 meters wide, and weighs 13,500 tonnes.
NARRATOR: Each Bagger excavator
is taller than the Statue of Liberty,
and the length of three Boeing 747s
parked side by side.
And Hambach mine
has eight of these metal monsters.
Today, Peter's clearing some of the clay
and soil that sits above the coal.
He looks like an ant
as he makes his way to the cabin
at the very front of this vast machine.
(Peter Rehmer speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
When I walk up
from the bottom to the driver's cabin,
it can take me up to five minutes.
You should be in good shape
when you do this work.
NARRATOR: With Peter in position,
it's time to dig.
♪ ♪
The largest land vehicle on the planet
bites into the Earth
using its enormous excavating wheel.
The wheel is 20 meters across,
with 18 gigantic buckets,
each the size of a VW Beetle.
It can shift
166 tons of material a minute.
(Peter Rehmer speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
The forces at work are immense.
It is pretty loud,
and the vibrations are relatively strong.
NARRATOR: A system of conveyor belts,
covering a staggering 115 kilometers,
carries the spoil away,
dumping it on the other side of the mine,
creating a Martian-like landscape.
But Germany's biggest hole
is also controversial.
The coal being excavated here
is so-called brown coal,
the most polluting there is.
And over the years, the mine has grown,
at the expense of a neighboring forest.
But the green lobby is fighting back.
The government has vowed
to be coal free by 2038,
and mining is due to cease here
in the mid-20s.
(Peter Rehmer speaking in German):
(man translating in English): This place
will undergo a complete makeover
and will probably turn into
the second-biggest inland lake in Germany.
NARRATOR: Engineers will redirect water
from the Rhine,
producing a recreational lake.
And foresters will replant
35 square kilometers with seeds
sourced from the original Hambach Forest.
By the end of his shift, Peter has moved
80,000 tons of material.
But this enormous excavator
is like a colossal dinosaur
on the brink of extinction,
a living memorial
to Germany's industrial history.
It's September.
Dropping temperatures turn green fields
to golden brown,
and crops ripen.
Autumn is here.
In Germany's far north,
the temperature plummets.
But the cold weather
is no obstacle for this man,
who has, perhaps, the country's
most spectacular daily commute.
A stone's throw
from Germany's border with Denmark
sits a collection of tiny islands,
cut off from the mainland by a large,
shallow sea:
the Hallig Islands.
♪ ♪
The ten islands
are set amongst endless mud flats,
home to countless flocks of water birds.
Fewer than 300 people live here,
and it's a life
that comes with challenges.
There are no bridges
between the Hallig Islands,
and much of the sea here
is too shallow for boats.
But our aerial view
reveals the inhabitants' ingenious
engineering solution.
A network of tiny train lines
that carry small personal trains.
Six days a week, Johann Petersen
loads up his train wagon on the mainland,
and takes to the rails.
Johann is a Hallig Island postman,
delivering mail
to some 90 local residents.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
It's probably not only
the most unusual postal route,
but also the prettiest.
On one hand, you're freezing.
Your beard is turning white,
your nose is running, everything's stupid,
and I'm still sitting there thinking
to myself, "This is really awesome."
(laughs)
NARRATOR: There are two train lines here.
One 3.6-kilometer line links the island
of Nordstrandischmoor with the mainland.
Another 9-kilometer line connects
the islands of Oland and Langeneß.
It's the northern line
Johann is taking today,
and he's reached his first stop, Oland.
(Johann Petersen speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
Oland is a Hallig,
meaning that it's just above high water,
and when there's the tiniest storm,
it becomes submerged.
NARRATOR: The housebuilders
of the Hallig Islands
construct their homes on raised mounds
to protect them in high seas.
So, Johann loads up his wheelbarrow
and walks up the mound
to deliver post
to the island's 16 residents.
This island has a special place
in Johann's heart.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English): I was born
on Oland, I grew up on Oland,
and God willing,
I'll be buried there, too.
