In which a culture vulture meets a vulture

Vulture – non-culture variety.

Amsterdam has a reputation – quite a reputation, come to that. With its red light district and its grey cafés, it is, in the minds of some, the very model of a modern Sodom and Gomorrah; to others, a pleasure palace.

It has been said that those two aspects of the city are impossible to escape from, even in a limited visit: but that is either a rather wild exaggeration or a somewhat Freudian interpretation, depending on your own analysis.

Now, in the interests of clarity: I have never spent time in one of the grey cafés, but I have smoked the odd joint and have no problem with that aspect of Amsterdam. Equally, I’ve spent time – on my own – in the red light district too, and the only thing that nearly freaked me out was the sight of two of Mother Teresa’s nuns heading in my direction.

So this is not some sort of puritanical, crusading piece against that part of the city’s existence. In the posts about this part of my spring break, there will simply be an attempt to rectify that myth and broaden horizons.

If it is simplistic to describe Lübeck as “terrifyingly cultured”, then it’s equally simplistic to portray Amsterdam in a way that forgets hugely significant aspects of its culture.

In keeping with the first leg of this trip, there was to be no shortage of delights for a culture vulture abroad. I had pre-booked tickets for the Rijksmuseum, which was due to reopen after a 10-year restoration/refurbishment just a few days before my arrival, and also for an evening at the Concertgebouw, the city's magnificent concert hall. And more of those in following posts.

But Wednesday dawned bright and mild, and we decided to head to Artis, the city’s zoo.

Short for Natura Artis Magistra (itself, Latin for ‘Nature is the teacher of art’), Artis was founded in 1838.

Kookaburra

The main entrance bears the name above it, but ‘Artis’ was the word above the central gate. It was the one that was most often open, and thus people looked up and saw this one word – and the zoo became known by that word.

In addition to the zoo itself, the site also houses a planetarium, zoological and geological museums and an aquarium, plus a substantial library – all of which declares it’s educative qualifications.

We’d never visited before and the size of it proved a surprise – for some reason – presumably the general size of a grachtenhuis in the Centrum – I’d expected it to be small and not much more than a children’s petting zoo.

It’s light years from that.

We started at one of the old buildings, just near the planetarium, where there were birds outside and inside, some monkeys.

Having wandered along the outer enclosures, we headed in. I hadn’t spotted the signs saying that there were loose animals beyond the doors, so it was an even bigger surprise to walk into a tropical forest and find a large, blue bird wandering around.

The surprises were only about to begin, though, as a monkey swung past nearby and we spotted three little, apparently rodent-like creatures chasing past thought the plants.

Guinea fowl. 'Are you lookin' at me?'

I have never seen such small monkeys – and being able to see them so near, without glass or Perspex or wire between you is utterly astonishing. Judging by the smile on the face of one of the keepers, having clocked my own grin, such a response is frequent.

As we moved through the different parts of this house, we came across a group of guinea fowl toddling around. One, though, was determined that anyone who came near must, by dint of bird-brained logic, be in possession of food.

'Is that camera food? I bet that camera's food really,' it seemed to be demanding as it headed straight for me.

It was four years ago, in Berlin, that I really ‘discovered’ zoos as an adult – not least for the purposes of photography.

Chimp and baby.

There, the specific revelations had included vultures, which I had never imagined I would find remotely interesting, but, having made eye contact with a king vulture, I now find them awesome, and was delighted that Amsterdam had a number of European Griffon vultures.

In fact, on that trip, I’d found myself far more interested in several of the birds than I had expected – and here things started well with a delightful pair of kookaburras.

The meerkats, as always, delighted, with chances to observe (and snap) their lookout behaviour.

Half a dozen small turtles proved excellent models for a couple of pictures, as did a camel that looked at me with the sort of expression that could have come straight from one of the grey cafés.

But on this trip, special pleasures awaited in the form of baby animals.

First, there were a pair of baby maras curled up together outside a little burrow, with a trio of older ones watching on carefully. They had been born only the weekend previously, but are so developed that they can sometimes graze within a day of birth.

Then, in the gorilla enclosure, a magnificent silverback was leading his troupe in a charge around as they waited to go inside for dinner: we spotted at least three babies on their mothers’ backs.

But perhaps the most glorious of these treats came watching a chimpanzee sitting on a large trunk, poking a stick into a hole in search of insects, and all the time holding her sleeping baby in her other arm. He or she had such an old little face.

The question from a photographic perspective became not simply getting the shot, but trying to avoid the flare on the windows of the enclosure. Some shots were better than others – and Photoshop can then help further.

It’s one thing to see such sights on the television: it’s entirely another to see them in the flesh.

Zoos are still a contentious idea for some people, but good ones – like this and Berlin – have enormously important roles to play in terms of conservation and education.

Turtles

In terms of the latter: yes, you can see so much on television – and in the UK, we’ve been blessed to have David Attenborough and the BBC wildlife unit at Bristol educating us for many years.

But I offer my own changed view on vultures as an example of the difference that seeing in the flesh can make.

And indeed, a couple of years after that, we spotted and were able to identify a Lammergeier over Foix in the French Pyrenees.

And here, we watched as two vultures tore apart a dead rabbit, with a much larger carcass close by.

For all the cuteness, nature is truly red in tooth and claw.

There were, of course, plenty of herons around – you can't avoid them in Amsterdam, and they're wonderful to see. And flowers in full colour offered a pleasure that perhaps might be less so in other when, by this time of year, we'd have seen plenty.

Sculpture of a young chimp.

But one other thing I really liked about Artis were the sculptures that can be seen throughout the grounds.