NARRATOR: But the beauty here
is tinged with sadness.
The Hallig Islands are so low-lying that,
thanks to climate change,
they're under threat
from rising sea levels.
From above, it's possible to see
the kilometers of coastal defenses
locals have built
to try to solve the problem.
They're weaving brushwood
between wooden posts
to stop the land being washed away.
But Johann thinks it's already too late
for some of the more vulnerable
Hallig Islands.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
I'm enough of a realist to understand that
the Hallig Islands, as we know them now,
cannot be preserved, full stop.
It certainly is mind-boggling
to think that
my generation is probably the last one
that will see the place like this.
NARRATOR: Johann has reached Langeneß,
the end of the line.
It's a long and cold ride
back to the mainland,
but he wouldn't change his job
for anything.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English): I hope I'll
be doing this job for as long as possible.
How long that will be,
we'll leave up to the Lord.
I dare not make a guess.
♪ ♪
NARRATOR: Autumn is drawing to a close,
and the temperature
has dropped to single figures.
But there's one strange corner of Germany
that is forever summer.
Due south of Berlin,
60 kilometers from the Polish border
sits a disused airbase
set in a dense, frigid forest.
From above,
an enormous structure can be seen.
Our aerial view can swoop closer,
revealing it's a vast airship hangar.
Three hundred and sixty meters long,
210 meters wide, and 107 meters tall.
By volume,
it's the third largest building on Earth.
The hangar was built in the year 2000
to construct airships 260 meters long,
but the company that built it
went bankrupt.
Today, this colossal building
has found a bizarre new calling
as Europe's largest
tropical holiday resort: Tropical Islands.
Its interior is kept at a constant
temperature of 26 degrees Celsius.
Holidaymakers can spend the day
swimming in lagoons
or strolling through a rain forest.
They can even spend the night
in a small harbor town.
But this enormous old hangar
is showing its age.
Keeping it safe
for its new life as a holiday park
calls for a maintenance team
with a good head for heights.
Meet Dennis Hillebrands,
the high-wire handyman.
DENNIS HILLEBRANDS:
We have to replace or repair things
inside and outside of the dome, you know.
Every kind of job that we're doing
inside is a challenge.
NARRATOR: Today, Dennis and the team
need to replace an old safety mesh
high in the roof of this enormous dome.
They winch tools up from the hangar floor.
Then it's time
to take a trip over the edge.
The mesh they're replacing
is designed to catch anything
dropped from the walkway above.
(speaking in German):
Now you can take out the carabiner.
NARRATOR (in English):
With nothing but air beneath them,
they clip every tool
securely to their harnesses.
But if Dennis is scared,
he doesn't show it.
(Dennis whistling)
He even has time
to take in the view.
DENNIS HILLEBRANDS: Sometimes,
it's pretty much funny when you see
what's going on, on the bottom,
how they are going to drink, to swim,
or just hang around on the beach.
That is nice.
NARRATOR: With a few more turns
of the wrench,
the new mesh is firmly in place.
There's one last check for Dennis to make
before he heads back down to solid ground,
the vast roof.
♪ ♪
It's now that the huge scale
of the building can really be seen.
The diminutive figure of Dennis
makes his way across the top
of this colossal building.
And thanks to
precision German engineering,
the roof is in perfect condition.
With their never-ending push
for perfection, Germans have tamed nature,
built an economy
that's the envy of a continent,
and created a culture
that celebrates the country's past,
but not without enjoying the present.
The German people constantly test
the limits of what's possible,
and in so doing, have created
the great European nation we see today.
With a unique aerial view
of the richest,
most powerful nation in Europe,
we'll reveal how the German people
have built city-sized factories
and engineering masterpieces, old and new,
to forge a nation
that is the powerhouse of a continent.
In this series,
we'll take an aerial tour across Europe,
seeing its sights
from a brand-new perspective.
Filmed from above,
over the course of a single year,
as the landscape transforms
through the changing seasons,
we will uncover the culture, history,
and engineering
that built the great European nations
we see today.
Germany, the heart of Europe.
Bounded by the Alps in the south
and stretching up to the Baltic
and North Seas,
it's the continent's economic heavyweight.
But its wealth
isn't just measured in euro.
Germany is super-charged
with history and culture.
In the east is Berlin,
a city long in the crosshairs of history.
Hamburg is the gateway to the North Sea.
From above, we see an old port
finding new life with modern architecture.
The west
is a landscape of mammoth factories
and billowing cooling towers.
Whereas, a birds-eye view
of southern Germany
reveals a land
thick with forests and fairytale castles.
When the temperature drops,
tourists flock to the south.
Azure lakes
wear cloaks of brilliant light.
And rocky mountains become playgrounds.
It's winter in Germany.
It's on this southern border that Germans
have created a mountaintop mega structure.
Viewed from above,
the Alps are a fractured swathe of white,
slicing 1,200 kilometers across Europe.
Only a tiny fraction of the mountain chain
strays into Germany's southern border.
But this small patch of white
is home
to a record-breaking feat of engineering.
In 2017, Germany opened a cable car
that rides to the top
of Zugspitze Mountain,
the country's tallest peak.
Engineers battled fierce weather
and dizzying altitude
to conquer this natural wonder.
The track is 4.5 kilometers long,
and lifts passengers two kilometers
into the sky in a single leap.
The climb is so steep that at the top,
the cables appear nearly vertical.
It rests on the shoulders of Josef Ross
and his team of engineers
to keep everyone
taking the trip up the mountain safe.
And today,
they're taking a ride with a difference.
They're not traveling inside the car.
Instead, they sit on top of it.
Their incredible job
is to examine every millimeter
of the 4.5-kilometer long cables,
hunting for signs of wear and tear.
And our birds-eye view
can travel alongside them,
all the way to the top,
as they look for damage.
(Josef Ross speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
You see it right away,
and you have to repair the damages
or, in the worst cases, put up new cables.
NARRATOR: Each of the four cables
they're inspecting weighs 153 tons,
as much as 20 elephants.
Yet, astonishingly, this single tower,
the size of a 40-story skyscraper,
is all that holds those cables up
in the middle.
And the tower must also be inspected.
The crew stop the cable car.
Our aerial cameras follow,
as they take a daredevil stroll
One hundred and twenty-seven meters
above the ground.
They must check the condition
of the tower's 40 rubber rollers,
to ensure the car runs smoothly.
(Josef Ross speaking in German):
(man translating in English) If the rubber
wears out, a pulley might come off,
and then it's steel on steel.
This damages the cable,
and then you'd have a serious problem
that you wouldn't be able to repair.
NARRATOR: Thankfully,
the rollers are spinning smoothly.
The team can continue up the mountain.
The cables get steeper and steeper,
until they make their final approach
to the mountain station,
almost three kilometers high.
For most people,
the stomach-churning height
would be terrifying.
But for Josef,
it's the most thrilling part of the job.
(Josef Ross speaking in German):
(man translating in English)
When you're on the cabin at the top,
you get a completely unobstructed
panoramic view.
♪ ♪
It's really one of the best jobs
that you can have.
NARRATOR: It takes seven
nerve-shredding hours
for the team
to complete their inspections.
The cables are in near mint condition.
Good news for the 500,000 visitors
who come to ski or simply enjoy the view.
Here in the Alps,
Germany's legendary engineering skills
have conquered a mountain.
But further north, those same skills
are hard at work
in a factory almost the size of Gibraltar.
Germany's heart is a dense web of cities,
crisscrossed by road, rail, and waterways.
This is industrial Germany.
And at its center sits the crown jewel,
Volkswagen's enormous Wolfsburg plant.
At 6.5 million square meters,
it's the world's largest
manufacturing facility.
It's December,
and Christmas is fast approaching,
but this place isn't slowing down.