There are some that clearly date back many years, but others that are far more modern.

That evening, we headed for Kop van Jut, one of a trio of eateries in the touristy food streets around the Leidseplein, that actually serve Dutch food.

Oh, you can find Argentinian and Uruguayan steaks aplenty, and there is no shortage of those thin frites and burgers and dogs, plus a few Indonesian restaurants – the culinary legacy of the Netherlands’ imperial history – but little in that area that provides Dutch cooking.

Most people would probably struggle to think of a Dutch dish, but in keeping with the sort of culinary links that I mentioned in terms of lobskaus, there are plenty here too.

For instance, Erwtensoep is simply a version of pea and ham soup – the Germans have one too (erbsensuppe), while the Scandinavians have artsoppa, a pea soup.

Stamppot is a dish made with mashed potato, which is added to vegetables and sometimes also bacon: colcannon or bubble and squeak, anyone?

Anyway, we’d dined at Jut van Kop some years ago and thought it well worth a return.

I ordered cod with spinach, beans and a sort of pesto dressing: fairly typical Northern European ingredients, with a rather more southern twist thrown in, and all done rather well.

And it came with a large serving of handcut chips – with homemade mayo on the side.

That’s a filthy little habit that I picked up in Amsterdam years ago and is now my go-to condiment for chips.

The Other Half had two small (but not that small) soles.

And, for dessert, ice cream.

The menu was far shorter than we remembered, but that's no bad thing. The staff were almost taking youthfulness to the point of frightening. And it had never really struck me as the sort of establishment that would ask you to 'like' on Facebook (although I have done that). It's a changing world.

It had been a very enjoyable day – and I offer it up as early evidence in my case that Amsterdam is not simply Sodom and Gomorrah: unless you want it to be, of course.

* A full set of Artis photographs can be viewed here.

* The Berlin Zoo photographs can be viewed here.

Animal crackers

Vague thoughts had crossed my mind before heading off to Berlin that we might potter along to the city’s zoo (the one in the west, that is) at some point – not least so that one could say that one had said ‘hello’ to Knut, the world famous polar bear who is now two years old.

It was Tuesday and the weather forecast was not brilliant. We’d made the most of the morning with a boat trip on the Spree, before ducking into a café-bar, Berliner Republik, to escape the inevitable shower.

Musing over the rest of the afternoon ahead, The Other Half suggested the Zoologischer Garten. On first consideration, time in the open on a day of inclement weather didn’t appeal massively. But then the reasoning occurred that such weather might reduce the number of coach parties wandering around the place. So off we set from Friedrichstraße Bahnhof.

With the largest number of species in the world, it also offered a chance to photograph some exotic animals – something I’d never tried before.

Well, it was certainly quiet. We saw some elephants waiting to get into their ‘house’. And then a lovely sight of two young giraffes and two adults.

The big cats all seemed to be inside too: as we ambled into their quarters, a male lion was roaring, sending goosebumps up and down the spine. The cats themselves are magnificent – and a particularly insouciant leopard posed very nicely for a shot.

The carnivore house also houses the meerkats and the dwarf mongooses, which seem to be a competition in who could out-cute who. The meerkats do all the things you’ve seen on documentaries – including having one standing guard even though there’s no predatory threat.

And the mongooses spend a lot energy trying to all curl around a single branch together to sleep.

That produced technical issues – getting close enough to the glass to avoid it messing up pictures. But the results were very pleasing.

Our fellow apes were suitably ape-like and didn’t engage me anywhere near as much as I’d expected, some of the monkeys were far more fun – one little one dropped a rope while we were watching. Deeply distressed by this, it was comforted by a fellow monkey. It's difficult not to anthropomorphisise at such moments

And then there was a panda. Who was asleep. As pandas are most likely to be.

We grabbed a lunch from the café, where the food had been sitting beneath lamps for some time, given the lack of crowds, then hit the trail again, catching the pacing brown bear and finally, Knut. Who was lying down and doing not a lot, until he hauled himself up and ambled into his own indoor quarters.

It was the right idea. A few moments later, it started to rain. I managed to get under cover long enough to get my camera into it’s nice, waterproof bag, but got absolutely drenched as we headed back, as quickly as possible to the Elephant Gate.

It didn’t take much to decide to visit again. And we spent the best part of the Saturday there, in better weather and with bigger crowds.

The photography was challenging, fun and very rewarding.

But what made these visits so enjoyable was seeing the animals up close, in some cases, interacting.

Cats, for instance: it doesn’t matter how big they are, I now realise that they all eat grass, all patrol and all like to sleep on shelves. Which brought to mind the sight of The Queen Bee dozing on a bookshelf. Although I won’t be telling her that she’s got a lot in common with lions and leopards – she’s got more than enough grand ideas as it is.

Amazingly, on the Saturday, Bau Bau the panda was awake, while taking an extra lens with me enable me to get some corking shots of some of the birds, including while being eyeballed by a bloody big king vulture, which seemed to be echoing Robert de Niro and asking: "You looking at me?".

Berlin is doing valuable work in terms of conservation, but what seeing so many animals in the flesh, as opposed to via the TV screen, does is to usefully remind you of just how beautiful – and awesome – the rest of the this planets inhabitants are, and how much they need protecting.

I last saw a zoo – a tiny, private one – in KwaZulu Natal about 11 years ago (run by a certain famous circus family) and it was dreadful – very, very upsetting, with cages that were far, far too small for big cats and neurotic apes that were alone and with sod all to distract them.

Berlin is what zoos can be. And I won’t be waiting as long to pay a call to a zoo again.