Two power stations churn out
450 megawatts of electricity.
And seven dedicated locomotives
shunt wagons
around the plant's own train terminal.
The plant employs more than 62,000 people,
who produce around 800,000 cars a year.
And this is how each car begins life,
a roll of steel weighing 30 tonnes.
Our exclusive birds-eye view will follow
as this roll of steel
is transformed into a white family 4x4.
Our car starts in a vast workshop
spanning around 78,000 square meters.
It's called the press shop.
And it's under the watchful eye
of Friedrich Mengedoht.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
The entire press shop is approximately
the same size as 11 football fields.
This is where
the car comes into existence.
NARRATOR: First,
giant rollers unwind the sheet steel,
and hydraulic tools
cut and press it into parts.
The robots make it look easy,
churning out 420,000 body parts a day,
as their human supervisors watch on.
(Dr. Friedrich Mengedoht
speaking in German):
(man translating in English): You've got
enormous forces that are at work there.
The floor does shake.
NARRATOR: But despite the speed,
the press shop
works with astonishing precision.
Each part is accurate
to a 10th of a millimetre.
A conveyor system whisks the parts
from the press shop
to yet another enormous work space,
the body shop.
Here, robotic arms
wield fiercely hot welding torches
to assemble the sections together,
before each newly-formed shell
is given a lick of paint.
So far, barely a human hand
has touched a single car part.
But there's one area
where each vehicle needs a human touch.
The final stage of production,
the assembly line.
Jeannette Thiemann oversees
the finishing touches to our white 4x4
in the assembly room
at VW's Wolfsburg plant.
(Jeannette Thiemann speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
I think that we have a different kind
of discipline here in Germany,
I want to say stubborn,
with regard to quality.
NARRATOR: Our aerial view
reveals the highly-skilled workers
aren't competing with robots,
they're in harmony with them.
(Jeannette Thiemann speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
The machines here do work very precisely,
but they're not as flexible as a human.
NARRATOR: Together,
robots and humans fix chassis to bodies,
and bolt engines and batteries
into the car.
A moving conveyor ensures
that as soon as one job is finished,
the car is already in place
for the next component.
(speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
Every 60 seconds,
a finished car leaves the belt.
NARRATOR: It's taken a little over a day
to transform a humble roll of steel
into our brand-new family car,
but its journey is not quite over.
A conveyor belt transports it
to the plant's crowning glory,
a sci-fi-inspired parking tower.
Robotic assistants
hoist the car 50 meters into the air,
and carefully slot it into a parking bay,
ready for collection by its new owner.
It's not just cars Germans build.
Across the country,
city-sized factories churn out
everything from petrochemicals
to steel.
And at ports like Hamburg, these goods
are transported out around the globe,
making Germany Europe's biggest exporter.
As the months tick by,
winter's grip loosens.
The snow in the mountains retreats
and frozen lakes thaw.
Spring comes to Germany.
The melting snow
reveals Germany's lush landscape.
The dark green patches
visible in satellite images are forests.
Roughly a third of the country
is covered in dense woodland.
And in Germany's far southwest
is the most iconic forest of them all,
an enormous patch of dark green
containing some two billion trees,
the Black Forest.
Our aerial view reveals the story
behind this forest's name.
The trees are packed together so tightly,
that in places,
sunlight can't get through.
The forest floor seems almost black.
Just as iconic as the trees
are the traditional huts,
constructed from wooden tiles.
The tiles are called shingles.
They're perfect
for keeping the huts watertight,
but making them properly
is a skilled engineering feat.
Ernst Karle is a master shingle maker.
Spring marks the time
when Ernst and his son Lukas
search for the perfect wood
to ply their trade.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
It starts when you choose a tree.
I pick an area where the trees
are not too exposed to the wind.
You don't want to see any branches
for the first ten meters.
NARRATOR: The tree they're looking for
will be used to restore
the walls of this 100-year-old hut.
And the finest shingles
mustn't be warped or contain knots.
So Ernst is very picky.
He eventually finds what he's looking for.
ERNST KARLE: Lukas!
NARRATOR: From above,
we can see Ernst chose his tree well.
Tall and straight,
it'll be perfect for shingle making.
Lukas carefully fells the tree.
They then transport it back
to the family home,
where the shingle making can begin.
(Ernst Karle speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
This type of job just fills you with joy.
I'm never in a bad mood
when I'm making shingles.
NARRATOR: Lukas
uses a traditional log-splitting tool
called a froe
to slice the tree into pieces.
Whilst Ernst sits on a machine
called a shaving horse,
slicing each tile to size.
Even Ernst's four-year-old grandson,
Lenny, gets involved.
He's like me when I was young.
He's walking around
and he wants to be with us.
NARRATOR:
With three generations working together,
the Karle family
can make 600 shingles a day.
They then drive into the forest,
where they can begin to nail
row after row of the tiles to the hut.
(Ernst Karle speaking in English):
(man translating in English): What more
could you ask for in your workplace?
It's quiet, you make the hut, you bring
a sandwich, and sit in the sun for lunch.
What's important
is that it's properly done,
and the quality is there.
NARRATOR: It'll take another 11,000 tiles
to finish this hut.
But once the work is done,
the hut will be able to withstand
all the rain, snow, and wind
the Black Forest throws at it.
Springtime in the Black Forest
is like something out of a fairytale.
It was scenes like this
that inspired two local brothers,
in the early 1800s, to write stories
such as Hansel and Gretel,
Snow White, and Cinderella.
They were the Brothers Grimm,
and the next stop on this aerial journey
could easily be the setting
for one of their folk tales.
This is Hohenzollern Castle
in the state of Baden-Württemberg.
Our bird's-eye view can soar over
this 140-room storybook fortress,
built by the Hohenzollern family,
Prussian royalty.
They chose this impossibly lofty perch
to show off their power
to all who passed by.
Today, the building
and its sumptuous interiors
draw 350,000 visitors a year.
And with warmer weather around the corner,
it's up to castle custodian, Anja Hoppe,
to make sure the building
is in tip-top condition.
(speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
It is a big responsibility,
but on the other hand,
of course, it's also a big honor.
It makes me so happy
to be able to work here.
It's simply my mission.
NARRATOR: Today, Anja's arranged
for a specialist group of climbers
to visit the castle.
They abseil down the sandstone facades,
but they're not here to repair the walls,
they're here to brutally attack them
with hammers.
This isn't vandalism.
They're keeping
Hohenzollern's visitors safe.
(Anja Hoppe speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
The façade climbers come twice a year.
They remove elements
that have become loose over time,
to prevent anything from falling
on our visitors or on the streets.
They're like heroes
balancing themselves on the walls.
And on top of that,
they're very handsome men!
NARRATOR: The climbers methodically
work their way down the walls,
chipping out anything that could
pose a threat to visitors below.
But surprisingly,
there's not much material to remove.
The walls are in excellent condition.
This castle may look medieval,
but it's an impostor.
It wasn't even built
when the Brothers Grimm began
penning their tales
of princesses and evil queens.
(Anja Hoppe speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
It's actually a young castle,
only 150 years old.
NARRATOR: Why build
such an impressive defensive structure
in an era when
medieval knights were long gone?
In the 1800s, Germany was obsessed
with tales of shining armor
and fair maidens living in tall towers.
So, what better way to join the trend
than to build your own Camelot?
(Anja Hoppe speaking in German):
(woman translating in English):
It had to look medieval, of course,
but it's in no way a medieval castle,
no knights ever lived here.
NARRATOR: The climbers finish their work.
The masonry they've so violently removed
will be carefully restored,
leaving the building as good as new.
A pre-Disney Disneyland castle.
(speaking in German):
(woman translating in English): It does
feel a bit like a Hollywood kind of scene,
and I'm thinking to myself,
"My God, it can't possibly be
this beautiful in real life."
NARRATOR: Hohenzollern
isn't the only German castle
that hides its youth.
From above, we can see Germany is littered
with modern fairytale fortresses.
Hohenschwangau in Bavaria
is only 180 years old.
And Neuschwanstein, the inspiration
for Disney's Sleeping Beauty Castle,
was still a construction site
140 years ago.
They may not be
authentic medieval strongholds,
but they're magical sites for tourists,
especially when the warm rays of summer
begin to shine.
♪ ♪
It's June.
In the German capital, Berlin,
the sun beats down
on some of the country's
most varied architecture.
From the neo-renaissance Berlin Cathedral,
modernist housing estates,
to the Fernsehturm,
an iconic Soviet TV tower.
But perhaps the most important site here
isn't a building,
it's the crumbling remnants
of the Berlin Wall.
This was once a city divided.
At the end of World War II,
Berlin was split between the victors.
France, Britain, and the US took the west,
and the Soviets the east.
Tensions grew, and in 1961,
the Berlin Wall was built
straight through the city's heart.
But there's an unsung hero in this story.
Ten kilometers west of the wall,
a cluster of buildings dotted
with strange white circles is visible.
Looking closer, our flying cameras reveal
an enormous tower
that's fallen into decay,
topped and flanked by gigantic spheres.
Teufelsberg,
an American Cold War listening station.
This remarkable building may have
saved humanity from self-destruction.
Teufelsberg
was an American spy station
designed to eavesdrop
on Soviet communications.
Chris McLarren was one of
the intelligence officers who worked here.
CHRIS MCLARREN: Berlin was such
a remarkable city during the Cold War,
because we were armed to the teeth
and the Soviets were armed to the teeth.
And it probably would only have taken some
misunderstandings for war to break out.
NARRATOR: The strange story
of Teufelsberg listening station
begins not with the buildings
but the hill they stand on.
Seventy-five years ago,
this hill didn't exist.
CHRIS MCLARREN: Berlin was badly beat up
after World War II.
They needed to put the rubble somewhere,
and this was a good place to put it.
Hundreds of trucks came out every day,
and brought rubble out of the city.
NARRATOR: This is an artificial hill
made up of some 26 million cubic meters
of the capital's World War II rubble.
At 120 meters high,
it's the tallest hill in the city.
CHRIS MCLARREN:
As we look out from the hill,
all of this area is extremely flat.
So, this was the place
to put the listening post,
because you can hear in all directions.
NARRATOR: Our aerial view
can see the tattered white domes
that once contained dishes designed
to snoop on Soviet radio communications.
And the buildings below
were alive with intelligence officers
trying to crack the riddles
of their rivals across the city.
Of course, building a giant white tower
on the highest hill in town
is not something you can do
without being noticed.
CHRIS MCLARREN: Of course,
the Soviets knew we were here.
We were listening,
and the Soviets were listening,
and because of that, no surprise,
no panic, and no military overreaction.
So, in that sense,
it was a peacekeeping operation.
That wasn't its purpose,
but that was the effect.
NARRATOR: With the fall of the Berlin Wall
and the unification of Berlin,
the need for Teufelsberg disappeared.
It fell into ruin.
But the old building
has had something of a new lease of life.
The artists have taken over.
♪ ♪
Our flying cameras reveal
it's become a canvas for graffiti artists.
♪ ♪
It's the largest graffiti gallery
in Europe.
Germany in summer
is a sea of dark and light greens,
but close to the western border,
a startling brown patch becomes visible,
even from tens of kilometers up.
Looking closer...
reveals it's a scar in the Earth's surface
the size of a city.
This is Hambach open-pit coal mine.
♪ ♪
Colossal machines
chomp through the Earth's surface,
accessing over a billion tonnes
of coal deposits.
The coal is buried too shallow
for underground mining.
So, to get to it,
the Germans have dug a hole so big
the only way to explore it
is from high above.
It's the largest man-made hole in Europe.
It's Peter Rehmer's job to make
the biggest hole in Europe even bigger,
and to do that,
he uses a monstrous machine.
This is a Bagger excavator,
the biggest land vehicle on Earth.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
The excavator is 96 meters high,
220 meters long,
45 meters wide, and weighs 13,500 tonnes.
NARRATOR: Each Bagger excavator
is taller than the Statue of Liberty,
and the length of three Boeing 747s
parked side by side.
And Hambach mine
has eight of these metal monsters.
Today, Peter's clearing some of the clay
and soil that sits above the coal.
He looks like an ant
as he makes his way to the cabin
at the very front of this vast machine.
(Peter Rehmer speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
When I walk up
from the bottom to the driver's cabin,
it can take me up to five minutes.
You should be in good shape
when you do this work.
NARRATOR: With Peter in position,
it's time to dig.
♪ ♪
The largest land vehicle on the planet
bites into the Earth
using its enormous excavating wheel.
The wheel is 20 meters across,
with 18 gigantic buckets,
each the size of a VW Beetle.
It can shift
166 tons of material a minute.
(Peter Rehmer speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
The forces at work are immense.
It is pretty loud,
and the vibrations are relatively strong.
NARRATOR: A system of conveyor belts,
covering a staggering 115 kilometers,
carries the spoil away,
dumping it on the other side of the mine,
creating a Martian-like landscape.
But Germany's biggest hole
is also controversial.
The coal being excavated here
is so-called brown coal,
the most polluting there is.
And over the years, the mine has grown,
at the expense of a neighboring forest.
But the green lobby is fighting back.
The government has vowed
to be coal free by 2038,
and mining is due to cease here
in the mid-20s.
(Peter Rehmer speaking in German):
(man translating in English): This place
will undergo a complete makeover
and will probably turn into
the second-biggest inland lake in Germany.
NARRATOR: Engineers will redirect water
from the Rhine,
producing a recreational lake.
And foresters will replant
35 square kilometers with seeds
sourced from the original Hambach Forest.
By the end of his shift, Peter has moved
80,000 tons of material.
But this enormous excavator
is like a colossal dinosaur
on the brink of extinction,
a living memorial
to Germany's industrial history.
It's September.
Dropping temperatures turn green fields
to golden brown,
and crops ripen.
Autumn is here.
In Germany's far north,
the temperature plummets.
But the cold weather
is no obstacle for this man,
who has, perhaps, the country's
most spectacular daily commute.
A stone's throw
from Germany's border with Denmark
sits a collection of tiny islands,
cut off from the mainland by a large,
shallow sea:
the Hallig Islands.
♪ ♪
The ten islands
are set amongst endless mud flats,
home to countless flocks of water birds.
Fewer than 300 people live here,
and it's a life
that comes with challenges.
There are no bridges
between the Hallig Islands,
and much of the sea here
is too shallow for boats.
But our aerial view
reveals the inhabitants' ingenious
engineering solution.
A network of tiny train lines
that carry small personal trains.
Six days a week, Johann Petersen
loads up his train wagon on the mainland,
and takes to the rails.
Johann is a Hallig Island postman,
delivering mail
to some 90 local residents.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
It's probably not only
the most unusual postal route,
but also the prettiest.
On one hand, you're freezing.
Your beard is turning white,
your nose is running, everything's stupid,
and I'm still sitting there thinking
to myself, "This is really awesome."
(laughs)
NARRATOR: There are two train lines here.
One 3.6-kilometer line links the island
of Nordstrandischmoor with the mainland.
Another 9-kilometer line connects
the islands of Oland and Langeneß.
It's the northern line
Johann is taking today,
and he's reached his first stop, Oland.
(Johann Petersen speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
Oland is a Hallig,
meaning that it's just above high water,
and when there's the tiniest storm,
it becomes submerged.
NARRATOR: The housebuilders
of the Hallig Islands
construct their homes on raised mounds
to protect them in high seas.
So, Johann loads up his wheelbarrow
and walks up the mound
to deliver post
to the island's 16 residents.
This island has a special place
in Johann's heart.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English): I was born
on Oland, I grew up on Oland,
and God willing,
I'll be buried there, too.
NARRATOR: But the beauty here
is tinged with sadness.
The Hallig Islands are so low-lying that,
thanks to climate change,
they're under threat
from rising sea levels.
From above, it's possible to see
the kilometers of coastal defenses
locals have built
to try to solve the problem.
They're weaving brushwood
between wooden posts
to stop the land being washed away.
But Johann thinks it's already too late
for some of the more vulnerable
Hallig Islands.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English):
I'm enough of a realist to understand that
the Hallig Islands, as we know them now,
cannot be preserved, full stop.
It certainly is mind-boggling
to think that
my generation is probably the last one
that will see the place like this.
NARRATOR: Johann has reached Langeneß,
the end of the line.
It's a long and cold ride
back to the mainland,
but he wouldn't change his job
for anything.
(speaking in German):
(man translating in English): I hope I'll
be doing this job for as long as possible.
How long that will be,
we'll leave up to the Lord.
I dare not make a guess.
♪ ♪
NARRATOR: Autumn is drawing to a close,
and the temperature
has dropped to single figures.
But there's one strange corner of Germany
that is forever summer.
Due south of Berlin,
60 kilometers from the Polish border
sits a disused airbase
set in a dense, frigid forest.
From above,
an enormous structure can be seen.
Our aerial view can swoop closer,
revealing it's a vast airship hangar.
Three hundred and sixty meters long,
210 meters wide, and 107 meters tall.
By volume,
it's the third largest building on Earth.
The hangar was built in the year 2000
to construct airships 260 meters long,
but the company that built it
went bankrupt.
Today, this colossal building
has found a bizarre new calling
as Europe's largest
tropical holiday resort: Tropical Islands.
Its interior is kept at a constant
temperature of 26 degrees Celsius.
Holidaymakers can spend the day
swimming in lagoons
or strolling through a rain forest.
They can even spend the night
in a small harbor town.
But this enormous old hangar
is showing its age.
Keeping it safe
for its new life as a holiday park
calls for a maintenance team
with a good head for heights.
Meet Dennis Hillebrands,
the high-wire handyman.
DENNIS HILLEBRANDS:
We have to replace or repair things
inside and outside of the dome, you know.
Every kind of job that we're doing
inside is a challenge.
NARRATOR: Today, Dennis and the team
need to replace an old safety mesh
high in the roof of this enormous dome.
They winch tools up from the hangar floor.
Then it's time
to take a trip over the edge.
The mesh they're replacing
is designed to catch anything
dropped from the walkway above.
(speaking in German):
Now you can take out the carabiner.
NARRATOR (in English):
With nothing but air beneath them,
they clip every tool
securely to their harnesses.
But if Dennis is scared,
he doesn't show it.
(Dennis whistling)
He even has time
to take in the view.
DENNIS HILLEBRANDS: Sometimes,
it's pretty much funny when you see
what's going on, on the bottom,
how they are going to drink, to swim,
or just hang around on the beach.
That is nice.
NARRATOR: With a few more turns
of the wrench,
the new mesh is firmly in place.
There's one last check for Dennis to make
before he heads back down to solid ground,
the vast roof.
♪ ♪
It's now that the huge scale
of the building can really be seen.
The diminutive figure of Dennis
makes his way across the top
of this colossal building.
And thanks to
precision German engineering,
the roof is in perfect condition.
With their never-ending push
for perfection, Germans have tamed nature,
built an economy
that's the envy of a continent,
and created a culture
that celebrates the country's past,
but not without enjoying the present.
The German people constantly test
the limits of what's possible,
and in so doing, have created
the great European nation we see today.